Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Trapped by Blood Surviving a Home Where Love Means Pain and Silence Is My Only Shield #65

Episode Date: July 28, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales  #domestichorror #familytrauma #survivorstory #toxicfamily #silentpain  “Trapped by Blood: Surviving a Home Where Love Means Pain and Silence Is My Only Shield”A chilling true story of enduring abuse and silence within the walls meant to protect. This harrowing tale explores the brutal reality of a toxic home where love is twisted into pain, and silence becomes the only defense. Battling fear, loneliness, and despair, the narrator’s fight for survival paints a raw picture of strength in the face of unthinkable darkness.A haunting exploration of family, trauma, and the resilience of the human spirit.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales,  domestichorror, familytrauma, survivalstory, toxicfamily, emotionalabuse,  silentpain, resilience, fightingfear, darkfamilysecrets, innerstrength,  mentalhealthhorror, hauntedhome, breakingthesilence, traumaandhealing,  nightmareathome

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 the terms apply. Don't let foot pain or discomfort hold you back.

At foot Solutions, we specialize in high-quality supportive footwear. And use the latest scanning technology to custom-make orthotics, designed for your unique feet. If you want to free your feet in joints from pain, improve balance or correct alignment, book a free foot assessment at footsolutions.com. Or pop-in store today. Foot Solutions, the first step towards pain-free feet. I had to grow up fast. Like, real fast. While other kids my age were still playing around, I was already navigating emotional landmines at home. Meanwhile, my little sister, she was coddled

like some sort of fragile treasure. My mom and sister, both narcissistic as hell, and don't even get me started on the hypocrisy. If she screws up, it's just, oh, she's going through a phase, or, she's sensitive. But if I so much as breathe wrong, I get treated like I'm the reincarnation of every serial killer rolled into one. That's not even an exaggeration. That's just the daily dynamic in our house. So here's the story that really captures it all. I was in the middle of cramming for mock exams, like the kind of cramming where your brain feels like it's melting. My dad had come back from one of his business trips, and he'd claimed the downstairs TV like it was his throne, so I was forced to study in our shared bedroom.

Not ideal, but whatever. I set up my desk, stacked my notes, and went into full revision mode. Hours pass. It's late. I'm tired. I'm parched. I need water. Simple enough, right? Nope. My sister, out of all the times in the day, decides that right now is the perfect time to do her damn ironing. Like seriously? Midnight ironing. In a tiny shared room. She props up the ironing board smack in the middle of the walkway. I figure, fine, let her do her thing.

But then I need to get by. I ask her, politely, to move. She doesn't. I ask again. She refuses. Then she starts arguing for no reason, just because she enjoys making a scene. I'm tired, thirsty, and not in the mood for a showdown. So I try to just lift the ironing board and pass.

Wrong move. The second I touch it, she flips. Like, goes completely psycho. She starts pulling the board back like we're in a tug of war. Then she threatens to burn me with the iron, the iron that's hot and on. She slashes at my hand so hard, I still have marks. Real scars. And while all this is happening, my brother hears the chaos and runs to get our mom.

She finally drags herself into the room a solid three minutes later and, brace yourself, blames me. Says I shouldn't have been studying in the room in the first place. Says, you know how she is. Like that justifies everything. Then, like an afterthought, she tells me to go to. show my dad the burn marks. I do. He says he'll deal with it. His solution. Take my sister's phone away and bring it with him on his next business trip. A whole month without a phone, sounds tough, right? Yeah, well, my mom kept the phone here and gave it back in like two weeks.

Classic. This whole punishment routine. A joke. My mom's been confiscating her phone for years and It's never made a difference. Because guess what? She did it again. Not just again, like same thing, but another attack. This time in front of my guest and my brother. Embarrassing and terrifying all at once. Same punishment too.

And again, it didn't last. But the best part, I was the one who suffered in the end. My birthday rolls around. I want to celebrate, right? Just a small sleepover with my best friends. Something chill. But I can't. I'm too scared she'll snap and attack me again. My birthday, the one day I should feel special, was almost completely ruined. I still had the sleepover, because I was desperate to feel normal, but I was on edge the whole time and nearly got in trouble for even daring to enjoy myself. And then there was

the incident with the cut. Yeah. She cut me. No iron this time, just straight up use something sharp and sliced me. And not even in a fit of rage, but with the kind of cold, calculated calm that makes your blood run cold. No rage, no excuse, and yet, no punishment. Nothing. It was like it didn't even happen. My mom's logic. She relies on me. she can trust me to be the mature one, to listen. Which is basically just code for, can you please deal with your sister for me because I'm too tired to parent?

And that's exactly what it is. She dumps her emotional labor on me. 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. That's the URC and all the best European rugby all in the same place. Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on Sports Extra. Jam back 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. Don't let foot pain or discomfort hold you back. At foot solutions, we specialize in high-quality supportive footwear. And use the latest scanning technology to custom-make orthotics, designed for your unique feet. you want to free your feet and joints from pain, improve balance or correct alignment, book a free foot assessment at footsolutions.i or pop in store today. Foot Solutions, the first step towards

pain-free feet. The apparent to my own sibling. And the second I say no or set boundaries, I'm suddenly the problem. I'm the disrespectful, disobedient, ungrateful child who needs to be screamed at and guilt-tripped. Meanwhile, my sister, swears at our mom, calls her names, yells at her, and nothing happens. Maybe a week, half-hearted, don't talk to me like that, but no real consequences. If I even raise my voice to explain myself, all hell breaks loose. I'm punished for even existing with an opinion. I've tried talking to my mom about it, tried offering real, thoughtful suggestions on how to discipline her differently. Like real plans. She always nods and says, that sounds like a good idea,

and promises to try them out. And then she never does. It's like talking to a wall, except the wall gaslights you. My sister, she doesn't just dislike me, she hates me. She's told me to kill myself. Point blank. She's told my brother the same. She says she's cursed us. Not even as a joke, like actual rituals and spells. I've seen her do it. She mutters weird stuff, lights candles, draws symbols. Like some horror movie stuff. She told us she wished we'd both die.

And my mom. She laughs when I tell her. Like it's some quirky phase. I share a room with this literal demon child and I'm supposed to just suck it up because I'm the older sibling. And yeah, I could apply for council housing. I'm technically old enough. But I have no money. I've applied for every job under the sun and haven't gotten a single one.

Not even part-time work. Nothing. I'm stuck. And my sister. She's escalating. She leaves the front door open when she leaves the house. And I'm home alone. Doesn't tell me.

doesn't care. And we live in an area where my mom constantly says to keep the doors locked. Anything could happen, I could be hurt, killed, assaulted. And my sister knows this. She just doesn't care. Or maybe she does and that's exactly the point. I feel like I'm living in a horror story that no one believes. I have physical proof.

Pictures. Videos from the night she attacked me. I've kept it all, but I can't post any of it. I don't want my identity out there. I don't want people recognizing me, knowing my business, or painting me as dramatic. But behind closed doors, this is the nightmare I'm living in. It's a ticking time bomb. Every day I wake up hoping I can survive long enough to escape.

I make lists. I research shelters. I refresh job listings. I dream about walking out and never looking back. I want peace. I want my own space. I want to stop walking on eggshells in my own home. But every day I'm reminded that wanting that, just wanting it, makes me the villain in their eyes.

What can I even do? My hands are tied. I feel trapped, like a prisoner who hasn't committed a crime. I try to breathe through it. Try to focus on the day when I'll be. free. But that day feels so far away. And every minute between now and then feels like survival mode. All I can do right now is hang on. Quietly. Anonymously. With my scars, my silence, and my hope. The end.