My childhood friend and neighbor was potentially a serial killer...

**This is a convoluted story, so bare with me as I try to convey it in a way that makes sense.** <br><br>When I was about 9, we moved to a quiet street in a suburban town in upstate NY. There were about 10 houses on the street, half with families and the other half older retired couples. You will come to realize that the location of the houses is very important to the story. <br><br>The house across from us was a small, two story ranch, owned by an older lady named Bernadette (60s). We became very close with her, as she was a really kind and caring person. Almost like a grandparent to me.<br><br>Bernadette lived alone on the ground floor. One day, she decided to start renting the second floor out to tenants. She would access the second floor with a ladder hidden in a door in the kitchen. <br><br>One day, when I was 13 or so, I made friends with this kid from a house a few up the street from mine. He was a quiet kid but he was the same age and had some of the same interests as me (video games, etc.) so we would hang out sometimes. His name was Timmy. <br><br>Timmy lived with his father, and he would always complain about how difficult his father was on him. <br><br>I remember the day Bernadette rented her second floor to Timmy's father. My mom didn't think that was a good idea (she had seen Timmy get directly punished by his father for no good reason) but it was Bernadette's house and she was so desperate to get money to pay for her two kids' college. Timmy's father was a strange man who never said a word, but always kept to himself. Shortly after, Timmy moved in as well, and we would spend more time together. <br><br>One day, I was hanging out at Bernadette's house when I had to use the bathroom. She told me that I could use the one upstairs if I wanted to have more privacy than the main floor one. So I go up, and as I'm walking by, I see Timmy's room. For some reason, it was wide open, and there was a desk with a bunch of photographs of people missing from the local area. (For context, there was a string of missing persons in our town from people who would be out playing in the night). I immediately realized that these weren't pictures he had printed from the internet, they were actual pictures of these people...I was so fucking terrified and I immediately ran down to tell Bernadette, but she was too afraid to call the police, so she instead went and talked to Timmy's father, who said that the pictures were for a school project, and that Timmy sometimes worked in the library. (As if that's a fucking reason to have over 20 printed pictures of local missing persons).<br><br>I could go on and on about how fucked up this was, and how it could lead to him actually getting away with this, but it gets worse. The next few weeks, I noticed that the pictures were gone, but that there were many duffel bags in his room, which I assume were the bodies of people he had abducted. I was too afraid to look closer at them. <br><br>One night, I hear a noise in the middle of the night, and it was the sound of the ladder moving. It sounded like someone was going up into the second floor. I turn on the lights, and lo and behold, Timmy and his father are carrying a tied up girl on a tarp with blood covering her face up into the house. I couldn't look any longer.<br><br>I woke my parents up and told them immediately. This time, we were going to call the police, but as I looked out the window, the police car had just passed the street and gone by. By the time the cops got there, there was no one in the house except for Bernadette. She said that Timmy and his father had left about a month prior and she didn't know where they went. About a month after that, the cops did end up finding the car they were driving, abandoned in a ditch, with a dead body in the backseat. <br><br>The next few months were hell, and I had to go through a bunch of fucking shit with the police and court, but I never heard anything about Timmy. <br><br>The house across the street is now abandoned and has been put up for sale, but no one's bought it. <br><br>Whenever I think about this, I don't know what to believe, and it creeps me the fuck out. I lived in that house until I left for college, and it was hell. Timmy, you better not be out there, and you better not find me.