I went to spend the night at a friend's house when I was in elementary school. He was a nice kid, and my mom had met his mom a few times, and everything seemed cool.
My parents dropped me off at his place around 5pm on a Friday and him and I started playing Nintendo in his room. We emerged for dinner around 7pm, and found his uncle in the living room passed out on the couch with hardcore porn playing. No one in the family seemed bothered by this, so I just pretending nothing was wrong.
After dinner we went back to his room and played some more games. Around midnight, he decides we should go for a walk around the neighbor hood. We go outside, and he goes over to a bush in his front yard, and pulls out a machete. He said we needed it for protection. I didn't feel like arguing with a knife-wielding crazy person.
We walk for 20 minutes and get back to his house, and he stashes the machete in the same bush and we go inside. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I asked how long he's been hiding it there. He says his family hides weapons all over the house, and proceeds to show me small knives, scissors, ice picks, razors, etc, all hidden above door frames, under furniture, inside decorations, EVERYWHERE. He said you never know when you'll need to protect yourself.
I can't describe how I felt in that moment (probably like this), but I told him I was tired and we needed to go to bed. He had a bunk bed, and I crawled up on the top bunk, and glued my eyes to the ceiling, and did NOT go to sleep. Around 3am, I was confident he and everyone else in the house were asleep. I stealthily made my way to the kitchen to get the house phone (no cell phones back then). I prayed no one could here me, and I called my parents (my parents are saints, and would do anything for me). They woke up, and I calmly explained that I didn't feel well and I desperately needed to get home (in case someone was awake in the house and listening). My mom knew something was up, and both my parents rushed over to the house and quietly helped me get my stuff and we high-tailed it. Once I was safely home with my parents, I recounted everything that had gone down over the past 10 hours. My parents handled the situation like pros, but they were prepared to never let that kid or his family near me again.
Keep in mind, this all went down on a Friday night, and his family never called my parents to see what happened to me, or why I had just disappeared from their home. On Monday, when we had school again, he found me at recess and casually mentioned that he woke up on Saturday and I wasn't there, so he wondered what happened (no panic, no "Oh my god you're alive!" just, casual "Hey, you disappeared for three days. What's up?") I told him I hadn't felt well that night, so my parents took me home.
That was the first and last time I ever went to his house.
TL;DR Crazy family keeps weapons casually hidden throughout house because meth is a helluva drug.