Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - From Diaper Duty to Handcuffs A Watts Family Story of Chaos, Fear, and Loyalty #54

Episode Date: August 5, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #familychaos #truecrimefamily #fearandloyalty #wattsstory #familydrama  In this emotional and intense tale, a member of the Watts family recounts a surreal journey from the mundane duties of parenting to the unimaginable—being caught in the middle of criminal chaos. As handcuffs click and loyalty is tested, the story dives into themes of survival, fear, and how quickly trust can shatter in the face of betrayal. It’s messy, it’s raw, and it’s disturbingly real.   horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, familychaos, truecrime, parentinghorrors, betrayal, fearandloyalty, domesticdrama, emotionaltrauma, survivalstory, trustissues, realhorror, criminalfamily, householdterror, familybreakdown, psychologicaldrama

There's so much rugby on Sports Exter 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 been 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. Jampact 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 the terms apply. On the many days of Christmas, the Guinness Storehouse brings to thee.

A visit filled with festivity. Experience a story of Ireland's most iconic beer in a stunning Christmas setting at the Guinness Storehouse. Enjoy seven floors of interactive exhibitions and finish your visit with breathtaking views of Dublin City from the home of Guinness. Live entertainment, great memories and the gravity bar. My goodness, it's Christmas at the Guinness Storehouse. Book now at Guinness Storehouse.com. Get the facts. Be Drinkaware. Visit drinkaware.com.

I come from a wild, loud, loving family of four boys. There's a 16-year age gap between the oldest and the youngest, and I sit second in line. Yeah, son number two. That meant I was the unofficial middle manager of chaos growing up. Our family wasn't rich. In fact, we were far from it. We grew up in Watts, a neighborhood in Los Angeles that's infamous for a lot of reasons, most of them not too pretty.

Think 1965 riots, poverty, and concrete playgrounds. But also think tight-knit communities, sole food cookouts, backyard dominoes, and front porch wisdom. You might have heard about what's an old TV shows like Sanford and Sun or what's happening. Or maybe even the white shadow. That gritty, real, inner city vibe. That was our reality. It was hard, but we made it work because my parents were. were solid, like rock solid. My mom was this tiny powerhouse of a woman who could stop us in

our tracks with just a look. And my dad, quiet, stern, and strong. They kept us grounded in a place where it was easy to drift off the rails. Despite the madness, we all came out all right. Today, all four of us are grown with families of our own. We look back and laugh at a lot of stuff that probably should have broken us. This story is one of those things. A few years back, all of us were chilling at my mom's house on a Saturday night. No holiday, no birthday, just a good old hangout. Her house was always home base. The grandkids were running around, the women were in the kitchen talking loud and fast, and the guys were out back, drinking, barbecuing, and trash talking. My youngest brother was still in high school back then.

Because of the big age difference, he didn't just grow up with parents, he had three extra grown-ass men watching his every move. Poor kid! He couldn't get away with anything. So it's around 9 p.m., and I'm in my parents' bedroom changing my son's diaper. Out the window, I hear my youngest brother saying he's heading to a friend's house just one block over. I remember glancing at the clock. A few minutes later, pop.

Pop. Pop. Gunshots. I froze. In Watts, you know gunshots. And these were close. My stomach dropped. I rushed out into the living room and yelled,

Where's my little brother? My heart was pounding. Before anyone could answer, me and brother number three bolted out the front door. My car was parked right in front, and we jumped in like we were responding to a damn emergency. Because we were. We peeled off toward the direction of the shots. The street lights cast long shadows and I noticed helicopters already overhead.

Their lights swept across our car like we were suspects. But we weren't stopping. My little brother was out there. That was the only thing on my mind. We pulled up in front of the friend's house. Jumped out. banged on the door. Where is he?

He comes out, safe. Alive. Thank God. I didn't even say anything to him. Just, let's go. We turned to head back to the car. That's when it happened. Suddenly we're face to face with a wall of cops.

Guns drawn. Lights blinding. Shouting. Chaos. Apparently, they thought we were the shooting. Now look, I know the right move is to stay calm. Hands up. Comply. But brother number three ain't exactly built like that. He's got fire in him. No chill. And this night, he was burning hot. Instead of raising his hands, he started yelling back, telling them we weren't

involved. Cussing. Standing his ground. One cop barked, I will shoot you in the face. My brother shouted back, do it then, percent hashtag Karadat. I was stuck in between trying to calm him down and trying not to get shot myself. The youngest, still kind of shell-shocked, was quiet. But brother number three, oh no. He was going full-on Rambo with words. That man does not know how to dial it down. Eventually, they got us on the curb. Flashing lights. Crowd gathering I was praying no one sneezed wrong because the tension was thick.

Brother number three In handcuffs, in the back of a squad car already trying to kick out the window. Now, brother... There's so much rugby on Sports Exter 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 played every Champions Cup match exclusively live, plus action from the URC, the Challenge Cup and much more. Thus the U.S.C 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 the terms apply. On the many days of Christmas, the Guinness Storehouse brings to

the visit filled with festivity. Experience a story of Ireland's most iconic beer in a stunning Christmas setting at the Guinness Storehouse. Enjoy seven floors of interactive exhibitions and finish your visit with Brett taken views of Dublin City from the home of Guinness. Live entertainment, great memories and the gravity bar. My goodness is Christmas at the Guinness Storehouse. Book now at ginnestorehouse.com. Get the facts, be drinkaware. Visit drinkaware.com.

Number one, our oldest, had followed us on foot. We didn't even know. He rolls up a few minutes after the scene erupts. And guess what? He sees brother number three locked up, lights flashing. cops everywhere. So he does what older brothers do best, loses his damn mind. He starts yelling too. Threatening cops. Pointing fingers. The whole nine. The cops clock him in the crowd and arrest him too. He didn't resist, but his mouth didn't stop running. I'm sitting on the curb like,

how the hell did we go from changing diapers to this? And then the wildest part of the night happens. the officer is walking brother number one to the car in cuffs, something goes down. My brother, already in cuffs, twists just enough to throw both himself and the officer over a four-foot chain link fence. I'm not kidding. They straight up flipped over it. Mid-argument. Surreal doesn't even begin to describe it. I jumped to my feet. For a split second, I was about to rush over. But then it hit me, I don't want to get shot today. So I kind of half-heartedly yelled, stop. Stop. You know, just enough to look concerned, but not enough to get bullets in my chest. Meanwhile, Brother Number 3 is going feral in the cop car, still trying to break out like the Hulk.

Brother number one is wrestling a cop while handcuffed. And I'm just trying to breathe. Now, after a struggle, they finally get Brother number one under control. He's on the ground, and that's when it gets scary. One of the officers plants his knee in my brother's back and just stays there, grinding into him. Brother number one starts yelling that he can't breathe. This was way before George Floyd, but it was the same vibe. Real panic. People watching.

A crowd gathering. And my brother is gasping. His wife, who had shown up somewhere in the chaos, start screaming. She's losing her mind. Brother number three's long-time girlfriend is there too. She knows the deal. Sees what's coming in bolts. Smart girl.

She ran and no one chased her. But brother number one's wife stayed. Screaming, crying, cussing. And yupp, they arrested her too. Eventually, they let me and the youngest go. We hadn't done anything but exist. The other three hauled off to jail. The next day, they came home looking like war survivors.

Clothes wrinkled. Faces worn. Eyes bloodshot. I think they walked back. No one really said much at first. I cracked a dumb joke and somehow we all started laughing. And that's how it is with us. We turn trauma into comedy.

Every time we hang out now, someone brings up the great arrest night. The story gets bigger, funnier, louder. Sometimes I swear brother number one adds an extra flip over the fence. Brother number three says he kicked the squad car door off the hinges. Lies. But good ones. It's just another what story? one of many

we all got scars from where we came from but we also got memories laughter and each other the end but really it never ends Thank you.