11. My grandfather pulled a gun on me when I was twelve and staying with them while I was sick with
Scarlet Fever. He was very drunk and commented that neither one of us was worth a damn and started trying to load his rifle/shotgun, have no clue which kind. I ran out of the house barefoot in my pajamas (it was winter in NW Pa) and to the neighbors, who called my grandmother at work. He was passed out by the time my Nana got home, but it terrified me for a very long time.
When he wasn't drunk he thought I would be Miss America.
Forward to the early eighties and my cousin, an alcoholic steroid-taking idiot, called me about 1 a.m. He told me he'd had enough and I heard a gunshot and nothing more. I screamed into the phone, nothing. My ex and I raced to his house. I was terrified at what we would find, he was raised with me until age 7 and kind of like a brother.
He had shot out the back window into muddy ground at his apartment complex. He was involuntarily committed for a month.
Both incidents seriously traumatized me for a long time.