It has been awhile since all of this went down, but I need to get it off my chest. There is just something so very reliving about sharing your problems with anonymous people. Thank you <a href="https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.glow.android.eve">Eve</a>.

Anyhow, here is the story of the worst god damn weekend of my life: it all started when I, Swedish girl who had just stepped into adulthood, turning 18 on the 22nd of October, went to America. I was beyond excited for it all, I had never been outside of Europe and California had always been the number one destination on my dream list. So on the 13th of November, about a month ago, I headed to San Diego for my two week language trip with EF (horrible company, btw, but more on that later). I arrived at 6 pm to a very large concrete building and was put in my dorm, one which I shared with 3 girls who I had never met or even heard of in my life. This was extremely stressful for me because I have a hard time opening up and making friends and at this point, all I really wanted was to go back home.

Fast forward a week and I met another Swedish girl on a weekend trip to San Fransisco. This weekend was horrible because of course I got sick and I really did not like San Fransisco. On Wednesday the following week, this girl introduced me to my soulmates, let’s call them H and C. (Also Swedish) Hands down the most amazing people I have met in my entire life! The first girl left on Thursday to go to Las Vegas, so now it’s just me, H and C. They asked me if I wanted to spend thanksgiving with them at Denny’s, so we went there and ate nachos, we Swedes don’t celebrate thanksgiving.

Now here, this is where it all starts. A young man comes up to me with a small piece of paper in his hand and he says to me “excuse me, I just have to tell you that you are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen in my life and I wanted to give you my number.” I am shocked, nothing like this has ever happened to me before. I then introduce myself, after he asks my name, I get the number on the piece of paper and he leaves to the other side of the restaurant. My friends then insist on giving me a high five which I’m 99% sure he and his friends saw..

Later that night, when we’re leaving the restaurant, H and C says to me that if I don’t text him, they would burn my house down. So I text him and he answers seconds later, we keep texting for the rest of the night and I find out that he’s a marine soldier and in San Diego for the weekend with his friends to celebrate thanksgiving. He asks if I want to meet him on the next day, and I do, so he tells me “you bring your friends and I’ll bring mine”.

Next day, Friday night. We’re in an uber on our way to the beach to meet them. I’m extremely nervous because I had never done anything like this before. We then find them in the dark on the beach, a fire is the only source of light. It’s him and his 5 friends, all of them are marines like him. We stay on the beach until 3 am, just taking. All that time I was talking to the guy, i thought that this is too good to be true. He is too good to be true. The guys asks us if we want to come with them to the hotel they’re staying at, for some reason the six of them shared one bedroom. We went with them and I found out that I’m very talented when it comes to beer pong! At 5.30 am, three of them walk us home, back to our dorms. It’s not too far but the two of us walk slowly so that it would take longer. He tells me that he wants to properly escort me home and he calls me ma’am. I was done. A tall, well built gentleman in a uniform who calls me ma’am is the most god damn attractive thing I can think of, don’t know why, but the point is I was weak.

We then get to our dorms, we talk back and forth and he tells me several times how beautiful I am. He tells me that he would like to kiss me but only if he has my permission.

This night I couldn’t sleep at all, just because I was so amazed by all of this. This only happens in movies, not in real life. Not to me.

Next day, after two hours of sleep, it was Saturday and it was my last day in the U.S. We were going to make my last day perfect and the plan was to meet the guys again. But apparently not, because the guy stopped replying to me and just flat out ignored me. H wrote to him and asked him what he was doing, he answers “whatever”. So now we have no plans and I’m more confused than ever. So much for my romance.

Fast forward to the evening, aka the beginning of the worst night of my life. We ended up hanging out with three of his friends and I never saw his face again.

The guys were out of alcohol (I wasn’t drinking, btw) and after a quick trip to the near by liquor store, they couldn’t get the door open to their room. Why? Because the only guy left in the room fell asleep on the toilet. After about an hour he woke up, despite us throwing beer cans at the bathroom door which he “didn’t hear” we got into the room and everybody was in such a bad mood so we, my two friends and I, said f*ck it we’re going home, so we went. Big mistake, BIG.

It was now around 1 am, and, very disappointedly (idk if that’s even a word), we decided to go to Denny’s to get milkshakes instead of doing what we should have done and taken an Uber home. First off, a police came running behind us asking us to stop. He was a very short, small man. He just wanted to tell my friend C (who is 5”11) that she’s pretty and he wanted to know if she’s single. She is but I told him about Sven. Her Swedish “boyfriend” who is 6”3 and works as a bouncer. He was so disappointed, the poor guy. He was also 38 and on duty.

We then continued on our way and when we’re about 2 minutes from our destination, a white car stops in front of us on a driveway, blocking our way. A normal looking black woman, maybe 25-30 jumps out of the passenger seat with a gun in her hand. She screams “give me your bags bitches”.

I have no memory of what happens next, all I know is that one second I’m seeing this and the next I’m on the other side of the car, at least 15 meters from it when I drop my phone and I pick it up. In this moment I see my now best friend on the ground by the car. The woman is standing over her, forcefully hitting her in the head with the gun. Not once, not twice, but maybe 20 times. The other three women in the car are yelling, encouraging her to hit her even more.

I have no idea what I’m doing, I think I was screaming. Or maybe I was silent. All I know is that in a split second, I prepared myself mentally for having to watch her get shot. I was 99% sure that I was going to have to see my best friend get shot in the head and that is the absolute worst, most disgusting thing I have ever experienced. Things like these just don’t happen. They’re not real. The woman then got C’s bag and they were gone in a split second. I ran to her, she was crying and screaming at the top of her lungs, holding her hands on her head and there looked to be blood. She was repeating the words “it’s gone, everything is gone” over and over again.

Gone. I then panicked even more, where the f*ck is H? Is she dead? As an instinct, i suppose, I called 911. I had to repeat myself at least 5 times and the woman on the line asked me gently to stop screaming and to try to breathe. I hang up, H comes out of nowhere and a man on the other side of the road asks us if we’re okay. We’re not. The police and the ambulance arrives within 5 minutes and we spend the night in the ER. After a quick phone call from the asshole marine and a call to the school (who literally could not care less) I spend a while taking to a random man in the hallway, just like in a movie. Fortunately, C wasn’t injured at all and she is released at around 6 am.

It’s now Sunday, the day that I go home. My airport transfer leaves at 9 am. My flight leaves at 12.45. I shower for way too long, pack all my things and clean my part of the room, all while violently shaking and running on 2 hours of sleep since Friday night. I leave for the airport knowing I have at least 24 hours until I’m back in Sweden. H and C we’re supposed to stay until April, but thanks to the whore with the gun, all they wanted was to go home.

Monday evening, Swedish time, I’m back home. It’s -18 degrees Celsius. I see my parents, I run to them and I am so god damn relieved.

Now to the part about the losing weight, when I got home, I stepped on the scale and sure enough, I had lost 27 lbs since I left. I think it mostly was because of how nervous I was because of the guy who turned out to suck.

If anyone reads all of this, I’m impressed. You deserve a cookie. And a cake, a bucket of ice team and some pancakes, bacon and a milkshake too if you want.

I needed to get this off of my chest.

Thank you. 💕