Stan The Man – True Horror

To give you some background, when I was growing up, my extended family lived close by, as in, they lived int he same apartment complex as us.

My Uncle and Aunt were in the unit across from us, my cousins were on the second level and my grandparent sin the unit next to them. Pretty cool from an outside perspective, but this apartment complex played a part to some of my most traumatic memories and experiences.

This story doesn’t take place at this building however. Its a story about the partner of one of my cousins who lives on the second level. I won’t say his full name but they called him Stan. Stan the Man.

Fast foreword to when i’m 21-22ish. I’m living in a different apartment with my mother. Same apartment fromΒ “Someone Watching”

Those same cousins and her boyfriend had moved into the same complex as us once again. They lived at the end. This means, I’ve basically grew up around Stan all my life. From 3 to 22, he has lived in the same building as me.

I had grown to trust him. We chatted, joked. I thought of him as family.

One day, I go to do laundry in the back. The laundry room is a bit secluded in that building. Its a little back room that you get to by going around the building. At this point, I needed to put my clothes in the drier so I went down and around the back. When I get there, I see Stan inside.

I tell him “Sorry, i’ll be done soon. Just drying now.”

He smiles and acknowledges this and steps out.

I go in and begin to transfer my clothes, but I notice that Stan has not left. He’s standing at the entrance to the little room. I begin to get an odd feeling. I ask him about something trivial, like the weather. he gives me some weak reply I don’t remember and continues to wait there, no clothes or basket in hand.

When i’m done, I stand up straight and turn to look at him. He’s just watching me. A moment of silence passes and I start to survey my options. I didn’t like the tension.

“What’s up?” I asked, keeping the nervousness out of my voice.

“Can I ask you something?” he said.

“Yeah, sure.”

He stars at me and I get a chill. Was he trapping me in the room? What was going through his head? I was starting to panic.

“Can I…,” he began, “see your breasts?”

I blinked.

I was so taken aback. I shook my head.

“No…”

And he chuckled and moved aside.

I didn’t run, but I moved past him swiftly and went back around the building. I heard his footsteps. He was right behind me.

“Can I get just a peek?” he asked.

I didn’t reply. I went to my house, opened the door and locked myself in.

He didn’t stop there. He came up to the screen of the door and peered in, calling me by name. He began to whisper in.

“They are so big….I just want to see a bit.”

“No. Why would you even ask me that?” I said.

“Cause I like you.”

My younger cousin stayed in the same unit as him. She was 3 years younger.

“You haven’t…asked Nia to do this have you?”

He chucked again.

“I don’t like her. She’s bad. Not like you.”

I got the creeps. But was glad she was safe.

“How long have you liked me?” I asked. He smiled and it gave me the most disgusting feeling.

“Since we lived in the old place.”

I was repulsed. I lived in the apartment I mentioned in the beginning from 3 years old to 14. I was just a kid then.

I nodded to him and casually told him I wouldn’t do what he asked and to please leave. There would b no changing my mind.

When he left, I waited till I thought it was safe to get the rest of my clothes. I ended up waiting till my mother got off of work to tell her what happened. She was furious and wondered why i didn’t tell her right away. Mostly cause I knew it would stress her.

The next couple of days, Stan’s girlfriend, my cousin, found out and he denied everything. She kicked him out for a few days but eventually let him back in.

How she sleeps with a man she knows hit on her younger cousin, I don’t know, but till this day, I haven’t said another word to Stan, the Man.

Advertisement

9 thoughts on “Stan The Man – True Horror

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s