Delicious Brownies LetsNotMeet

Throwaway account for personal reasons. Usual newbie apologies inserted here.

My name is Jackson. When I was 18, I lived in a lovely neighborhood, the stereotypical kind you see in movies where every family is extremely happy and knows eachother well. There was little crime, even then it was just small robberies from stores. It was a very comfortable environment. Every house on my street had two floors, as the area mostly consisted of young families. One of the exceptions being Thomas.

Thomas was a man in his mid-late 20s who was not the sanest person, to put it politely. He didn't really cause a disturbance however, and he came over from his house across the street and talked to me very kindly while I was tending to the yard a few times. He acted a little odd but I just viewed it as slightly funny and let him get on with it.

One day, during one of our discussions, he mentioned how he had recently gotten into baking. I brought up that I also enjoyed it and helped my mother make cakes and cookies for my younger siblings, which seemed to make him light up. Completely irrelevant to the conversation, he grabbed my shoulders and asked me if I considered him my friend. Not wanting to hurt his feelings, I just sort of uttered a slow "Yeahhh..."

He shoved his face directly in front of mine and sternly whispered "good." He then marched back to his house, quick as that. I was confused to say the least.

Being a teenager between school and college, my sleeping schedule was unpredictable. It wasn't uncommon for me to wake up at 1 or 2 PM some days.

One morning, er, afternoon, I walked into the kitchen and found a plate of cookies on the counter. I called my mother to see if they were a free-for-all or were to be saved for my siblings after dinner (I was extremely afraid to break any rules) and she said they were from Thomas, for me. I felt a little uncomfortable, but flattered he wanted to make them for me. I ate a few, and they tasted a little bland, but nice enough.

Every few days for the next four weeks, Thomas would come over with different selections of baked goods, all of which tasted normal enough. I wasn't one to pass up free food. It's odd to note that in this time I never actually saw or heard from him.

Suddenly, his gifts stopped.

For two weeks, he was not seen. By anyone. At all. In any part of town. I was very concerned by this point, as were a lot of my neighbors, as we had grown fond of Thomas no matter how weird he was to hang out with. He had no family in the area, so a few guys volunteered to go see if he was all right. The front door was apparently unlocked upon arrival.

Whatever they expected to find in there, it was not what they found. Thomas was not there.

Thomas' house was a wreck. There was piles upon piles of garbage, dirt, clothing, old food, and other decaying organic material just... overflowing in there. It was reminiscent of an episode of Hoarders. I, myself, never ventured into the house (thank God) but according to one of my friends who did, the stench was unbearable.

Conveniently enough, the kitchen was the worst. There were maggots and cockroaches galore. All the ingredients in his cupboards and refrigerator were weeks, some even MONTHS out of date. I had fucking eaten food made from that shit. Multiple times. His bathroom was coated with feces and urine. It smelled distinctly like ammonia, a lovely difference from the fact the rest of the house smelled like death.

His bedroom was surprisingly clean compared to the rest of the house. I mean, the floor was coated in God-knows-what, but you could actually see the carpet in some areas at least.

A few of the things they found in there were... less than savory. There was a zip-loc baggie containing human children's teeth. A large collection of lighters. And, oh boy, you'll never guess what came next.

A fucking dildo with "JACKSON" cut into the silicone.

Thomas was never seen again. I moved into a different state a few months after this incident, before moving again for college. Neither I nor my family know what happened to him. I just hope he's out there, somewhere, getting whatever help he needs.

So, Thomas, even though I considered you my 'friend', I hope we do not meet again.

Submitted January 24, 2015 at 09:09AM by yeehawthrowaway420 http://ift.tt/1BTVBU5 LetsNotMeet