My dad let a complete stranger spend the night at our house, and I’m still terrified of the bedtime story he told

My dad and step mom are two of the most paranoid people I’ve ever met. They watch 24/7 news on their TV at home, traipse around the yard at night in search of intruders, and have a bulletproof door in their bedroom where they lock themselves for the night.<br><br>Their paranoia, at the time, made me feel pretty safe as a kid. I don’t think I ever really traipsed around the dark yard at night thinking about intruders.<br><br>But my dad did have one very odd moment of paranoia, that came in the form of a random hitchhiker he let sleep on our couch. He would never tell me where he’d picked the dude up, or anything about him. All I know is I was being homeschooled (another paranoia thing) that day, sitting in the kitchen when my dad pulled up with a total stranger.<br><br>I’m not kidding when I say this, but the man looked like a fucking redneck lumberjack. He had a shaved head, with a goatee so fluffy that it looked wet for some reason. He had tattered jeans, and a white t shirt, and one of those camouflage jackets from the early 2000s. And he was huge, at least 6 feet tall with a big gut.<br><br>I watched as my dad pulled up, and this man stepped out of the passenger seat (my dad hated riding in the passenger seat). He just casually let this man into our house, showing him to the bathroom.<br><br>I was absolutely terrified. I had never seen him before, and my dad just let him into the house without so much as an introduction. He didn’t even explain to me who this guy was, it was just a random dude in our bathroom.<br><br>I hid behind a door as he walked out, and he looked directly at me. I’ll never forget his stare, just a stone-cold expression that made me shiver.<br><br>He walked out onto the porch where my dad was smoking, and they did some kind of handshake before my dad handed him a pack of smoke.<br><br>Right after that exchange, my dad got into a car and drove off. I have no idea where he went, but he left the stranger in our house.<br><br>This man, whose name was Bubba (I shit you not, that is what he told me his name was), walked up to me as I watched my dad drive off. I was in a daze, but he seemed to want to have a conversation with me. He asked me what I was reading, and offered me a bit of his cigarette smoke.<br><br>I politely declined, and backed away from him. I don’t know if he was trolling me, but he let out this sinister laugh and said “Oh you’re one of those parents’ kid, huh? Thought I was being pranked when your daddy let me in.” he said.<br><br>I didn’t know what he meant, but I thought of my dad’s constant paranoia. Did he not see this as some kind of threat? He let a complete stranger in his house, with his daughter in the middle of the day!<br><br>I shook my head, and he let out another laugh. He walked over to the stove where my dad was boiling a pot of water (something he did a lot), and grabbed a metal fork. He jammed the fork into the boiling pot of water, and it began to screech. He laughed loudly and said “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt ya.”<br><br>At that point I was terrified. I didn’t know what to do, my dad was gone and he was the only person in the house. I walked over to the phone, and he stepped quickly over to me. He took my hand in his meaty hand, and it was like he had vice grips in his fists. I shrieked as he let out that sinister laugh again.<br><br>And just like that, my dad walked in. He told me he was gonna run to the store for some milk, but he walked in with this weird look on his face. He quickly seized Bubba’s shoulders, and slammed him on the ground.<br><br>I shrieked as he jumped on top of Bubba, and he pinned him down. My dad flipped Bubba on his stomach, and I heard the sound of a makeshift bag being ripped open. My dad yanked Bubba’s hair back, and pinned him to the ground with his knee. He pulled out a small pouch of red powder from Bubba’s greedy hands, and he pinned him down further.<br><br>Right at that moment, a police car pulled up. A tall, muscular police officer got out of the car, and ran towards my dad. He grabbed Bubba by the wrists, and pinned him to the ground.<br><br>My dad, the man with the perpetual paranoid expression on his face, was now grinning wildly. “I knew that son of a bitch was gonna rob me!” he shouted.<br><br>The cop muffled Bubba, and ripped his goatee off. He looked like he’d been burned for a bit, because there was a big bald spot on his chin. He squirmed and kicked as the cop yanked the ripped off goatee off.<br><br>The red powder spilled everywhere as the cop stood up and walked Bubba away, shoving him into the car.<br><br>My dad slammed the door, and came inside. He walked up to me, and completely out of the blue, he stepped into the bedroom and closed to door. I didn’t see him the rest of the day, and I went to bed feeling pretty anxious.<br><br>I woke up at maybe 2 am, to the sound of my dad walking around. I don’t know what he was doing that he had to stomp around my room at 2 in the morning, but he came in at like 2:30 am talking at a normal volume for some reason. <br><br>It was 2:30, and he was explaining the story of my mom’s death. She died at a pretty early age due to cancer, but my dad always had this weird, paranoid notion that something was wrong in the room. At the time I was like 3 or 4, and I don’t think I really understood what he was saying.<br><br>Do you know that feeling, like you’re lying in bed at night and you’ll hear something, and you’ll let out a big shriek and jump out of bed? That’s what it felt like.<br><br>I don’t know what my dad was doing, but he was kinda revving his engine. He kept doing this, and the bed would shake and it felt like the entire house would. I don’t know if I was dreaming at the time, but I swear I heard his voice in my head.<br><br>It was 3 am at the time, and it was pitch black. I tried to sleep, but the sound of my dad’s voice in my head (something that would never happen) made me wake up.<br><br>I got out of bed, to piss and clear my head. I walked out into the living room, and at first I thought it was an intruder. But it was Bubba, in my dad’s camouflage jacket.<br><br>He had a goatee again, but it wasn’t black. It was red.<br><br>Do you know how it feels to be so scared you’re basically paralyzed? I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even speak. I shit you not, my dad had a damaged couch. A couch with a big hole chewed out of the middle. Bubba was sitting in that couch, with a big black duffle bag wrapped in duct tape.<br><br>He looked up at me, and he beckoned me over. He was smiling, but it was a creepy wide-eyed smile. I don’t think I’d traipsed around the yard at night thinking about intruders, but at that moment I kinda wished for it.<br><br>And I did. I literally ran out the front door, and into the night. I didn’t know where to go, but I ran as fast as I could. I wasn’t very old at the time, probably only in the 3rd grade.<br><br>I ran until the morning, when I got tired and walked back to the house. I came home to my dad mopping the floor. The weird thing is, the kitchen was spotless. There weren’t any red stains on the ground.<br><br>I asked my dad if it was okay, but he just smiled and said that he let my uncle stay the night. I shook my head, and told him that it wasn’t my uncle.<br><br>He just laughed and said that I probably had a dream about that. I shook my head again, and he just laughed and said “Well bedtime stories are supposed to be scary.” <br><br>You probably don’t know what the fuck I’m referring to by this point, but he was talking about Bubba. The guys red goatee, and he fact that he made me tell a bedtime story.<br><br>So yeah, if you’re out there Bubba, let’s not meet.