Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - I Got Kidnapped by a Drunk Stranger at Six and Ended Up at a Police Station Alone PART2 #21

Episode Date: July 22, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales#truestoryhorror #childabduction #lostandafraid #traumarecovery #policestationterror  In this gripping continuation, the six-year-old is left at a police station—alone, scared, and without answers. Authorities try to piece together what happened, but the damage is already done. The child’s fear only intensifies amid unfamiliar faces and sterile walls. As attempts to reunite them with family unfold, more painful realizations surface. This chapter explores the long emotional tail of trauma, the helplessness of being voiceless, and the beginnings of scars that time won’t easily erase. Part 2 deepens the raw horror of being a victim too young to understand what survival even means.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales,lostchild, abductedsurvivor, traumakid, strangerdanger, aloneinpolicestation, childfear,realhorrorstory, abductionaftermath, survivaltrauma, childhoodnightmare, fearofadults,voiceoftheforgotten, rescueandfear, lifeturnedhorror, unspokenscarring, psychologicalwounds,helplessandafraid, reallifehorror, emotionalsurvival

I was 22 when the worst week of my life hit me like a damn truck. I lost my grandmother, my girlfriend cheated on me, and I got shipped off to war. All in seven days. I swear, I've had some pretty dark moments before, but nothing compares to that week. Just thinking about it now still leaves a pit in my stomach. Let me give you a bit of background first. My grandma caught COVID in February 22. She was 85.

Old, yeah, but she was tough. My mom and I took her to the hospital. She could barely walk. We stayed there with her until around 3 a.m., then finally went home. At that time, I was on vacation for my mandatory military service. Because of the COVID protocols, visits were restricted, and we weren't allowed to see her. That hit hard. I turned 22 on February 16th.

Instead of celebrating, I spent most of that time wondering how she was doing. Eventually, they moved her to another clinic. We tried to visit, but again, they blocked us. All we could do was write letters and send them through the nurses. On February 26th, it was my brother's birthday. That day I ran into June again. She'd be my girlfriend, kind of. We had history.

We'd known each other for a while. and even kissed once a year before, when she was a little drunk and still with her ex. We didn't go further than that, but it left some guilt in both of us. Still, we had feelings. Always had. She told me she was scared for me. Two days earlier, that special military operation had kicked off. Everyone was tense. June was freaking out, but I was calm for some reason. Maybe too calm. I told her I probably wouldn't be called in.

I'd had shoulder surgery a few months prior and was still in recovery. She cried, I held her, and we kissed through half the night. We almost took it further, but she pulled back last minute. I respected that. We just held each other and slept. Next morning, we agreed to give things a shot. That was a big deal for me. I hadn't been in a relationship for four years, not since a breakup that.

nearly broke me. I was cautious. But I was also tired of being alone. Two days later, my commander called. Just like that, they pulled me in, said I had to report. My vacation was ending anyway, so I asked for one more week to finish up rehab. I was speeding up the recovery process like crazy. I wasn't ready, physically or mentally, but didn't feel like I had a choice. When I asked if I could be discharged due to my medical issues, he said no. Said technically, I could refuse the operation, but I'd be considered a deserter. So really, there was no way out. I didn't tell June right away. I spent a day trying to make sense of things, trying to stay calm. I didn't want to freak her out until I had something concrete. When I finally called her,

I don't remember our exact conversation. Just that I was trying to sound okay, and she was definitely not. March rolled in. I went to my unit to talk to the commander face to face. No luck. He gave me until March 9th to get my affairs in order. I messaged June and we planned a date the next day. I had a lot to tell her. Before meeting up, I went to the doctor to check on my shoulder. It was doing okay. As I was heading to the metro to meet her, my mom called. She asked about the appointment, and I told her the rehab was going well. Then she dropped the bomb, something had happened to Grandma. I asked if she was getting worse. Mom is dead, she said. I stood there in the middle of the street, frozen. I asked if my brother was with her. He was. Our parents divorced when I was

6. My brother lived with mom, I stayed with dad during that vacation. I told them to stay together and that I'd come by later. My brother had tried to kill himself three times, he shouldn't be alone. Mom either. On the train ride to meet June, I stared at my reflection in the window. At one point, I punched the glass. It cracked, but didn't shatter. Probably a metaphor for how I was feeling. I met June at the station. We hugged and took the escalator up. It was our first time seeing each other since my brother's party. I told her I had bad news and tried to smile. I told her about the army stuff first. I couldn't stop it, I said. I have to report next Wednesday. We were holding hands. I honestly didn't know if I was holding hers or if she was holding mine.

Then I said something even harder, that's not the worst of it. My grandma died. Her eyes widened. When? About an hour ago. Mom called me 15 minutes ago. I managed to pull myself together after a minute. We went to her favorite cafe and just sat there for a couple of hours.

She told me it was unfair that I was the one always supporting her, and now I needed help. I told her I was strong enough and that she needed me more. Truth is, I was just saying what she needed to hear. I was barely holding on. She kissed me after I asked her to. I noticed she wasn't as into me as I was into her, but I didn't care. I was starving for affection. I needed warmth, any warmth.

That night, I stayed with my mom. We said our goodbyes to Grandma on Monday. I asked June to be with me afterward. At the funeral, it was me, my brother, mom, dad, and dad's cousin. I'm not religious, but everyone else in my family is. Grandma was two. So I stood there in church, holding a candle, listening to the burial service. The wax was dripping on my hand and burning me, but I didn't move.

Tradition says family shouldn't carry the coffin. Screw tradition. I carried it. it myself. I wasn't going to let a stranger do it. We loaded it into the car. Mom was going to have her cremated. I asked them to open the coffin. COVID rules said no, but we begged. Eventually, they let us. I was the last to say goodbye. Grandma looked like she was sleeping. I touched her face. Cold. She was really gone. I kissed her forehead and walked away, tears streaming down my face. I stumbled down a snowy hill to the stream,

stripped off my jacket and shirt, and dunked my head in the freezing water. I needed to feel something real. Then I got dressed and went back to the family. I asked Dad to go stay at Grandma's place. I love him, he's smart, strong, and he's always been there, but he's not the guy you mourn with. Waiting for June to come over, I made dinner. When she arrived, the first thing I noticed was a hickie on her neck. My brain was already fried, so I didn't say anything. Didn't even let myself think about it. We ate. I barely remember the conversation. Then she said it, I saw him yesterday. We were just talking. Then I stayed the night. No guilt in her voice. No apology. Technically, she didn't owe me one.

we weren't officially a couple. But it still felt like getting stabbed. Hard. I was too numb to react. No yelling, no crying. Just silence. I nodded. We talked a bit about Grandma.

She held my hand. And then, I asked her, God knows why, if she could kiss me. I guess I was just desperate to feel wanted. She said she could, but didn't want to. Good. Then don't, I replied. She stayed the night, but I slept in the other room. I felt like nothing. Just hollow. In the morning, she came out and I pointed to the shower. Then pointed up. She asked what I meant. You shower first, I mumbled. Speaking was hard. We had breakfast. We hugged. Then she left.

didn't end up sending me to the front until summer 2022. My medical stuff bought me time. A year later, I saw June again. She came to my brother's party. I was fresh out of the hospital on vacation. She walked in. I said hi. We hugged.

Then I left. Yeah, that's how I know it still hurts. The end.