Home is a sanctuary. It is the place where we are all entitled to enter and all that ails us just fades away because the outside world is a dark place. And it's our haven, our time in our safe space that keeps us sane. However, this is too often not the case. Home can be a place of turmoil and grief. Sometimes what is on the other side of the front door can be daunting and a life changing experience.
Redditor u/Cyan26 wanted to know what unknowns were creeping behind closed doors by asking... What's the worse thing you've come home to?
Hands Up!
Blood on my mailbox with several rifle shell casings scattered about near the mailbox. One of my known thief neighbors got shot 12 times in front of the mailbox, and proceeded to walk home a quarter mile away and tell his mom to call 911. He lived. Eventually, the shooter died in a situation of "suicide by cop" when he pulled a gun on the SWAT team that visited. twopacktuesday
Poo Juice?
In high school I was always the first person home in the afternoon, so it was my job to take care of our family's miniature dachshund. She was crated during the day, which was normally fine. But one day...
One day she had horrible explosive diarrhea. By the looks of it, not more than an hour or so before I got home. Plenty of time for her to panic and thrash around in it, but not nearly enough time for it to dry up.
The tray of her crate was covered in it. She was covered in it. The floor and walls surrounding her crate had littered pock marks of poo juice.
I felt so bad for her. I brought her and the crate outside and lightly hosed her off. By the time my mom got home I was giving the dog a bath (for which she seemed very grateful) and the crap covered crate was still baking in the front yard sun. InsignificantBadger
Home is where the heart is... or where the horror is. Anything to share?
H/T: REDDIT
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@realDonaldTrump/Truth Social
