I was kidnapped as a child

Different account than my other stories because this happened to me and not my children <br><br>I was about 8 years old, and my brother was 13. I do not remember the year but it was close to my birthday (June). We lived in a trailer on the outskirts of town - our closest neighbors, the Mormans, were a quarter of a mile from us. It was brought to my attention later that my grandmother owned the land the trailer was on. My parents owned the trailer and the other structures that my dad had built. We were all very close, so much so that my parents had moved to the property to get us away from our dad's family. <br><br>Dad was abusive and manipulative - he wanted to be the center of attention and wanted us to forget about the family he had wronged. It did not help that we were too close to them to cut ties completely. I remember my dad used to yell at my mom because she wasn't cooking the right recipe - he wanted her to make it like his ex-wife. They were married so young that she did everything for him - even got him ready for prom. He always tried to get my brother and I to ignore him and that we were nothing more than a paycheck to him because he wasn't our real father. It got so bad that he convinced my mom to cut ties with her family, too. He always tried to get us to live in a tent in the middle of nowhere and be off the grid - thankfully my mom never entertained that idea.<br><br>Ok, back to the story at hand, buddy. It was a nice summer day (I think it was my birthday), and my parents went into town to fill out paperwork for me to go into the 4th grade. They left around 10am and said they'd be back by 1pm. My brother and I decided to walk to the Morman's house, which was only a quarter of a mile away, and ask to use their phone to call my parents. They had a nice house and pool that we were never allowed to go in, but they knew us well enough since we would often play in their yard when we were out playing in the woods. I want to add here that the only thing between our trailer and the Morman's house was a small patch of woods - it was not a busy road at all. I also want to add that we had a dog, a husky, that never left our side.<br><br>As we walked, we noticed that the Morman's house was slightly ajar. We knocked and no one answered. We peeked inside and saw that they were not home. We decided to go back home but noticed that there was a black car parked on the side of the road. It had tinted windows and a man was in the driver's seat. He rolled down his window and motioned for us to come over. My brother, being protective, said no. The man said he was the Morman's cousin and that we wouldn't see him again if we didn't come to him. He threatened to hurt us and kill us if we didn't obey him. My brother held my hand tight and told me we should run home. We ran, and I remember hearing the car drive down the road and pull up to our trailer. I was so scared but my brother told me to keep running. By the time we made it home, the car was pulling out of the driveway. A man jumped out of the car and chased us into the house. I was so, so scared - my brother grabbed a chair and told the man to leave us alone or he would kill him. The man laughed at him, saying "you think that chair will hurt me?" My brother stood his ground and told him again to leave. We were brave, and the man did leave.<br><br>We locked the door and called my parents. We told them what happened, leaving out the detail about the Mormans because we didn't want to scare them. My mom told us to get under the bed and call her when they got back home. It was the longest hour of my life. While we waited, we heard the car drive by multiple times, and I thought for sure he was going to come back. When my parents got home, we told them everything. They called the cops and filed a report, but nothing ever came of it. <br><br>I never forgot that man and the way he looked at me - it was the same look my dad gave me when he got mad. They ended up getting a divorce about 6 years after that incident. My parents never forgot what happened, either, and always told us to be careful and never go anywhere with strangers.<br><br>[EDIT]Different account than my other stories because this happened to me and not my children <br><br>I was about 8 years old, and my brother was 13. I do not remember the year but it was close to my birthday (June). We lived in a trailer on the outskirts of town - our closest neighbors, the Mormans, were a quarter of a mile from us. It was brought to my attention later that my grandmother owned the land the trailer was on. My parents owned the trailer and the other structures that my dad had built. We were all very close, so much so that my parents had moved to the property to get us away from our dad's family. <br><br>Dad was abusive and manipulative - he wanted to be the center of attention and wanted us to forget about the family he had wronged. It did not help that we were too close to them to cut ties completely. I remember my dad used to yell at my mom because she wasn't cooking the right recipe - he wanted her to make it like his ex-wife. They were married so young that she did everything for him - even got him ready for prom. He always tried to get my brother and I to ignore him and that we were nothing more than a paycheck to him because he wasn't our real father. It got so bad that he convinced my mom to cut ties with her family, too. He always tried to get us to live in a tent in the middle of nowhere and be off the grid - thankfully my mom never entertained that idea.<br><br>Ok, back to the story at hand, buddy. It was a nice summer day (I think it was my birthday), and my parents went into town to fill out paperwork for me to go into the 4th grade. They left around 10am and said they'd be back by 1pm. My brother and I decided to walk to the Morman's house, which was only a quarter of a mile away, and ask to use their phone to call my parents. They had a nice house and pool that we were never allowed to go in, but they knew us well enough since we would often play in their yard when we were out playing in the woods. I want to add here that the only thing between our trailer and the Morman's house was a small patch of woods - it was not a busy road at all. I also want to add that we had a dog, a husky, that never left our side.<br><br>As we walked, we noticed that the Morman's house was slightly ajar. We knocked and no one answered. We peeked inside and saw that they were not home. We decided to go back home but noticed that there was a black car parked on the side of the road. It had tinted windows and a man was in the driver's seat. He rolled down his window and motioned for us to come over. My brother, being protective, said no. The man said he was the Morman's cousin and that we wouldn't see him again if we didn't come to him. He threatened to hurt us and kill us if we didn't obey him. My brother held my hand tight and told me we should run home. We ran, and I remember hearing the car drive down the road and pull up to our trailer. I was so scared but my brother told me to keep running. By the time we made it home, the car was pulling out of the driveway. A man jumped out of the car and chased us into the house. I was so, so scared - my brother grabbed a chair and told the man to leave us alone or he would kill him. The man laughed at him, saying "you think that chair will hurt me?" My brother stood his ground and told him again to leave. We were brave, and the man did leave.<br><br>We locked the door and called my parents. We told them what happened, leaving out the detail about the Mormans because we didn't want to scare them. My mom told us to get under the bed and call her when they got back home. It was the longest hour of my life. While we waited, we heard the car drive by multiple times, and I thought for sure he was going to come back. When my parents got home, we told them everything. They called the cops and filed a report, but nothing ever came of it. <br><br>I never forgot that man and the way he looked at me - it was the same look my dad gave me when he got mad. They ended up getting a divorce about 6 years after that incident. My parents never forgot what happened, either, and always told us to be careful and never go anywhere with strangers.<br><br>[EDIT] I got a lot of questions asking why we didn't go into the Morman's house to call the cops ourselves. We were just kids, and we didn't think of that. I think in the moment we were trying to get away from the man and get home so our parents could protect us. Also, it was the 90s - cell phones were not a thing, so we could not call 911 ourselves.