When I was very little, we had a crazy neighbor who used to get drunk a lot. He offered me alchohol when we went to the pool, but I was smart enough not to accept any. His son was my first kiss and we got along pretty well with them for a while, until I got into a fight with the boy.
He was drunk and I'm sure him and his wife were fighting. He came to find me at the playground, whistling for me to come over. He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me down the complex to his garage, where he made me sit down. He told me I had been mean to his son and that he was disappointed. He turned some music on and then closed the garage door. I was too terrified to run away. I thought he would get mad.
I imagined running to my house, but I thought that he might break into my house. My mom wasn't home, I was being babysat, and they were very irresponsible babysitters.
He put a motorcycle helmet on my head and began rolling about on the floor. I remember crying because I was so terrified.
Finally, he opened the garage door and let me go. I ran home, crying my eyes out.
I found out later that after that he broke into the house down the way, saying there was a party that he wasn't invited to. If I remember correctly, he got arrested and they were evicted. Scary times.