Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - A Downward Spiral From a Broken Controller to a Life Shattered by Violence and Loss #49

Episode Date: August 15, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #mentalhealth #trauma #domesticviolence #addiction #survivorstories  This story follows a person’s harrowing descent into chaos after a minor trigger shatters their life, leading to cycles of violence, addiction, and emotional devastation. It highlights the fragile line between everyday frustrations and life-altering trauma, showing the painful impact on the individual and their loved ones.  #horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #scarystories #horrorstory #creepypasta #horrortales #mentalhealthawareness #traumarecovery #domesticabuse #addictionrecovery #survivorstory #emotionaltrauma #depression #brokenlife #personalstruggles #darkstories #reallifehorror #painandloss #humanresilience #rawemotions

There's so much rugby on Sports Extra from Sky. They've asked me to read the whole lad at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end. Here goes. This winter Sports Extra is jam-packed with rugby. For the first time, we've got every Champions Cup match exclusively live, plus action from the URC, the Challenge Cup, and much more. Thus the URC and all the best European rugby all in the same place.

Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on Sports Extra. Jampack with rugby. Phew, that is a lot of rugby. Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months. Search Sports Extra. New Sports Extra customers only. Standard Pressing applies after 12 months for their terms apply. Have you recently purchased a new vehicle from Frankine Volkswagen?

If so, you may be at risk for an exciting condition known as new car joy. Symptoms may include spontaneous smiling, sudden increases in confidence and uncontrollable urges to take the scenic route. If you experience any of these symptoms, don't worry. The only known treatment is enjoying your new vehicle. Side effects may also include great value and exceptional customer service. Talk to a friendly professional at Frankine Volkswagen today and see if upgrading your car is the right prescription for a year. You know, when I think back to that day, I wish I could just hit rewind and stop myself. But I can't.

It's like this movie in my head that keeps replaying no matter how much I want to smash the damn VHS. I was only 15, but man, I thought I knew everything back then. Thought I was untouchable. It all started on some random Saturday afternoon. I'd gone over to my boys' house a couple streets down to chill, maybe play some games, watch dumb videos on his old desktop, and pig out on whatever snacks his mom left lying around. That house always smelled like brownies and lemon cleaner. Felt like heaven compared to mine.

Anyway, I'm there for a few hours, and the whole time I'm thinking about getting back home to finish this level I've been grinding on my PlayStation. I was obsessed with that thing. Like, it wasn't just a console, it was my thing, my escape from all the bullshit of school and home. But when I walked back into my house, I instantly felt like something was off. It was too quiet. Mom and Dad were working late, like always, but there was this weird vibe in the air, and I didn't know why. So, I head up to my room, pushing open the door with one hand while trying to untangle my headphones with the other, and there it was. My controller.

Sitting in the middle of my bedroom floor. Broken. Like, not just a little crack. or scratched up from a fall, this thing looked like someone had taken a hammer to it and smashed it into two uneven pieces. Wires sticking out like guts. I froze for a second. Staring. Trying to make sense of it. Then it hit me, and all the blood in my body boiled. What the fuck? I yelled so loud I swear the house shook. A second later, my little brother popped his head out of his room down the hall. He looked like a deer caught in headlights. Big, round eyes, mouth half open like he'd been caught mid-chew.

Wait, wait, listen. I can explain, he stammered, voice-cracking like glass. But I wasn't trying to hear it. Explain what? That you're a dumb little shit who doesn't know how to respect other people's stuff. I didn't mean to. I just, I was playing and, shut up. I cut him off, marching down the hallway like a seeing red. I shoved him out of my way so hard he stumbled back into the wall, his skinny little arms flailing. My mind wasn't even working at that point, I was just pure anger. I stormed into his room and scanned it, looking for something, anything, to hit him where it hurt. And then I saw it. His hamster. That stupid little fur ball he loved more than life itself. It was sitting in its cage, twitching its nose, nibbling on a wood chip like it didn't have a care in the world.

Perfect. I yanked open the cage, grabbed the hamster in my fist, and walked straight to the bathroom. No. No. Stop. What are you doing? My brother screamed behind me, pounding on my back with his tiny fists as I shut the bathroom door and locked it. Don't do it. Please. I'm sorry, he wailed, his hands slapping a little bit of it.

against the door like gunfire. But I didn't care. My heart was pounding, my hands shaking, not from guilt but from adrenaline. I held the hamster over the toilet, staring at it for a moment. It squirmed in my grip, its tiny feet kicking uselessly against my fingers. And then, without another thought, I dropped it in the water. No. Oh, my brother shrieked as I flushed. The sound of the toilet roaring filled the small room. I stepped out, my brother was crying so hard his face was blotchy and wet. He tried to swing at me, but I grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him against the wall. Don't ever fuck with my shit again, I growled, my face inches from his.

And you better not say one word to mom or dad, or I swear to God you'll regret it. He sniffled, his lip quivering. I'm going to tell them, I saw red. You little bastard, I hissed, and before I knew it, my fist shot out and punched him in the gut. He doubled over, wheezing, and I dragged him by his arm into the living room. Get down, I snarled, pushing him to the floor. Please, stop, he begged, but I wasn't listening. I yanked his shorts down and ripped off my leather belt. The first crack of it against his skin made him scream, but I kept going. Again and again. My own arm was sore from the force, but I just, didn't stop until my anger felt slightly less explosive. But then, in this twisted moment of power,

I did something I still can't explain. I flipped him over onto his stomach, grabbed the TV remote lying nearby, and shoved it deep into his rectum. There's so much rugby on Sports Exeter from Sky, they've asked me to read the whole lad at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end. Here goes. This winter sports extra is jam-packed with rugby. For the first time, we've met every Champions Cup match exclusively live, plus action from the URC, the Challenge Cup, and much more. see and all the best European rugby all in the same place. Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on Sports Extra. Jam packed with rugby.

Phew, that is a lot of rugby. Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months. Search Sports Extra. New Sports Extra customers only. Standard Pressing applies after 12 months, further terms apply. Have you recently purchased a new vehicle from Franken, Volkswagen? If so, you may be at risk for an exciting condition known as new car joy. Symptoms may include spontaneous smiling, sudden increases in confidence,

and uncontrollable urges to take the same. scenic route. If you experience any of these symptoms, don't worry. The only known treatment is enjoying your new vehicle. Side effects may also include great value and exceptional customer service. Talk to a friendly professional at Frank Heen Volkswagen today and see if upgrading your car is the right prescription for you. He screamed so loud my ears rang. Shut up, I snarled, leaning over him. If you tell them, I'll do worse than this. You got it. He sobbed, nodding frantically. I pulled the remote out and threw it to the floor. Go to your room.

Stay there. It was only 5 p.m. Mom and Dad weren't due home until 9. I went back to my room and turned on the TV like nothing happened. But I could hear him. Crying. Non-stop. After a while, I couldn't take it anymore. I stormed into his room.

Shut the fuck up. I yelled. I hate you, he screamed, tears streaming down his face. I'm telling them. I don't care what you do, I'm telling them, you better not, you little shit. I barked. But then he bolted. He ran past me, heading for the stairs.

Get back here. I shouted, lunging after him. Just as he reached the top step, I shoved him. Time slowed down. I watched him tumble forward. arms flailing. His head slammed into the wall at the bottom with a sickening crack. And then silence. Shit, I whispered, my heart stopping. I ran downstairs and dropped to my knees beside him.

Hey, wake up. Come on, wake up. I shook him, but his neck hung at an impossible angle. His eyes were glassy, empty. He was dead. I panicked. My brain went into overdrive. Okay, okay, just say he fell. Yeah. He fell. That's all. I called 911, my voice shaky but calm enough.

When the ambulance arrived, they checked his pulse and confirmed what I already knew. My brother was gone. By the time my parents got home, the paramedics were wheeling his body out in a black bag. Mom screamed. Dad shouted. They both fell apart right there on the porch. What happened? Mom sobbed, grabbing my shoulders.

I, I heard a noise, I stammered. I found him at the bottom of the stairs. He must have fallen. They believed me. But after that, nothing was ever the same. Mom blamed Dad. Said if he hadn't been working so much, maybe he'd have been home to stop it. Dad blamed her right back.

The arguments got worse until one day Mom packed her bags and left. I never saw her again. I stayed with Dad for about six months. He tried to hold it together, but he couldn't. One night, I found him in the garage. He'd hung himself from the rafters. After that, I was sent to live with my uncle. That's when things went from bad to hell.

He'd force me into the shower with him, do unspeakable things to me, and then hand me a needle full of heroin. This'll help you forget, he'd say with a twisted grin. I didn't want to remember, so I took it. At 17, I finally ran away. I lived on the streets for months, hungry, cold, strung out, until a local gang took me in. They gave me food, a place to sleep, in exchange for selling their drugs. I didn't care.

I needed money for my next fix. Now I'm 19. Still out here hustling, still selling for those same dealers. And I'm dating a 34-year-old prostitute. Yeah. That's my life now. The end.