So when I was about 17 (21 now), like many high school kids, I went to a lot of parties. This was the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me at a party.. so far.
My older brother and I were invited to hang out and drink at a mutual friend's house. There were only about 9 or 10 people there, it was more of a get together really.
There was one kid, Jorden, who we knew through some other friends.
I had seen him around and met him once or twice but he knew my brother better than me, and was older than any of our friends, he was about 24 at the time.
He seemed chill and the party was laid back, we were all discussing guitar and instruments and drinking some vodka.
I was a lightweight at this time, being a 5'3 115 pound 17 year old girl who barely drank.
I grew sleepy after a few hours and asked my brother if we could go home, but he had too much to drink so we decided to crash there.
My friend who was hosting the party said I could sleep in her guest bed.
Well once I went to bed, apparently everyone else at the party followed suit and knocked out one by one in the living room.
I was nodding off when I heard the door open and someone walked into the room.
I looked up and it was Jorden, he was obviously pretty drunk and slurring his speech when he asked if he could sleep in the bed too.
I immediately felt a little weird about the situation, but it was a huge bed and I was too shy to object so I was like "okay..." and he stumbled over and climbed into the bed.
I scooted as far away from him as I could because he was just a little too close for comfort and giving off a weird vibe.
I was still a little drunk and hella sleepy, and this dude just kept drunkenly rambling about nonsense and gradually creeping over to my side of the bed.
I was getting annoyed but I thought he's just drunk, he probably has no idea how annoying he's being, hopefully if I ignore him he'll just pass out.
Well he seemed to take my silence as an invitation to tell me all his deepest secrets, and his comments kept getting weirder and weirder. The last straw was when he told me "I killed my grandpa.
He was an asshole to my mom so I just killed him one day with a shotgun. I don't regret it." The weirdest part was, I had a very strong sense he was being completely truthful.
The way he told the story was so candid and unrehearsed, he was so inebriated, and his tone was cold and void of emotion. I have never once doubted the validity of that statement.
By this point I was hanging off the side of the bed and he was all the way over on my side of the bed almost spooning me. I noped right the fuck out of there and went to find my brother.
Jorden just fell asleep in the room.
I didn't see him too many times after that, except for one time when my parents were out of town and he came to a house party my brother and I threw.
After that party, my dad's shotgun and pistol went missing from under my parent's bed.
We suspected a kid in our grade at school who was a drug dealer, but my dad hired an investigator to track the stolen guns down,
and the investigator told us He had found the guy who stole the guns, and he has resold them illegally at a pawn shop and then traveled to Canada the next day.
You guessed it, it was none other than Jorden.