Disclaimer: I in no way vouch for the authenticity of any of these stories. If people's lives are so dull that they want to lie about these things, I can't really stop them... but feel free to call them on it either on the forum or drop me a line and I'll post the comment here or on the mailing list.
In other words, please don't lie... or you'll probably be exposed in the end and won't you feel stupid then???

"My Brush With Morbidity" by Alicia

"I was sixteen, had just gotten out of my sophomore year of high school, and was starting a summer job where I lived in Florida. All my life my mother has been into antiquities, and and usually frequents various auction houses. That summer I was to work for some friends of hers, who lived in an old theatre in Port St. Joe, Florida, and held auctions on the weekend. I was to write tickets when the wife needed a break, and clean up and serve beverages to people, and later help them pack their treasures to leave. As you might guess, for a high school student on summer break, it wasn't much for me to do, so I took frequent breaks, and went about the town by bike or foot.

"It was a relatively small town, and after a while I met many of the locals. Most were very courteous, old timey even. But there was a group of kids, most around my age, that were destructive in every sense of the word; vandalism was one of their most common pranks. One of them, a boy a year younger than me, stuck out more than the rest because he was somewhat different, and befriended me quickly. I think the only reason he hung out with that group of kids, was because he had no else to hang out with.

"These teenagers used to get drunk, and rowdy, and go from parking lot to parking lot playing their music, skating, and pushing each other around in buggies. Sometimes they would walk in a large group, and sometimes they would pile into a couple of vehicles and take off. I never did hang out with the full horde of them, but that one guy would come around looking for me on my breaks during the days that I worked. He told me a little about these kids and why he hung out with them. He said that because the town was so small and there wasn't much to do, they mostly went looking for trouble, hoping to find it out of boredom.

"The leader of this group was his older cousin, whom I learned was always full of bad intentions. On a regular basis the small group, especially the so-called leader, tried to get me to join their little gang. They would call me chicken and make harassing noises, and often tried to scare me, and sometimes would chase me down the sidewalk. My one friend in the group stopped them many times, seeming to have a big effect on them since he was the cousin of you know who. Well, his efforts didn't stop them for long, but after a while they did seem to grow bored with the games, and let me alone besides. The boy and I became considerably close, and toward the end of summer I would meet him on a regular basis, just to talk, and flirt, and catch up from the week before. Mind you, I did not live in this town.

"One day we were sitting on a bench outside the theatre talking, and when we looked up we saw the group coming out of the bar across the street in front of us. As they angrily stalked out they were followed by the 'only' 2 cops in town. The cops were screaming at these kids about something, obviously making them leave the establishment for some reason or another. The kids split up into three groups; two of the groups jumped into one of two cars and raced up the mainstreet a ways and sped just about as fast as traffic would let them, attracting the two cops; while the rest, including the leader, donned sunglasses and hats and prepared to re-enter the establishment they were just booted out of. The leader pulled a gun, a pistol I think, and then robbed the little old man that ran the place.

"As they came running out, my friend, formerly a part of the alliance, decided once and for all he would put an end to the chaos they were causing. That afternoon, being the little narc that he was, my friend went to the police and positively identified the three boys who held up the bar, while the cops were in pursuit. Well, I heard that the boys were held over a period of a couple days in county jail, fined, and released. However, the leader would be bonded out, and had to stand some kind of trial before he was put back in jail, or juvey, I'm not sure which, for the gun charge he caught. This information I learned the next week of work after the robbery.

"I was a little upset that my friend would get involved with those people again, and so when he came to see me that next day of work, I almost avoided him and ran inside. Instead I just sat on the bench we had shared during the robbery and waited for him to cross the last two side streets between us. When he got about half way, encountering absolutely no traffic as usual, he decided to sprint the rest of the way to me. I watched as he leapt from the sidewalk directly across from me, down to the paved road, and started at a slow run. Meanwhile this is all coming in slow motion for me... the sound of a horn, an acceleration, I turned my head but a moment before my view came, with the sight of the front bumper of a car, right back to my friend standing in the middle of the road. BOOM!!! Busted glass, and screeching brakes and wheels... and then the car stopped, and out stepped the conveniently possessed leader of the pack... laughing with disdain, and calling out 'I told you not to f**k with me a**hole!!' Then he took off running away, along with another guy that was in the car with him. My mind finally backtracked, and I slowly started to realize what had happend. My friend had just gotten hit by a car, and not just any car: his cousin's car. I jumped up without thinking, and almost getting run over myself, ran to the middle the street, where lay a 15 year old boy, crumpled over sideways, unnaturally, to say the least. He had slid a couple yards or so, and retained bloody scrapes up and down his body in random spots that also bore slightly peeled back flesh. I turned him over just as he started to attempt moving, and hearing his inconsistent breathing started I screaming 'Call 911, he's not breathing right! Somebody Please!' At this point people were in shop windows, on the sidewalk next to us, and milling around the road where the accident took place, looking as if dumb founded. It seemed to almost as if time stood still, and captured me, and almost everyone else. Someone had chased after the two boys that were in the car, and had one on the ground restrained, and the other was being thrown about because he was resisting. I stared in wonder. He had not achieved his goal of stopping this chaos, my friend I mean, and for a moment the scenery held me. All of a sudden I heard what I can only assume, and fully believe, was my name followed by a gurgle, and I looked down to the boy's head in my lap. He took one more deep breath before I heard the siren, and tried to speak, but blood took the place of his words, and his muscles went slack. He died in my arms of all places, and for what?"

I could swear I've seen this movie before but I can't quite place it.

Posted 08.26.09

"My Brush With Morbidity" by Sade

"My grandfather passed away in 2003, but we can't really classify it as 'passing away'. One evening that year we got a frantic call from my grandma that my grandfather had fallen and needed to be rushed to the hospital. We hurried to my grandparents house and as soon as we pulled up we knew something bad happened. The sidewalk into the doorway of the house was full of droplets of blood, and when we went inside there was even more blood. They had all tile floors and there was a blood trail leading us to his room. They had already taken him in the ambulance by this time. Inside his room it was like a horror film. My aunt was mopping up the blood but that honestly wasn't helping. There was blood on the ceiling, blood on the walls, blood on the furniture and even the tv which was very far from his bed where it happened. The floor looked as if someone had poured buckets and buckets - well you get it. In the end my grandmother had to throw away everything in the room, including both the box spring and mattress.

"The cops came later on to investigate the scene because it didn't appear as if someone had just fallen and hit their head. You're probably wondering what happened... Well we found out later that while he was resting something busted in his stomach which the doctors believe was a aneurysm. My grandmother said that blood just came gushing out of his mouth and nose everywhere. He must have freaked out (understandably) and jolted up maybe to find a way to stop it. He slipped on the blood that he had already sprayed on the flood and fell, hitting his head on the sharp corner of his end table which took a chunk of meat out of his forehead.

"The most ironic part of it was he died two days after my grandmothers birthday. Also, he was a very violent man; he was abusive and had even put a gun up to his son's head, pulled the trigger but it jammed. Maybe it was karma's way of saying happy birthday to my grandma.

"P.S. His death certificate says Cause Of Death was Cancer.
Does that sound like cancer to you?"

I think it could definitely be some sort of damned dramatic stomach cancer. Talk about leaving a mark when you go!

Posted 08.01.09

"My Brush With Morbidity" by Kelle

“I was a sophomore at college, and had been suffering from severe depression, bipolar, anorexia and self mutilation for years; they all seemed to be treatment resistant. I was at a good friend’s dorm when we started to snort crushed Adderall, and qualudes. The effects started immediately. I became extremely talkative and hyperactive. I confessed to him that when I had attempted suicide that spring the night before I was drugged and raped by a friend who lived on my floor and his friend from home. I began confessing numerous travesties that had occurred to me. While sitting in his dorm, I started to feel really funny. My heart was beating so fast I thought it would explode, my skin became cold and clammy and I began slipping in and out of consciousness. My breathing was rapid and shallow, I began to panic. He knew what was going on and took me to the bathroom, forcing me to vomit, but nothing came up. I began telling him, ‘It’s alright; I know I’m going to die and I’m not afraid.’ I kissed his cheek and simply asked that he hold me until the end. As shaky and cold as I was, I felt warm inside and peaceful. Sounds faded from my ears, everything was becoming really quiet, despite a slight vibrating in my ears. His roommate, who happened to be an EMT came home and saw me. I blacked out, and he performed CPR on me and got my heart beating again. They took me to the hospital, where it was confirmed I had overdosed and they were surprised I was still alive. I survived and no one but the three of us ever spoke of it again. I know it isn’t as morbid as the rest but that day I almost became someone else’s morbid story.”

Posted 07.24.09

"My Brush With Morbidity" by at245am

"My Red Scare"

“Well, during the end of my freshmen year in high school, I never really hung out with anyone after school. I was always more concerned with getting home to get my work done so I could relax. On June 6, 2006, I decided I’d hang out with this kid I knew and some friends, mostly because I had a final the next day, so I had no work to be done. So, we headed from school to his house, and then to the park. He was riding a skateboard, the rest of us just walked.

“A conflict started to erupt. My friend Eric threw my friend Chris’ hat into a sprinkler. Chris, attempting to get revenge, threw Eric’s skateboard towards the sprinkler. I was standing by the sprinkler, and I heard someone yell ‘watch out!’. I started to look up, but I didn’t even get to look all the way up. The skateboard hit me right on top of the head, towards the front left, about a thumb’s length above my left eyebrow, in my hair. I stumbled, but I was okay… I just thought it was a nasty knock. I jumped a handrail and asked them if I was bleeding or anything, and I looked down so they could see. I’ll neve forget what I saw next. As I looked down so that they could see, a large amount of blood fell from my head, splashing on the black playground mats and forming nice, small puddles. I thought I was gong to die. I was standing…my brother almost passed out in panic, my friend grabbed my bloody phone out of my pocket, screamed to my mom, and my friend Eric tried to console my brother as Chris called 911. They told me to sit down and put pressure on it, so I had to sit amongst the puddles of my own blood with my school shirt on my head. I had blood all over my face and hair, in my mouth, just all over the place. I was totally calm…I felt more peaceful than ever, but I assume that was shock. Soon enough, a crowd formed, and this lady said to me ‘Are you okay? You look pale!’ No, I regularly bleed out of the top of my skull… Thanks….

“So, the ambulance came, I was put on a flatboard and a stretcher, given oxygen. taken to the hospital (by this point my head was throbbing) and there I received two shots of anethesia in my bruised and bleeding head. Then came 6 stitches, soon followed by 7, count ‘em, SEVEN, staples. Now, into a bruised and bleeding head, already tortured by 2 needles and 6 stitches….staples HURT. But, they then sent me to clean up, and I was almost shocked to see just how much blood I was covered in.

“So, I went home, and that night Chris called me to apologize…I forgave him and such. But he still refers to it…although in a more humorous manner, but I can tell that it’s affected him. They all told me that it’s one of the most haunting things they’d seen. My friend Eric went home, and was pale and shaking. His father ended up calling me and asking me if I was okay and if there was anything he could do.

“It was most definitely a morbid experience.

“Even worse, I couldn’t wash my hair for a week, until the wound closed. Therefore, I was stuck with matted hair, covered in dried blood for a week. Not a good time. I went to get the staples removed, and the doctor who was supposed to do it was about 6'6? and 300 pounds. His fingers were too big to handle it the tweezers. I was scared, needless to say.

“Thankfully, the young nurse interjected, and, despite the fact that she was shaking, nervous about hurting me, I will always be grateful for that. She actually did really good too, so it worked out well.”

Posted 04.25.09