People Share The Most Dreadful Experience They’ve Ever Had With A Neighbor

When you move into a new home, it’s pretty much going to be a hit or miss with your neighbors. You’re either going to love them or hate them; there’s really no in-between.

You have the neighbor that’s a hoarder, the one who can’t seem to keep quiet, the one who always hosts parties, the one who hates life for no apparent reason and wants to take it out on everyone, the one who can’t seem to keep their dogs on leashes, the one who totally snubs you every time you greet them while on a walk, do I need to continue? We’ve all witnessed them.

I’d like to think that some people are better off living out in the country with no other homes within their proximity, like the people in the following stories.

15. I Thought She Was Going To Kill Me

“Ah yes, the chubby little psycho down the hall.

It was a new building, so we all moved in at the same time. One day, I saw her struggling to fold a duvet in the hallway (don’t know why she was doing it there, but hey), I went over to help and she suggested we should have dinner together like, once a week, since we both lived alone.

She had something wrong with her stomach, so I was to skip on the spices. I did, and the food was, indeed, bland. She complained about it the entire meal, complained about the pan I cooked it in, so on and so forth. At the end of the night, she went to get her Tupperware because she wanted the leftovers.

That night, I became very sick. Throwing up, hallucinating, unbearable pain, fever, the lot. My best friend lived literally across the street, so I texted her to come as soon as she saw this and unlocked my door.

My BFF showed up in the morning and started asking me questions about what I had eaten, etc. Normal stuff. I mentioned the dinner with my neighbor, so my friend messaged the neighbor to see if she happened to be sick too and rule out any of the food having been bad. The neighbor freaked out, saying my friend was accusing her of poisoning me; she completely lost her sh*t. I read the messages, my friend said no such thing, didn’t even imply it.

Looking back, I wonder if it really was just her anxiety, triggered by getting a questioning message from a stranger, or whether she really did slip me something. At this point, I would not be surprised if she had.

Then there were her constant sexually charged comments, but she would freak out if you said anything like that to her. There were the late-night calls to take her to McDonald’s because she had anxiety and hadn’t been able to go out and get food all day.

There was her goldfish, who she starved to death, because she was too anxious to go out and buy food. She then got 2 puppies, who she gave away within months, only to buy a cat the next day. One of our neighbors took the puppies and they would walk them together. She kept going on about how much they looked like a couple, locking arms with him and such, even in front of his actual GF.

One of my male friends used to date her. He is from a very conservative family, and when he eventually broke up with her, because he couldn’t handle the crazy, she wrote to his father, an actual handwritten letter, detailing all the sexual acts they had done together. The father went berserk and kicked his son out of the house over it. The friend claims he never slept with her to begin with.

Another friend/neighbor looked after the cat, while little psycho went on holiday, as the friend was missing her own cat, who had just died.

Psycho stayed away a full 2 months longer than agreed upon, just showed back up one day, without explanation. When my friend asked where she had been, she threw a tantrum again, saying how horrible the friend was and that she was glad her cat had died, and actually, her whole family should die. All this friend asked was why she disappeared for 2 whole months.

After a whole host of incidents that started to border on stalking, I decided to move.

Come moving day, I was alone in my house and left the door open, it was in the middle of a heatwave, in a building without air conditioning, I came back from dragging some boxes toward the elevator to be picked up by the friends who were helping me move, and who would be back soon. I found her in my house. Angry that I was leaving, but completely irate, because I was wearing a certain top in my own home.

In her country, that would be unacceptable. Said the s*x -obsessed princess, who, as a single woman, has had an abortion. Not that I mind, nothing wrong with that, but that is more than frowned upon ‘where she comes from’ (her words, not mine), that’s illegal.

Never have I been happier to see my friends walk in. Good grief, I thought she was going to kill me.” TheOldPetrillo

14. He Wouldn’t Let Us Take Him To The Hospital

“Four years ago I went round to my father’s flat, I hadn’t seen him in a couple of months by this point.

I had been banging on the door for about fifteen minutes before I thought, d*mn, what the heck is taking him so long?

Eventually, he answered the door, his legs looked like they belonged on a sparrow, and his stomach a gorilla, he let me in and turned towards the living room, stopped, and shouted ‘Oh, sh*t’, he meant this literally as some black tar-looking liquid dribbled down his leg. At this point, I should mention that my Dad had been suffering from alcohol addiction for as long as I can remember.

I followed him into the living room and immediately noticed that it smelled like someone had died in there a month prior, my Dad lay on the couch and I asked him if he was ok – I already knew the answer.
At this point, the thought of calling an ambulance crossed my mind, but I thought better of it – the reason he lay on the sofa-bed in the living room was that he’d been sub-letting the two bedrooms in his two-bed flat out to a drug dealer to grow the green plan.

I asked my dad to let me take him to the hospital, but he refused.

He refused to go to the hospital, so I knocked on his neighbor’s door, at this point I started crying, and asked his neighbor (and friend) to help me convince him go to the hospital, he came round and did his best, he said ‘[Dad’s name] you’ve got a [xx] year old man crying here because he cares about you, so can we take you to hospital and get this sorted out?’ My dad was a proud man and told him nothing was wrong.

I spent the next three hours trying to convince him to go to the hospital, bluffing that I’d phone an ambulance if he continued to refuse, all he said to me was ‘Just give me one last night’, as he grabbed his bottle of Prince Consort and took a swig.

I phoned my employer and explained that I wouldn’t be in work the next morning because my Dad wasn’t well, my boss told me that if I was as worried as I had told him I was, I should phone an ambulance, but again I had convinced myself that this wasn’t an option.

I stayed the night and the next day I called a taxi to take my dad to the nearest hospital, he passed out in the car and farted the worst toxic gas I had ever smelled, the taxi driver helped me get him into a wheelchair when we arrived at A&E and I wheeled him inside – the worst feeling in my life was when the entirety of the waiting room turned around wide-eyed like I was looking directly into their minds as they thought ‘WHAT THE EFF ARE YOU DOING BRINGING THAT GUY TO A&E, PHONE AN AMBULANCE ONCE IN A WHILE FFS’.

Needless to say, he was rushed to the front of the queue, I explained to the A&E nurse what had happened and she ensured that he was taken to a ward and given a saline drip immediately.

While he was in the ward the doctor and three nurses took me into a room and asked me whether I wanted them to continue running the life-support machine if he lost consciousness, at this point the reality that he might die hit me like a mega tonne of nuclear explosives and I immediately turned around, covered my face and started sobbing like a child.

The nurse told the doctor that it wasn’t fair to put that decision on me and asked if there was anyone else they could pass the decision to, my mum, nan and two of my brothers were on a holiday that my dad paid for with his drug money at that point, so I phoned his sister, she arrived a short time later.

Later that night my Dad was in ICU (Intensive Care Unit), he was conscious, compos mentis and his usual, wonderful self.

He asked me to get him a TV magazine and told me to go home, so I did.
The next day I went to the hospital and I had forgotten to get him a TV mag, he never asked for much, but would always remember and do anything I asked for, so this really stuck with me. I told him that I wanted to stay with him at the hospital, but he told me he’d be fine and to get back to work, so I left.

Things were really tight at work with regards to deadlines and my boss had already been asking when I’d be back, he told me that if anything happened they’d pay for a taxi to the hospital for me, so the next day I went back to work.

It was about midday and I was sat at my computer when I got a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize, it was a doctor from the hospital, he told me that my dad had fallen into a coma and that if I wanted to see him alive again I needed to make my way to the hospital as soon as possible.

I couldn’t find my boss, I guess he was out at lunch, by this point my head was a mess and I was just aimlessly pacing the office like a madman so I decided to run to the train station, I caught the train and called my girlfriend and she left work and met me in a taxi as soon as I got off the train.

We got to the hospital and rushed to ICU, he was unconscious as they had said, and the doctor explained that his liver had failed, and was no longer cleaning his blood, due to this they had given him some kind of drip, all I remember is a machine with four syringes mechanically pumping clear liquid into him, I was told that this was to slow his blood flow, as his blood was now poisonous, and it was his own blood flowing through his brain that had made him unconscious.

After a few hours his fingers, toes, and lips started to turn cold and blue, I wrapped his hands and feet in spare clothes he insisted that we brought with us before we left his flat.

By now I had realized that we were at the point where visiting hours no longer applied to us, we sat watching him until the early hours, hoping that he’d wake up. He started foaming pink froth from his mouth so I called the doctor immediately, the doctor told me that I needed to call anyone that would want to see him before he died and tell them to get to the hospital, I called all of his brothers and sisters and let them know, in the meantime, I tried to clean the froth that was coming out of his mouth as I knew he wouldn’t want anyone to remember him like that, and held on to all the hope that I could continue to muster that he’d still wake up and be OK.

After about an hour all of the family that was close enough to make it was there, as was the pink froth but there was nothing I could do at that point. We sat around talking to him, telling him stories and repeating stories that he used to tell us, anything we could to get through to his unconscious mind – at one point the nurse came over and told us that they couldn’t give him any more drugs to slow his blood flow, I snapped and asked whether this was due to monetary reasons.

By this point it was 3-4 am, in all honesty, I don’t remember, but it was still dark but almost light outside, my dad started stirring, everyone started calling his name and telling me that he was looking for me, I got excited and jumped around the hospital bed into his sight, shouting ‘He’s waking up! He’s waking up!’ After I had moved to the other side of the bed he sat up at a forty-five-degree angle, opened his eyes to look at me one last time, then fell back to the bed and the heart monitor flat-lined.

I’m not a religious person, but at this point, I felt as close to soul-less as an atheist could possibly feel, it was a strange kind of completely void of emotion kind of feeling that I hope never to experience again. My big brother asked me if I wanted to give my dad a kiss, so I looked at him like ‘do I look like I kiss men to you?’ and gave him a hug.

I walked out of the room and my girlfriend followed, I pushed the swing doors open and as they swung together behind me I dropped to my knees and broke into tears, two nurses ran to comfort me but I stopped crying as soon as they arrived, I just didn’t want to feel that vulnerable in the presence of strangers.

To this day I wonder whether I’d be telling the story of how my dad almost died again if I’d phoned that ambulance.” yesyesyesyes01

13. They Got Away With Letting Their Dog Attack Us

“To be honest, I’m not sure where to post this and it happened hours ago, but I can’t stop thinking about it or dwelling on it.

Here are some details for the story so I don’t have to explain later. My husband (we’ll call him John) had a few drinks, just enough to relax during his FIRST weekend in a very long time.

He works two jobs and I am currently 32 weeks pregnant with our first baby. We also have a 60lb Newfound-lab Mix (Bubba) that is extremely friendly, has never bitten or even growled at somebody, and has never been in a dog fight.

We will call the man with the dog, Carl and his wife Bertha.

On Sunday, October 4th, we went to take Bubba on his normal walk around the complex. The complex isn’t in a horrible neighborhood but definitely not in the best either.

Near the middle of our walk, we see a small white Chihuahua mix sitting on the sidewalk with Carl doing something inside his van. Usually we would have walked around the dog and Carl since we try to keep 6ft away for safety reasons but today I was extremely uncomfortable from back pain, heartburn, and Braxton Hicks (fake contractions), so I didn’t want to take a long walk and we thought it’d be fine. I mean, if you have your dog outside on the sidewalk, it should be well behaved/friendly.

We did have to step lightly on the grass to go around the dog a little bit or we would’ve trampled him, but as soon as we were in front of this little dog, IT ATTACKED! It went after Bubba making him yelp out of shock and Bubba started to snip in defense. He wasn’t attacking, just snipping, and well this little dog didn’t like that, so it started to attack John! John, who is now tangled in the leash is trying to get the little dog away from us as it’s biting and chewing on his ankles! He does the only thing he can think and that is to kick the dog as Carl sat by his car and stared at us.

I stepped back not wanting to get kicked or accidentally bitten.

John kicks the little dog into the car, but the little dog quickly recovers and goes back to attacking us. Somewhere I notice Bertha in the 2nd-floor apartment window starts screaming, “STOP KICKING MY DOG! YOU MOTHERF*CKER! LEAVE MY DOG ALONE!” I start to yell back, “YOUR DOG IS ATTACKING US! IT’S ATTACKING US!” but she kept screaming to leave her dog alone as it’s still attacking us and Bubba (I wish he got meaner) was still lightly just nipping at it.

I’m yelling to stop their dog ’cause it’s not our dog! I know if I bent down to grab the mutt, it’d attack me since I am a stranger.

Finally after what seemed like forever, Carl grabbed his mutt and pulled it away as Bertha approached me with her phone out recording and screaming at us for kicking and beating the sh*t out of her dog. I’m trying to explain that her dog attacked us and we were defending ourselves, but she kept interrupting me and wouldn’t listen.

After a few exchanged yells, John and I start to walk away as Carl, who finally put his dog on a short chain attached to something, comes around his vehicle towards us holding a hammer in an upright position and says “Hey.” I start to panic as John hands me the dog’s leash and stands between me and Carl. I’m freaking out and trying to pull him back not wanting to watch my husband get beat with a hammer as the Bertha, who is still recording this is screaming.

“You attacked my dog! You hurt my dog! You motherf*ckers!” And a bunch of stuff in Spanish I didn’t understand.

After ripping John’s hoodie very badly trying to keep him back, I realized I’m just too weak. There is no way I can stop this fight, so I turn and see 2 very buff men at the end of the street unloading stuff and kind of watching the commotion. I start to scream for help and cry for them to come and help me.

Bertha sees what I’m doing and starts to scream at them, over me, saying. “THEY BEAT MY DOG! THEY ATTACKED MY HUSBAND.”

I’m just screaming and crying trying to be heard saying, “Help, he has a hammer! He has a hammer! Help my husband!” But Bertha, who is still recording, is yelling over me about her dog.

Finally, the men start to approach us. I’m crying and stopped yelling as they got closer and tried my best to calm down, so I can try and explain that Carl has a hammer and is about to beat my husband with it! But Bertha didn’t want me to say anything! She kept screaming and yelling about her dog! Luckily, they didn’t listen to her and walked up to John and Carl.

I’m watching and can clearly see one of the guys calmly talk to the man (I didn’t hear what he said as Bertha is still screaming), and Carl put his hammer back into his vehicle and grab his dog. The dog is still snarling and trying to escape to attack us or the new guys. The new guys help John gather his car keys that fell out of his pocket and broke, as Bertha still recording and still screaming.

I noticed a woman leaning on a tree and another man standing by me. The man tells me that this dog has attacked before, and I ask him for a phone to call the police. The man just left to go inside his apartment and watch from his window.

The 2 men that came to help and John start walking away. Continuing our route and they are trying to joke and lighten up the mood to help me calm down a bit.

Bertha is still screaming and threatening to call the cops, which I wish she did call the cops. I wanted the cops there. She kept threatening and I told her please do! Please call them, but she never did.

I am very proud of my dog, after all this anxiety and stress, he still played with one of the men and his daughter. Got lots of love and gave them lots of kisses, which I think proves our dog did not attack.

Now I’m here, hours later… Still dwelling on the whole situation… It’s very unlike me to do this. I am finding myself extremely upset that they got away with all this. The man got away threatening me, my husband, and our unborn daughter’s life with a hammer, and his crazy wife still gets to play victim? When we got home, I wanted to call the police, but we didn’t know what apartment number they live at, and we definitely weren’t going to walk back as that seems like it’d just stir the pot even more.

Tomorrow, I thought about going to the landlord and explaining the situation and ask for a map of the complex so I can get the apartment number and then calling the police. I doubt they would do anything as it was hours ago… But I would want a record of it in case anything like this happens to us again or another family that walks by.

I am posting this story in hopes that it helps me get over it and get some sleep tonight, I am having an extremely hard time accepting the fact that these 2 jerks got away with playing the victim when they were the ones to pull out a weapon and threaten us.” Reddit user

12. They Threw Their Baby Against The Wall To Get It To Stop Crying

If anything, that will just make them cry more, first of all…

“When I was a kid, we had a single mother living in our basement suite.

Her baby was less than a year old. Soon after she moved in, she started dating one of her friends, and he would be around a lot, even babysitting for her, so she could have some alone time with her friends.

My mom mentioned that a couple of times a week, her baby would have these awful crying fits that went on for hours and hours.

She started to wonder if maybe there was some way she could help, so she talked to her about it.

The woman said, ‘Oh, that’s when [boyfriend’s name] watches him, he doesn’t like to go to bed. He’ll come around.’

Well, a few weeks go by of this progressively getting worse. The tenant just kept insisting there was no problem and that her baby just wasn’t used to the guy yet. Then one night, my sister was in her room. The wall of her bedroom divided her room from the tenant’s bathroom. She heard the baby crying and eventually heard the boyfriend bring the baby into the bathroom.

Suddenly there was a thud against the wall and an ear-piercing wail, and my sister screamed for me to come into the room.

Before I could get there, there was another thud and then silence.
Cue police, ambulance, and fire. The baby was alive but had some head injuries and I believe brain damage, but they don’t know the extent of it. Long story short, the boyfriend eventually admitted that the baby crying made him upset. In an effort to quiet him, he would hurt him to try to teach him who was boss.

On this particular evening, he reached a breaking point and decided to try holding his head underwater. When that didn’t work, and the baby wound up kicking him, he threw him into the bathroom wall until he was quiet. Then he called 911 and said that the baby had started randomly having seizures.
He wound up in jail for eight years, and the mom and baby moved out.

We never had another tenant after that.” ChillingInTraffic

Another User Comments:

“Postpartum blues, depression, and psychosis are very real possibilities that can affect the way mothers and even fathers react to their own children.

Shaken baby syndrome is another one where the parents don’t even mean to hurt the baby, but it happens. That being said, this situation is nothing like what I’m talking about and is completely inexcusable.” 4427910004015126

11. They Won’t Stop Agonizing My Family Despite Police Reports

“This is a long story but it is well worth reading, and I believe that someone with legal background would be very interested in how it has played out.

I have lived in my home since 2016 and have a wife and two small children.

Our neighbor originally was nice to us but showed some signs of mental illness, such as placing a sign in her front yard saying, “THIS IS ANTIFREEZE” and a little plastic bowl of blue liquid (obviously it’s actually green and she didn’t know). This was in response to a dog pooping in her yard.

We also have a large lab, and one day, I came home to find dog sh*t all over my porch. I watched her leave her home quickly, and then a police car came and basically told me that someone complained about a dog not being on a leash.

I texted her saying sorry and I wanted to talk, and she would not commit to it. Her grandkids and mine used to play together but do not, and a lot of her anger seemed to be around our son and her view that he was “a brat.” I blocked her number after that, and we were resolved to leave her alone.

So, while we did leave her alone, she and her family did not do the same for us.

I noticed a few months after this that random large rocks and sticks were in my yard that weren’t there that morning. In February of 2017, I installed two cameras to watch my driveway and front porch. Almost daily, she would walk onto our property and throw trash onto it, and her daughter would take her car and rather than back down their own driveway, pull all the way around and drive straight through my yard.

I kept these videos and began adding them to Youtube and USB drives. Finally, I recorded a video in April 2017 that clearly showed her dumping raw trash right onto my driveway.

I went to the police station and reported it, showed the officers the videos, and they said they would talk to her. They did, I watched them go over there, and she denied everything. You would think that after police intervention she would stop, nope, it actually got worse.

For the rest of April that year, I had many videos of her and her grandchildren throwing rocks and hitting my house and doing the same general sh*t they always do. I knew that she was a Sunday school teacher, so I called her pastor and met with him and his wife to show the over 100 videos that I had collected. They were absolutely appalled and stated that they would speak to her. Mind you, this was an attempt to keep her and her grandkids out of real trouble with the law.

The pastor talked to her and we thought that this would cause the behavior to stop, NOPE!

From there, she proceeded to call the fire department on me almost daily. Her cousin is the fire chief of the county. I began asking that police come every time she did this and collecting many police reports. I finally had enough and searched for the father of her two grandchildren to make him aware of what his kids were being coached to do by their grandma.

It took a few days, but I did find him and speak to him. Both parents are divorced and their father is hated by my neighbor and subsequently, he doesn’t like his ex-wife or her either. This actually worked for about a year to get her to stop. It terrified her. Her daughter came over and apologized profusely and asked that I not press charges. I didn’t. You would think this was the end, right? BIG OL’ NOPE!!!

She did seem to cease any activity that targeted me until about two months ago.

She had coached her grandkids into bullying my son when he goes outside and to basically ride their bikes past him and his friends and be obnoxious jacka**es. I came home one day and my wife, our son’s friend’s mom, and our sh*tball neighbor in a screaming match because the grandkids were once again being obnoxious and screaming things. I immediately took control of the situation, turned on my camera, and very calmly listened to my sh*tty neighbor basically claim complete innocence in all of this.

I calmly explained to her that I have enough evidence to have her charged and enough evidence to have her grandkids in trouble. She took this and stated that she also had evidence of us doing something, but we have not once ever retaliated, so clearly she’s full of sh*t, which I also called out. According to her, “I was going to come apologize to y’all but didn’t,” and “The Lord knows my heart.” I asked her to leave us alone and we would do the same.

You thought this was the end of this, didn’t you? NOPE!

About a week later, I noticed that her and her grandkids were paying a lot of attention to the people that live directly behind her. So her anger now was targeting someone else for once. Over time, I figured out that the dog back there sometimes barked, and she hated that, so that was her issue. I recorded and watched this dumba** and her dipsh*t offspring stand in the middle of their driveway blowing a “dog whistle” so that the dog would be in pain.

She then decided that since the dog sometimes barked, that she needed to set off her car alarm every morning at 7 am for a minimum of 5 minutes. Then also decided that what would really help is to throw rocks and trash over the fence and repeatedly hit the fence with a basketball. Seeing this and having all of the videos of it occurring, I wrote a letter to that neighbor and put it in his mailbox.

Later that evening I received a call from him, and guess what?

HE’S A COP!!!

I met with him and gave him every single video I had of her and her sh*tty offspring messing with his dog, which ended up being about 25. She was unaware of this newfound friendship, and he and I agreed that he would call his supervisor to get an officer from a different precinct to respond to a call at his home. When the officer got there, we showed him the plethora of videos and reports I have compiled.

In total, I have about 200 videos and 60 pages of police and fire reports. The officer stated that we had enough evidence to take her to jail: animal abuse, littering, vandalism, and contributing to the delinquency of a minor.

The officer asked if we wanted him to apprehend her. I and that neighbor ultimately decided against that (he didn’t have the history with her that I do) but that the officer would go to her home and explain to her that should any of this continue, she would be going to jail.

He stayed at her home for about 30 minutes and afterward called us both and stated that she denied everything, even when he said he clearly saw the videos and kept offering to make him food or drinks.

In the week after this, I was away on business for a weekend. She stopped my wife outside and said that she had a video of me putting nails in her tires. Clearly, that is complete horse sh*t. What was odd is that all 4 of my cars tires had nails in them that were identical.

And of course, my camera lost power over that weekend. You would think that this absolutely has to be the end, right? NOT A CHANCE!!!

I ordered better surveillance cameras and installed them. They also have night vision. I have caught basically the same antics as before. Except for this time, she is directly targeting my son, I have her on video mocking the way he runs to her grandkids, but no sound. It was clear that is what she was doing.

I also have more videos of her throwing sh*t too. She’s basically right back to where we started. When we are outside, she makes it a point to go out and to talk loudly about anything, but she is a coward so cannot do it in person. Two nights ago, she yelled at the top of her lungs that she had found glass in her yard as if talking to someone inside of her home. Basically, this means that she has probably put glass into my yard, as when she ever does anything like that, you can bet that she actually did it.

To give you an idea of the evidence I have collected and archived, and what I am holding back for a possible lawsuit. I give you the following:

I keep a Youtube account with at least 60 videos. And have a USB with well over 200 videos of some type of nuisance or crime being committed by her, her daughter, and both of her grandchildren. Or a mixture of both or all parties. These span from January 2017 until today.

Numerous police reports and fire department reports cataloged.

Her mailbox is technically on my property, which I do believe I have the right to remove.

Her shed never had a building permit issued, and it also is encroaching on my property by a few feet, which I also can have removed.

There is a natural area between both of our homes that is rocky, and when it rains, sediment runs down my driveway making a mess. She is the high point while my property is the low point.

She purposely mows this area to kill it so that this will happen. By my county’s laws that is her problem to fix at her on a dime.

So I am holding back quite a bit, and honestly, I believe I could get a restraining order easily to protect my children from her, and I think that filing a suit stating emotional pain would also be successful. This genuinely causes anxiety and we cannot leave our home or face it being attacked.

I didn’t go into this, but it seems that she believes she is being persecuted. We have never retaliated against her but from what I understand, she tells everyone that we are causing the issues and that she is simply putting (insert object) back onto our property. She also claims to have all kinds of evidence that shows me personally doing (insert action) to her property. Clearly this person is mentally ill and I do pity her, but this has to end.” World_Reowned_Guy

Another User Comments:

“That environment is likely not only physically and mentally, but also developmentally dangerous for her grandchildren.

For the sake of you, your neighbors, and your own sanity, you have to have her taken into custody so that she can be psychologically evaluated. If everything here is true, she clearly has an undiagnosed or untreated mental illness and needs to be admitted.

There are 48-hour psych holds that the police can implement that are often used in these scenarios.” thesneakywalrus

10. They Didn’t Respect Their Neighbors At The Slightest

They’re sure fun to live by.

“I’ve been very blessed to have experienced only good neighbors for the majority of my life.

Even when I lived briefly in a haunted house in St. Louis, the neighbors were very nice people.

The worst neighbors I’ve ever had moved into my neighborhood some years ago when I lived in a lovely 2 story house in a beautiful location.

The house was in a gated community with a very strong Homeowners Association (HOA) in a very nice part of north Dallas. The brick and stone houses were all on 1/2 acre lots. For the most part, they were impeccably maintained with manicured lawns.

There was a lovely wild preserve close by with lots of trees and beautiful flowers.

I lived quietly and happily in the neighborhood for a number of years until one of the next-door neighbors decided to retire and move to a small East Texas town. Instead of selling their home, they decided to rent it out in order to generate passive income.

Initially, the house renters were fine. They were quiet and were nearly invisible. After the first set of renters left, the next renters were truly the worst neighbors I’ve ever experienced.

Someone didn’t do a very good job of vetting the new renters or they just didn’t care. The result of that lack of attention resulted in the arrival of very bad renters.

The second set of renters consisted of multiple families complete with a caravan of old, broken-down cars. They showed up one day in a parade of old rusted out pickup trucks and proceeded to move into the beautiful single-family brick residence.

It was hard to keep track of all the people coming and going, but at one point it appeared there were at least 12 adults (maybe as many as 15) living in a home that had originally been designed for a single-family.

An assortment of strange people was seen coming and going at all hours of the day and night. The house appeared to have a revolving door. In fact, at times the glass storm door was left hanging wide open. Sometimes the front door was also ajar. It was very strange compared to the very quiet demeanor of the rest of the neighborhood.

Unfortunately, if I opened my front door, it opened right out into a trailer overflowing with their junk.

Sometimes there was so much junk in the trailer, which wasn’t secured, I wondered if they spewed junk all over the road as they pulled the trailer behind their SUV. They also had 4 other SUV sized vehicles which they parked end to end, leaving no room for several neighbors to park their cars. Heaven forbid if there had been any emergency need for first responder vehicles. They would have had to park a block away.

The neighbors had a 2 car garage and driveway in the back off the alley.

The garage was packed top to bottom with trash. When the garage doors were open it was like a scene from a hoarders reality TV show. I was amazed that they had packed as much stuff into the garage as they had. The first time I drove by and saw the garage doors open and the massive amount of stuff packed inside, I couldn’t look away.

Two old cars were parked in the driveway in front of the garage on cement blocks. Eventually, they had dogs that barked nonstop. All-day and all night.
They let all the beautiful grass in the front yard completely die and turn to dust.

It was the only house in the neighborhood with potholes of dirt in the front yard. Whatever grass managed to survive on the sides and in the back, grew to 4 feet high and was overgrown with weeds.

Trash was strewn in the backyard. It was almost as if they didn’t want to throw trash in the cans, but would just open the back door and throw it out into the yard.

Eventually, an old broken down bright yellow panel truck was added to their fleet of vehicles and parked in the extended line behind the open trash-filled trailer. There were many days when they would move furniture in and out of the trailer and truck for hours.

I have no idea what they were doing but often wondered if they broke into homes and stole the furniture. Although they were a complete eyesore on the neighborhood, they didn’t try to engage with anyone on a personal level. A few times I did smile and wave at them, but they just ignored me or glared back.

I did my very best to ignore the happening next door as much as possible. It was none of my business what they were doing, as long as I didn’t see dead bodies or witness anything that seemed overtly criminal.

As long as they left me alone, I was fine.

I strive not to be a busybody neighbor and try to live my own life, not minding the lives of others. I do try to love my neighbors and treat them with respect. These neighbors definitely tested my resolve. Unfortunately, their presence did a lot to degrade the property values in the neighborhood, which added to their unpopularity.

Many of the neighbors on my block complained constantly to the City because of parking, noise, weeds, high grass (around the dirt holes) and trash violations.

They also complained to the Homeowners Association who levied fines and sent angry letters to the original homeowners.

After two long years, the bad renters left suddenly in the middle of the night. A huge pile of furniture, clothing, trash, and assorted items was left stacked up outside their house in a mound by the street curb. The house was completely trashed to the point it had to be completely redone from top to bottom. The yard had to be completely landscaped and the privacy fence had to be replaced.

It took multiple crews of workmen several months to completely repair all the major damage done to the house by the bad neighbors.

I often wondered if the amount of rent the homeowners received from the bad renters covered the extensive amount of money they had to spend to repair the house to make it inhabitable.

Luckily once the house was repaired, it was sold to a very nice, quiet family without loud barking dogs or trailers filled with trash.

The bad neighbors did so much damage, the house was basically redone to almost brand new condition, which actually helped the neighborhood housing values. The neighborhood HOA also tightened their regulations for renting residences, although there was only so much they can do.

The moral to this story? Always pay close attention to who you are renting your property to and respect your neighbors.” Karen Marie Shelton

9. He’s The Reason His Girlfriend Ended Up In ICU

“Last year after a blissful first year of living in a new apartment all on my own for the first time, a man moved in next door that I will never forget.

The layout of the apartment is crucial to understanding this incident. The most important part is that my balcony and his balcony are only partially separated by a wall; there is a solid 2-foot gap in which you can easily walk from one to the other.

For context, I previously had a very lovely woman living next door for the entire first year I lived there who never crossed this balcony threshold without being explicitly invited. I only throw this in there so you can understand I wasn’t previously concerned about someone infiltrating my space.

The first time I met this new neighbor, he was unloading groceries from his massive truck into the assigned parking spot next to mine. As I was driving up, he and a girl I assumed to be his girlfriend were unloading boxes from Costco.

I noticed them speaking and as soon as I was out of the car, they went silent. I nodded to them, proceeded to the elevator, and the guy ran up behind me, threw some boxes down and begged me to wait.

No problem, I’m a good neighbor.

While in the elevator, the girlfriend refused to make eye contact or speak to me (a little weird but I just thought she was shy) but he quickly introduced himself and was extremely chatty. In the 45 seconds it takes to get to the floor where our apartments were, he asked how I liked the place, where I was from, and where I worked. Looking back, his enthusiasm was a little strange but I chalked it up to him being excited to be in a new place.

For the sake of the rest of this story, let’s call him Sam. Sam was maybe 33, 6 ft. tall, with a slim muscular build and had hair buzzed extremely short, as if to mask his balding. Pretty average looking by all accounts.

The first few weeks we run into each other often and he always makes small talk, and ALWAYS refers to me as “Miss” (I assume it’s because he forgot my name but wanted to be polite).

I almost never see his girlfriend after the first night, but occasionally I can hear him talking to a lady in his apartment as the walls are reasonably thin.

One night about 3 months after Sam moved in, my boyfriend is spending the night and we were watching movies on the couch, it’s maybe 11:30 PM.

The back of my couch is against the wall I share with Sam and we hear some banging noises. My first thought is that he and his girlfriend must be getting it on.

Boyfriend and I laugh and turn the volume up a bit to drown them out. Then, in addition to the banging, the neighbors begin screaming, we can hear objects being thrown, glass shattering. The words are muffled but there is distinctive anger and crying going on. My boyfriend, gem that he is, steps onto the semi shared balcony and in his loudest voice yells over (without crossing onto Sam’s balcony) “EVERYTHING OKAY IN THERE?”

The girl opens the sliding glass door on Sam’s side a minute or two later and says “Sorry about that!” so… we leave it alone.

I’m concerned, but we have no idea what actually happened and decide to go to bed. Big mistake, I know.

I wake up around 3 am to more screaming, but my boyfriend refuses to wake up and I’m not about to take my 5-foot self to break up whatever is going on at 3 am. I considered calling the police but was so drowsy I convinced myself I dreamed it. I deeply regret that decision.

The next morning I woke up to some terrible personal news (an entirely unrelated death of a friend) and pretty much put the events of that night on the back burner.

I didn’t forget, but it also wasn’t on my mind.

Fast forward about 2 weeks. It’s a warm day and I’m outside reading a book in a robe, sports bra, and shorts.

I’m in a chair that faces away from Sam’s apartment, so I can’t see his side from where I am. I’m deep in my book when suddenly I get tapped on the shoulder. Sam is standing behind me and asks if we can talk for a second.

This man has already crossed an (albeit invisible) line by coming on my side of the balcony, but I also can’t get to my door without physically moving him aside so I ask him what’s going on.

He told me it was his birthday and asked if I knew where to get some drugs to smoke because I “seemed like a girl who knows how to have a good time.” As we live in a state where the stuff is legal, I told him that I’m sure Google would provide the best dispensary in the area but I personally didn’t have any.

He proceeds to tell me how inebriated he got last night and at this point, I am itching for an exit. As I start to move as if to signal I’m done talking, he reaches out for my shoulder and tells me he hit/scratched my car last night because he was driving “very, very wasted” (remember his massive truck?) – he says all of this with a smile on his face, almost laughing. I’m surprised but mostly want to get away from him because my creep senses are starting to tingle and I don’t want to blow up at him for hitting my car.

He says he’ll send me his insurance info if I give him my number, and THANKFULLY I knew that would be a bad call.

I make a bad nervous joke about knowing where he lived and said if the damage was bad enough, I would knock on his door to get his insurance. He counters by saying he will leave a note with his info on my door. He retreats from my balcony while also saying he’d prefer to just pay me cash and not involve insurance.

I give it an hour or so and then I head down to assess the damage (I did this because I didn’t want to walk down at the same time as him / risk having him follow me). Sure enough, there are two long new scratches on the driver’s door. They’re not deep, just kind of superficial, or worthy of a call to insurance immediately.

I really just didn’t want to get involved with him in any way so I decided I could deal with the scratches, but this little event has kind of shaken me.

At this point, I KNEW something was off with him. Nothing unusual happens as far as I’m aware this night.

The next day is a Saturday, and as I had to work the next day, I am home alone, watching some action movie and it’s around 11 PM. I’m on the sofa with my cat curled up on me and the movie is relatively loud, so it takes me a little while to register this banging noise coming from the hallway of my apartment building.

I honestly only noticed because my cat had woken up and got all puffed up and freaked out.

I turn down the volume of the film and suddenly the banging is getting louder and louder. And just as I stand up, I hear the 5 words no one wants to hear coming from their door, “OPEN UP, IT’S THE POLICE!”

My stomach dropped to the floor. I had lied to Sam the day before, I totally had stuff from the dispensary.

And I had just smoked outside on the balcony (the part farthest away from Sam’s) maybe 20 minutes before. I’m totally panicked, floating like a kite, and trying to control my breathing so I don’t immediately come off as suspicious before I answer the door.

I remember checking the peephole to see a close up of a cop’s face and then opening the door, coming face to face with 6 officers ALL with guns drawn.

I am about .5 seconds away from completely peeing my pants in fear, still convinced I’m somehow in trouble for smoking.

The officer who seems to be in charge can sense instantly the level of my panic and he says, “Ma’am, you’re not in trouble. We need to speak with you about your neighbor. Can we come in?” At this point, I’m reeling and my whole being is tense. I let the cops in but my heart hasn’t moved from my throat. The policeman in charge asks me about any interactions with Sam. I tell them I barely know him, that he just lives next to me, only moved in a few months ago.

I ask why they needed to be in my apartment – I’m scared but also I don’t typically get along with cops, and I have the right to know why 6 of them practically waved their guns in my face.

The lead officer proceeds to tell me that Sam is a bad guy – he apparently beat his girlfriend so badly the night prior that she was now in the ICU for her injuries. They also told me Sam had a gun and had barricaded himself in the apartment next to mine.

They said they had spoken to my building manager and knew my place had access to his balcony, and they needed to use it. Then they asked me to go into my bedroom and lock the doors and turn the lights off.

The next 30 – 45 minutes were a nightmare. In my panic, I had left my cellphone on my kitchen counter and had to sit in my room just listening to the commotion.

No shots were ever fired, but there was a lot of yelling and what sounded like things being thrown.

Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime, the main officer knocked on my door and told me that Sam had been arrested, and thanked me for letting them use my apartment. They asked me questions for maybe 15 more minutes and left.

I wish this is where the story ended, but there is a bit more. In the days following Sam’s arrest, I became even more panicked about him coming back to the apartment building, worried about retaliation.

I hadn’t said anything to the police to technically incriminate him (I had proof of nothing except his word that he was the one who scratched my car) but I did tell them about the night my boyfriend and I heard them fight.

About 5 days later, Sam reappeared at the building as I was coming home from work one evening. He tried to approach me, but the elevator shut just as he was running to catch it.

My whole body got tense, like the feeling when you come this close to getting in a car accident but narrowly avoid it. I stayed off my balcony entirely from this point and always kept the curtains closed. We didn’t speak (or really see each other) at all for another few weeks, and then had our final interaction.

Sam stopped me in the parking lot one night, running after me as I was about to get on the elevator.

He begged me to tell him why I let the cops in that night.

I told him the honest truth, that I was stoned, didn’t know what to do and had a bad history with cops (this is all true and again I was concerned about him trying to retaliate). He then got pretty upset and kept trying to repeat the question, obviously wanting a different answer. When I couldn’t give him one, he then offered me $3,000 to “testify as a character witness on his behalf” because I “knew him” and “knew how he really treated women.” I was speechless and very freaked out.

He told me his hearing was the next Thursday morning and he asked if I could show up. I was like a deer frozen in headlights for a moment and then somehow got the hell out of there after mumbling a string of words that were most likely incoherent.

The Wednesday night before this trial, I came home from work and my cat was acting kind of weird, like something had just spooked her and her tail was puffed out.

I kind of shook it off but I notice through the curtains there was something taped to the outside of my sliding glass door. Apparently Sam had left a post-it with his phone number and name and underneath “I am counting on you.”

Needless to say, I never showed up. I took a photo of the post-it, grabbed my cat, locked all my doors, and stayed at my mom’s house for about 5 days after that happened.

I did phone the police to let them know he had been on my balcony again, but they never followed up with anything.

Eventually, my boyfriend came and we went back to my place together – everything was as it should have been.

I never saw Sam again, but a few weeks later a lady I had never seen before was cleaning out his apartment. Maybe a month after that, new people moved in and things have been normal ever since.

I tried calling the police and the county jail to see if he was in lock-up again, but no one was able to release information to me. I’m hoping that means he’s there, if he did what the police said he did.

So to Sam, I will say – I’m not really sure what happened but my biggest regret is not calling the police when I felt like I should have in my gut.

Let’s NEVER meet again.” thelilspookygirl

Another User Comments:

“If you’d like some reassurance on him being locked up, most counties in the USA have publicized inmate lists.

Look up the county jail where the arrest happened in (assuming this will be where you live), and you should be able to find him. He may be in state prison, which should also have an offender search where you can find him. Keep safe!” possiblyilluminati

8. She Was Totally Two-Faced

“Kathy was a former downstairs neighbor of mine who was a devotee of paganism (though she always called herself a “witch”). She had a bunch of occult stuff in her apartment, would wish people “Happy Samhain” during Halloween, often dressed in black, etc.

This didn’t really bother me because who cares what crazy people want to believe? My small Midwest county has a population of just over 30,000 people yet contains well over a hundred godd*mned churches so what’s another crazy belief among so many others?

I only mention the witch stuff to drive home how flighty she was.

Kathy started out as a very friendly and considerate neighbor. She was constantly engaging members of my household in warm conversation. If either of my kids disappeared while doing laundry, invariably they were in her apartment after having been invited in for cookies or other baked goods.

She even used to give my daughter her unwanted designer clothes (both were very petite and roughly the same body type despite my daughter being in middle school). In return, I convinced my father (who owned the building) to allow her to have a dog in her unit despite it being against the lease (we’d had a LOT of pet damage over the years and it’s just easier to not allow animals period). Overall, she acted like a neighbor anyone would want to have.

Unfortunately, this didn’t last.

As mentioned, my father owns the apartment house we live in and one day he called to ask why Kathy was complaining about me on Facebook. He said she was b*tching about how noisy we were- always thumping the floors or playing our television or video games too loudly and she couldn’t get any sleep. Needless to say, I was gobsmacked because at no point did she ever say anything to us. We saw each other all the time so I would have expected her to say something if we were disturbing her.

Having lived in her unit myself for ten years, I knew full well how annoying it was having loud, inconsiderate people above me so I had always been careful to chide my children if they ever thumped the floor or otherwise caused too much noise.

Perplexed, I went downstairs to ask her what the problem was. Kathy wasn’t in her unit but I could hear her in the other downstairs apartment, occupied at the time by a single guy about my age.

I knocked on his door, he opened it and sure enough, there was my complaining neighbor relaxing comfortably on his couch. I knew the two of them were very friendly (despite having an out of state boyfriend, Kathy spent a worrying amount of time alone with the guy downstairs). It really wasn’t any of my business, though.

I told Kathy how I’d learned she’d been complaining about me on Facebook and I apologized if we were being too loud (even though I really didn’t feel we were) and asked her to please say something to me in the future if we were disturbing her.

She in turn apologized and explained that (here’s the kicker) she had recently started some new medication which a) made it hard for her to sleep and b) made her EXTRA SENSITIVE TO NOISE.

While I didn’t say anything, in the back of my mind I was like, “Well, then why in the hell are you complaining about MY family being too noisy when it’s YOUR drugs that are causing the problems?” but to maintain a good relationship, I let it go.

I went back upstairs and told my kids we needed to be extra quiet from now on and to stay out of the kitchen at night because it was directly above Kathy’s bedroom. This was just to be safe so as not to thump the floors if she was trying to sleep.

About a week later, she started complaining on Facebook again about us being too noisy. In fact, her posts became extremely insulting. Now to be fair, I am a huge fat b*stard and my wife is overweight, but Kathy REALLY harped on about our weight and how we were so fat she was afraid we were going to crash through the floor and crush her.

She even called my very sweet, quiet wife a “cow.” She even attacked our parenting, saying how sh*tty we were because we made our kids do chores around the house like cooking, cleaning, and laundry. Again, this was only about a week since the two of us had a friendly chat where she all but admitted her prescription drugs were the problem.

I called my father and explained the situation to him and told him I didn’t know what else to do.

Fortunately, not only did he believe me, but Kathy’s insults convinced him she wasn’t worth the hassle and didn’t care if she moved out or not. Eventually, I responded to her posts on Facebook, not only reminding her how she told me all about the medication she was on but also pointing out how she was spending all that time with the guy downstairs despite having a boyfriend.

We had several Facebook rows back and forth like this until, eventually, she broke her lease by moving out without giving us the required notice.

She also left the unit dirty, so we kept her security deposit.

A couple of months later Kathy filed a small claims lawsuit against my father alleging emotional damages from how terrible I’d been to her and how we’d illegally kept her deposit. This was ridiculous because a) anything I said was reacting to crap she had said and b) the building is in my father’s name and I don’t legally have anything to do with it, technically I’m just another tenant.

Our lawyer laughed when he saw the filing and sent Kathy a friendly letter warning her that if attorney fees started racking up she’d be on the hook to pay them when she inevitably lost the case. She didn’t even bother showing up for the first hearing and we won by default, which means not only did she lose her $500 security deposit for breaking her lease, she was also out another $100 she had to pay for the filing fee.

Technically, we could have countersued her at that point for the attorney fees we’d already accrued, but we decided to let it drop and to just get on with our lives.

The last I ever saw of Kathy was a photo that showed up in my Facebook feed of her dog, a white poodle that she had taken to a groomer to be completely dyed a myriad of garish colors. The poor thing looked like someone puked a box full of Lucky Charms all over it.

Yeah, she’s THAT kind of sh*tty person.” evilkumquat

7. He Was Obsessed Over His Parking Spot

It’s not that serious, bruh.

“Townhouse. D*uchebag next to me was the son of rich parents, went to a fancy private school in DC where he apparently wasted his parents’ money because from what I’ve seen on his Facebook he’s barely literate.

He squandered his expensive education and joined the marines, where he was supposedly a sniper. Came back, and from what I understand he did some extended jail or short prison time down south, and eventually knocked up the woman that became his wife.

His parents bought a townhouse and paid the mortgage for the place next to the one I moved into, and neither of them was employed in the first year or so I lived there. She was a piece of work herself, don’t really know much about her history.

Anyway, d*uchebag objected that I parked one of my 3 vehicles in the unreserved space closest to our units (we were in a corner of the parking lot) but it was not my primary vehicle so it stayed there for days at a time.

He insists that his wife be allowed to use the space. My space in the last spot in the row at the corner closest to us, then his, the unreserved, then 2 more reserved for other units, etc. There was an island in the middle of the parking lot that allowed no parking alongside it (fire zone) and plenty of extra parking about 40 yards away. I parked my third vehicle in an entirely separate area of the neighborhood, as I rarely drove it, and the area I parked it was not directly in front of many houses.

Anyway, he insisted his wife shouldn’t have to walk that far with their small child, etc. and I just said “well then YOU park down the way and let her park in the reserved spot out front.

He wouldn’t have that. He kept getting confrontational, at one point bellowing at me physically nose-to-nose at my door.

I was having none of his sh*t. Then one day without warning he files a report that he witnessed me repeatedly and deliberately slam the rear door of my SUV into the side of his car, and I get served with a charge of malicious destruction of property.

Meanwhile, my vehicle is blue, both theirs are silver, and the outermost point of my door when it’s open is about 5 inches higher than the row of marks on his car and there’s no hint of blue to them. Yes, the marks covered about a foot or more along the fender, not something that would happen from the single deliberate act he claims to have witnessed.

I later was able to determine that the marks lined up EXACTLY to the point that HER car’s right rear door would strike his fender when he has managed to park in the coveted spot next to his reserved spot.

She would whack it loading and unloading their child from the right rear seat.

Charges were eventually dropped for lack of evidence after we went to mediation on it. A couple of weeks later I get home late one evening and walk up to my place and he’s out on his porch staring daggers at me. I pay him no mind. A little later I’m paid a visit from the police. Seems he has a real doozy of a scratch down the side of his car, and of course, he thinks I did it.

When asked when it happened, he said earlier that day. Hmm, I was away for the day and have proof, couldn’t have been me. You cried wolf once, and now you really look like an ass.

Now it’s time for revenge. First I try and take him so small claims court to recoup the retainer I paid preparing to defend myself, no luck. They went out of their way to occupy the non-reserved spot at any opportunity, even swapping cars any time happened to leave with whatever vehicle was in it, etc.

So, I set up a streaming webcam in my upstairs window looking down at the parking area. I worked literally 2 minutes away, so I could see when she would leave during the day to get cigarettes or what-not while he was at work, and she would often find me pulling into the neighborhood as she left.

I would leave the car I was driving in the coveted spot left again with my other one that had been parked further away.

Ha-ha!

One day I’m looking at the feed and I see a fire truck out front. I duck out of work to see what the fuss is, and make a pass through the neighborhood and back out again. As I’m leaving, he’s about to pull in, but he follows me instead. I drive around randomly for a few minutes and he’s right behind me no matter what. I eventually stop by a roadside pupusa truck and get out like I’m going to order, and this a**hat stops right in the road next to my truck and is on the phone watching me.

I order some food, get back in my truck, and call the police as I drive off. Eventually, he stops following me. Turns out from the police that it seems she had reported a hazmat situation out back of their house, something about pepper spray on their trash can that she got on her hands and in her face, and she claims I put it there. He even claims he saw me watching the scene from another part of the neighborhood when I can demonstrate that I was at work at the time.

Utter bullsh*t. Nothing came of this.

Next step, I rearranged my entire living room so that my TV and enormous speakers, which were formally against the exterior wall of my end unit, are now against our shared wall.

I proceed to play music and watch loud action movies (while replaying the most intense scenes repeatedly) at every opportunity, all while watching the webcam upstairs for the police to pull up so I can turn it down to a more reasonable but still not “quiet” level that could still barely be heard but was far from complaint-worthy.

I never did this after 8:00 PM mind you, I’m not a total d*ck… He called them at least 4 times and they eventually told him to stop wasting their time.

I eventually moved away after 2 years, and I’ve managed to keep tabs on them via the state’s court records system. There were numerous vehicle/traffic infractions including multiple accidents, driving on a suspended license, leaving the scene of an accident, displaying flashing lights on an unauthorized vehicle, and of course speeding.

Criminal charges including the unlawful taking of a vehicle, drug/paraphernalia charges, domestic violence, failure to appear, violation of probation, and IMPERSONATING A POLICE OFFIcER (he showed up on the department’s Facebook page for that, I about died laughing)

He and his wife separated and filed for divorce. She also racked up some charges including disorderly conduct, disturbing the peace, failure to obey a lawful order, failure to display/present license/registration, driving on expired tags, falsifying tag/registration, driving on a suspended license, identity theft, credit card theft, and more.

The wife died a year or so ago, and per his Facebook page, she is now “AN ANGLE IN HEAVEN.” He’s now raising their daughter on his own living with his parents in their $1.6M house on the water, or so it would seem since their address has been listed for every hit in the case searches for the last 3 years or so since they split.

I went to check up on him again a few weeks ago, only to find that his parents had filed for emergency custody of his daughter.

No, he’s not gone and given them a reason to take her from him, he’s up and died. Apparently, you can view toxicology and autopsy records at the chief medical officer’s office, so I called to find out if they had a record for him. The CMO said yes, but the autopsy doesn’t have any information that the toxicology report didn’t already explain, that he OD’d on hard drugs. His parents are now battling the wife’s sister for custody of his daughter.

I feel sorry for that kid, but she’s better off without the pieces of sh*t that she comes from.” xterraguy

6. They Sure Liked The Color Black…

Black is the new white, huh?

“My parents are landlords to an apartment in my town. They had one resident a couple of years ago who never paid on time, sometimes tried to bounce checks, was rather rude to the other tenants, etc.

Finally, after her father paid her bill for her for like the 5th time, they evicted her.

(Well, told her father that she needed to go, and he finally put his foot down.) By the way, this woman wasn’t handicapped or anything either; she was just some art major at the local college.
Annnnywaaaays, after she moved out and her dad dropped the keys off at our house, my parents went over to make sure everything was gone and tidied up, so they could show the apartment again.

She had painted everything black. No, not just the walls, everything.

The ceiling and the hardwood floors included. They ended up explaining this to her father (she had managed to hide it from him by carrying all of her stuff to the porch to be loaded into his truck; he had no idea), and he had to pay up several thousand dollars to get it all fixed.” Reddit user

5. He Was The Reason For Our Infestation

“I’d have to say one of my worst was when I lived in this little single-level apartment complex.

It was basically 5 single bedroom apartments, that had the parking directly in front of the building. I lived in the middle one when I was 19, and it was nice and quiet. The one to my right (when facing the building) became vacant after about a year, and the person who moved into it was a f*cking nightmare.

I’ve had loud neighbors, sketchy ones, rude ones, and everything else you can imagine. But this f*cking guy took the cake in his own special way.

He was quiet, I very rarely saw him, and it took about 4 months until the issue he created went from nonexistent to unbearable. His issue was being an absolutely lazy and filthy a**hole. It started with the truck he had backed up to about 2 feet from his door slowly filling up with bag after bag after bag of garbage. I figured since it was winter tho, that maybe he just didn’t want to slip on the ice, and was planning to drop it on his way out someday.

The dumpster was only like 20 feet away at the end of the lot, but it would get slick often.

By the time summer hit, the heat set in…. the MOUNTAIN of garbage in both his truck and now front porch went from an eyesore to a gut-wrenching, rancid smell overnight. I’ve never smelled something like that. Like sour death.

I knocked on his door, and he basically slammed the door in my face. But not fast enough for me to see that absolute pit he had created already inside.

And smell how much worse it was in there than outside even. I complained to everyone I could, and our f*cking slumlords FINALLY made him take care of the trash outside.

By that time though, his disgusting apartment had pretty much permeated the entire complex. I was cool with all the other neighbors, and they all were dealing with the same sh*t. The final kicker was when the mice that apparently had formed a colony in his landfill and made their way through the walls into my apartment and the neighbor on the other sides.

There’s no winning with that kind of infestation. I can’t tell you how many mice I trapped. They were honestly probably breeding faster than they were dying though. I felt like I was in Willard or some sh*t. I had tons of sh*t destroyed. Electronics chewed through, clothes f*cked up, and no longer could bring girls over like I would before his arrival.

I loved that apartment. It wasn’t super nice, the landlords were total sh*t, and it was small.

But like I was 19. It was quiet, all the other neighbors were cool, it was incredibly cheap, and the landlords literally never bugged you. I spent 8 months dealing with that piece of sh*t, all because I was essentially stuck.

I was going to school and had paid for a second year’s lease right before he moved in entirely upfront. I did so cause I was young and didn’t know how bad of an idea it would turn out to be.

I just had the money, and in doing so, I only paid $4,800 for the entire year, which worked out to $400 a month instead of $500 a month.

It wasn’t like I was gonna get a refund, so I stuck it out. I probably could have found a way to get help somewhere getting the situation addressed, but I was young and busy. Plus nobody wants to listen to or respect a 19-year-old. The other neighbor left, and his apartment stayed empty.

Probably cause nobody wants to rent an apartment next to Jabba the Hutt’s stinky mouse factory.

F*ck that guy.” MistakesTurnedAround

4. They Thought They Could Steal From Storage

“My dad had a tenant about a year ago that he had been dealing with for months. She had her son and a few other people living with her, which was technically not allowed, but my dad was being pretty lenient.
One day, he walks into the apartment to talk with her about it and finds a hole in their living room floor right above the storage in the basement.

Turns out, they had been stealing from the other tenants who kept their stuff locked up down there. The woman tried to blame the hole on her extremely obese son falling through the floor, even though it was obviously cut.

My dad obviously attempts to evict her at this point and goes through all the legal channels. But here’s the kicker- this crazy lady has the audacity to call the local news and tell them that my dad and grandpa were trying to evict them because her son was obese.

For privacy’s sake, I’m not going to mention the name of the news channel, but they took the story and ran with it. My dad was surprised by a news crew as he was walking into the building, and the first thing they asked him was, ‘Why are you evicting your tenant because he’s fat?’ He ended up looking like a fool on the local news.

I don’t know exactly how the legal proceedings went, but the news channel ended up raising a bunch of money to send this guy to a medical weight loss program for free.

He never showed up, and I haven’t heard about him since.” JealousyGrey

3. I Had To Deal With Her “Clients”

“I never noticed it when she moved in. Maybe because I never saw a truckload of furniture being brought into her apartment or anything like that. I met her one random day when she was pulling up in her red Toyota Camry. She was wearing heels, a very revealing top, and a short skirt. Her hair was short and curly, and her hips swayed as she walked into her apartment without even taking a glance at us.

I looked at my husband and his mouth was halfway down to the floor. I am not the jealous type and I was in awe too, so I just closed his big mouth and moved on.

A few hours later that day, when the sun had gone down and the stars (or city lights) began to shine, we heard a knock on our door. Like always, I made my husband open and see who it was. It was a chunky male saying he was here for Tatiana.

My husband looked confused, told him there was no Tatiana here, and asked if he had the right apartment number. Turns out he was looking for little miss curly-haired next door.

We thought nothing of it until the next night when 2 guys at separate times knocked on our door looking for the same Tatiana.

I wondered why so many different men were always looking for Tatiana.
This went on for a few days. Annoying knocks would disrupt our sleep, would make us pause our show, would make us shut up so they would think no one was home, and would make me scared.

We became worried because we had a baby and we never knew if these men were going to do anything else or why this kept happening.

I finally went to the leasing office and the young leasing lady who I got along with very well, showed me an ad they had found online of very sexy Tatiana posed in very provocative ways on a lonely sofa sitting in a living room that looked very familiar to our apartment homes.

Her ad stated what services she offered, the prices and address but no apartment number.

I gasped.

Finally, I realized why I never saw her move in furniture, all she needed was that sofa and the floor I guess, or maybe she had a mattress in her bedroom.

My neighbor was a prostitute and her clients were the ones knocking on my door. D*mn you, Tatiana.” Suly M. Rivera

2. They Killed A Rooster Inside Their Home

“So we were renting out this extra house we own in the Houston, TX area.

We got these new tenants who seemed nice enough and pretty normal, so we were happy. They had a two-year, no pets, a family of four lease on the place. Things seemed to be going well, but then we got a call from the neighbors.

‘We seem to be hearing a…uh, a rooster calling from next door.’

So, since we had known the neighbors for a while, and we lived pretty far away from the property, we asked them to try to talk to the tenants and report back with the 411 on the ornithological situation.

The next day, we get another call from the neighbors.
‘They said the rooster is no longer a problem because they killed it…’

So, of course, by now we’re freaking the f*ck out. Who KILLS A CHICKEN IN A D*MN RENTAL HOUSE?! So we call the tenant, and we tell them we will be making a surprise check-in visit the next day to see how the house is doing. They seem responsive and normal as ever. We start to doubt that there ever was any real trouble.

Maybe the neighbor was just hearing things. Maybe they said they killed it out of sarcasm or for some weird joke. Maybe there never was a rooster at all…
But then we got to the property the next day.

The front yard was strewn with debris from what appeared to be a mass exodus late that night.

The door was unlocked. The house was gutted. The fridge, all the furniture, and anything that wasn’t bolted down (and some things that were) were totally gone.

It was clear that MUCH more than a ‘four-person family with no pets’ had been living there. The carpet used to be light orange/yellow. In the six months they had lived there, it had become a spotty brown color. There were holes in the walls, stains everywhere and even trash piled in random corners and crevices. There was an ominous red ring around the tub in the disgusting bathroom.
In the garage, there was indeed a cage and bedding for some type of animal.

But where was the rooster?

We open the door to the back porch, and there’s BLOOD EVERYWHERE.

The amount of blood, coupled with some stray feathers and some rather creepy markings around Rooster Ground Zero tells us that they must have sacrificed it in some type of weird ritual and maybe other animals before it. Despite an extensive search, we never found the body. We assume they probably ate it.

So yeah, that happened.” Musicality

1. She Overdosed In My House

That’s… a scary surprise.

“When I was 18 (20 years ago), I was renting a house with two friends. We were all on welfare and addicts. My day consisted of waking up, scoring, making stuff all day and selling it during the day/night to support my addiction, which at this time was smoking.
One welfare night, back home it’s called Marti Gras, I had a get together at my place. Everyone there was young, dumb, and using.

My roommate was making a run for me and a few other people in the house.

I ordered some drugs and continued entertaining while I waited for it to arrive.

Bout an hour later, my roommate got back home with all our treats.

However, he wasn’t alone. He brought with him a woman in her 30s whom I’ve never seen before. Cute girl, clearly a party girl, but pretty boisterous.

When I was handed my stuff, I went right to preparing it and this girl, standing right next to me pulled her treats out of her purse and lined them up next to mine on the counter.

While I was getting mine ready, she was getting hers ready. She had her drug of choice at this point, and I wanted nothing to do with it.

I knew enough about downers to know what was too much and what was a normal amount.

She chased her stuff down with what I had. She took it like a champ, gave me a kiss on the cheek and went to the kitchen table and sat down.

The table was directly in front of my counter.

There were about 10 to 15 people in the kitchen at that time. By around midnight, everyone was lit up.

After a while, Porkchop (an old jail buddy) told me the girl was gagging.
She was gonna throw up.

The girl was sitting with her back to the table, with the back of the chair pressing against her chest and throat. I lifted her head up and could tell she was gurgling. So I took an empty pizza box that someone had handed me and placed in on the floor under her.

At this point, she was awake but clearly messed up. So was everyone else.

Shortly thereafter, half of the house went across the street to play some pool at the 24-hour pool joint.

I was with this group.

Two hours later, we left and started walking across the street.
At that time, we had seen the other half of the house party coming out and they were all going to the pool hall as well. My roommate, who was in the second group, told me the place was locked up.

I have to use the kitchen window to get in.

I was far too big to get up and through the window, so me and a couple other boosted Porkchop up.

He got through the window and I started to walk around the back of the house to the kitchen door to get let in.

The moment he opened the door, he said the girl was still in the kitchen.

We all went inside.

I checked on her right away. About half of those with me were girls other half were boys.

The girls all started making jokes about how she couldn’t handle her drugs, etc, etc. The boys all went about their business. Bathroom, video games, dope, the usual, while Porkchop and I continued to check on this woman.

After a few moments, it was clear that she was dead.

At the point, those in the house all started to panic. The girls started crying and getting hysterical the boys started jumping up and down yelling and being loud.

Now you all have to understand: this was a drug house.
There was all kinds of paraphernalia everywhere. I had around 50 pounds of drugs in the basement.

I’m talking 20 garbage-bags full.

So, I decided that we had to call 911 and we had to move her outside.

So we took her outside, laid her on the grass, and called 911. We told everyone to leave while my roommates and Porkchop and one girl stayed behind.

Now if you made it this far, this is where the crummiest thing I’ve ever done comes in.

I went inside the house and tried to clean up the best I could. I also grabbed her purse, ran her purse across the street, and put it in the dumpster.
But not before I went into her wallet and took out what she had left of her welfare money, for myself.

Additionally, we told the ambulance medics that we had found her outside like that.

We didn’t say we knew her or what she had taken anything. They told us it was the 23rd overdose call that night.

In a town of 70 thousand. This was typical.

Fast forward a couple of weeks. I get a banging on the door at 3:00 am. I open it up and the woman was standing in my doorway…with 5 Hells Angels.

The woman I carried outside. I felt her lungs empty when I put her over my shoulder.
She was standing in my doorway…asking to come in. I was in shock. Scared. Confused.

Then, she walked inside and told me she was the woman’s twin sister.

She came to see where her sister died.

I told her she died outside. She started getting hysterical, telling me I’m lying.

The full-patch Hells Angel very calmly told me that they knew she didn’t die outside. That I had one chance to tell the truth.

So I told them. In the kitchen. She did some drugs followed by another kind of drug, smoked some more, sat down and died. And no one did anything to help her.
After the sister cried and walked through my house for a bit, they all left, never to be heard from again.

But wait… it’s not over.

A couple of weeks after that, the cops show up at my door. My roommates and I were told we’re under investigation. They knew she died inside not outside based on the autopsy, time of death, temperature or something like that.

We were taken in to give a statement.

I told the truth. Nothing ever comes of it. They wanted charges but the crown didn’t bother pursuing. I panicked, took her outside, put her purse in the trash across the street, and took her money.

It bothers me to this day. The money, not taking her outside. She was gone.” Reddit user

Some neighbors can simply drive you cuckoo. Whether you’ve moved homes a dozen times or have lived in the same apartment complex for years, let’s be honest, awful neighbors are every which way, and it’s never easy.