So i got rear ended on the highway the other day and I've never been in an accident before so apologies for the questions.
The accident happened in stop and go traffic when it was wet from raining a few hours earlier. I changed lanes into a new lane and was fully in my new lane for a good 30-40 seconds. As i braked when the guys in front of me braked, I saw in my rear view mirror the guy behind me coming at speed and rear ends me....now we pull over and 911 says cops arent going to come.
We both file claims and I get a call from his insurance company basically saying that guy claims I cut him off....which is bs. Now the damage to my car is on the bar right side (impact dents and what not) and his damage is on the front left side. The reason the damage is only on one half of the rear of my car is because the guy behind me tried to swerve to the right at the last second to avoid the collision.
Now does this guy actually have grounds to put some of the fault on me? I mean its a "he said she said" situation i guess. I am worried the photo evidence (since damage is only on one side) could actually give him an edge. Should i be concerned and how should i proceed when talking to insurance? Are mediators able to judge from the photos of damage whether his claims are true or not?

Okay, I'll admit I'm shallow and will be drawn to a pretty (actually I prefer cute) face. But beyond that initial impression personality counts a lot!
I first saw Latata sometime in 2018-2019 because I knew of Soyeon from Produce 101 and Unpretty Rapstar. I made a mental note about Soojin, but it was Yuqi that caught my eye and interest. But I didn't follow anyone or (G)-Idle at the time.
In 2020, I saw Yuqi, Soojin and Shuhua on Knowing Bros. My interest in Yuqi and Soojin grew, but I didn't think the segments gave a lasting impression. I rewatched Latata and this time noticed Miyeon. How did I miss her the first time around?
Jump to 2022 and OT5 appeared on Knowing Bros. Miyeon stole the first part of the show when her answer to "Who is the prettiest idol?" was "Prettier than me?" A princess indeed! Yuqi took the second part of the show with her gae s***!
But it was My Bag during their medley that sparked my interest! This was nothing like anything I heard from any Kpop group! Who were these women and why had I been sleeping on them?
I watched the M-Countdown comeback with My Bag and began to fall in love with Shuhua. How was this cool lady, boss baby, the same person who only sang latata?
I then watched the Vlive where someone called her ugly. I cried that someone would say something so cruel and felt sorry for Shuhua, thinking how well she handled the situation despite being hurt. It was on the second viewing that I realized she didn't care herself, but was angry about the viewer saying the same thing to Soojin. I completely fell in love with her! A love that grew as I learned about Sooshu.
I started watching their MVs, I-Land and Vlive. I jumped around and when I saw Oh My God, Soojin jumped from the back burner to the front on ultra high! Her appearance along with her loving relationship with Shuhua secured a place in my heart.
Thankfully I missed her scandal in 2021 and only knew that she was missing on the full group's first appearance on Knowing Bros. But cried then and cry now thinking about how much of an integral part of (G)I-dle she will always be.
Minnie joined the others when I watched her Vlive with Yuqi and they both speak Mandarin. Knowing her only from her music appearances, I thought she was a bit too sophisticated for my taste. But she completely won my heart with "Yuqi bu hao!" and the following argument in which she was anything but sophisticated! And I was completely shocked at her high pitched voice. How is this the same person who sang those low and high notes in Lion?
This brings us to Soyeon. As I said, I knew her from Produce 101 and Unpretty Rapstar and bow my head in shame that I only saw her physical appearance. But again, it was My Bag that began to develop my love and admiration for her. As I learned how much of an powerhouse she is and like Minnie, how different she is offstage, non-business personality is, my heart's attachment to her grew.
When I first saw Allergy, I screamed that screen, "Nooooo...don't, you're perfect as you are!" and actually thought she would actually be changed for their comeback.

So here’s the story. In 2018 I went through a horrible depression. Could not go outside or I would have a panic attack. I went got therapy and slowly started feeling better. I was on a dating app and match with her. She was cute and I am well not so confident. It was just supposed to be a hook up but it obviously did not turn out that way. She was a absolute alcoholic. Before she met me she would hang out with guys for alcohol. I being stupid and young gave her the same thing. We hooked up the second date and I felt in love. Stupidly I told her I love her and she said I love you. Our first bit was just us getting drunk and not giving two fucks. Then I kinda stoped wanting to do it cause my friends put some light in my head. But she was out of control. She would tell me she is not drunk but was absolutely gone. I would tell her please tell me the truth and she would not. It got really bad. I would time and time again say if you don’t fix this and get help then im done. But honestly in the back of my head I was too weak to lose her. It got to the point when she would steal it from my mom and I lost it on her. I sat her down and said im done if this continues I can’t be with you. And actually it worked. That was all in the first year. We would fight constantly. I would say im done to try and put fear into her. She would snap so quick I like to think im a good guy but she honestly brought the worst out in me. She would drink here and there but it was socially. Fast forward 3 years and we ended up getting a place. Things would be so good but when things where bad they where horrible. I was so lazy I would come home from work and just lay down. Not clean not take good care of myself. I think I was depressed but maybe didn’t realize it. She would be so good. But you say the wrong thing and it was so bad. The drinking gave me horrible trust issues and when I would ask her things she would be pissed at me. Saying “why don’t you trust me” and then I was the bad guy. I gave her so much. I would of done anything for her. The past couple months she has got back into drinking. She was honest with me. But she would get drunk probably every day. Finding reason to why. “My boss was too much today” “my pet died” I would try and help but one ear and out the other with her. Her problem was hard liquor I said we can drink but only on weekends. I hated her drinking hard liquor. So about a week ago now. I went to pick her up from her friends. And I could tell instantly she was drunk. I said “ your drunk how much did you drink” and she said “I only had 3 coolers” honestly I snapped cause it was getting out of hands. Her so called friend would allow her to get drunk at her place when she knows she is trying to not be a alcoholic. My friends would give me shit if I did something like that. And I’m great full for them. I said I’m done not meaning it trying to put fear hoping she would wake up. But this time she was done. Her friend probably gassed her up saying she does not need me. I begged her I apologized. I asked her if we can fix it and she just said no she has no more love for me. Side note I want to have kids someday soon and my believe was she would too I mean she would always say not right now and I said it’s no rush. But that night she just said she does not really want children. I was so fucking hurt. She lied. She was done . For 2 days I tried to fix it and all she would say is leave me alone. Then she went back to her parents. I would message her nonstop begging for another chance. She said give her space. She said we can talk in a couple days. I was relieved. Then one day she said she was going to come by. And if I could pick her up. I was out so I could not. When I came home a lot of stuff was gone. (Her stuff) so I messaged her I guess your done? And she said it’s not going to work out. Never gave me the chance to talk. I was so lost I would look at pictures of how happy we where and think of her with other people and get sick. I spammed her with messages begging but she would just ignore me. I made her feel like the winner even though she fucked it up. She was my first love. I thought she would be mine forever. But no. I’m scared that in 2 weeks from now she will try to get back together and I will be too weak to say no. BPD is not fun. And I’m so hurt rn. Everything I do I think about when it was with her. If you read all of this thank you. Sorry if grammar is not the best.

Hail Brothers and Sisters!
I just finished a meditation session and I am wondering if you could help me figure out what the vision(s) mean. Note: I am aware that it is up to me to interpret as it is different with every person I am just looking for a external point of view.
The moment I started the temple automatically formed as the gods eagerly awaited me. Before I could ask anything I felt the a flap of wings behind me and the hand of Freyja. I felt the presence of every god and goddess in the room. I asked to see what is to come. As my fate is not my own and I am a mere reader of it. The gods showed a vision of me in a tank in a field looking down the sights and firing soon after the glorious Valkyries came and took me with no time wasted. I then saw myself amongst those in Valhalla feasting at a table. And not the tables of our brethren but the table of the Gods next to Odin himself. I also asked when the cycle of me messing up will stop and they showed a vision of me currently meditating. As I finished my meditation the statues of Odin, Freyja and Thor that I had emplaced at a specific location where moved closer to me. I then looked at myself in the mirror and I saw myself in a different light. I was surrounded by Valkyries with a raven on my shoulder with runic markings and Viking paint on my face. Then I heard a voice say 'Glory to the Aesir, Glory to the drengr of Ragnarök!' before it all faded and I returned to my normal state.
I know the gods are near me at all times as I see ravens everyday each deviating from their path to follow my direction of travel. As well as I had one land on my shoulder and look at me. I extended my arm and it jumped to my arm. Its talons in my arm yet not painful. In the distance I could see Odin looking in my direction and smiling at me.
I have a feeling that this vision is tied to what the gods have taught me in the past. They had mentioned and showed me a unspoken goddess named Ylva Odinsdottir. And in visions where I stood in Valhalla I was in the body of that goddess. As if they were telling me I am that unspoken goddess(for more context look at the other posts I have made).
I have really gotten into Assassin's creed Valhalla recently and despite it not being fully Historically accurate I have a feeling of strong connection to Eivor. As if I am watching myself. Some of the visions I am shown correlate a lot to what I see in the game. I believe the gods are trying to show me the truth of who I am not only in celestial realms but here on Midgard and what purpose I serve down here. Also another thing that correlates to the game is how the gods talk to me during the day. Time freezes and I get taken to a darken place with all that are around with Odin, and Freyja walking around talking to me about things. I notice that I am no longer in my Midgard form but rather in celestial form during these talks. Once they have said what they needed to time would restart and continue as if nothing happened during that time.
I appreciate any who answer and give their view on what I shared. I will take any opinions on what I said into consideration in the meaning of the vision and what the gods have shown.
Glory to the Gods! Glory to Valhalla! Glory to Midgard!

Helloooooo,
Just venting, really.
I(36F) crossed paths with an amazing human(31M) last September, while we were both travelling through Spain. We know we're not meant for a long-term thing as we want different things out of life, but it was still an extraordinary experience. You know the Before Sunset-Sunrise trilogy? Well, it puts those movies to shame.
We kept in touch, took a break, and then reconnected in April. I didn't purposefully stop myself from dating or looking for a better match. I'd still meet people but those connections fell short. He's mostly very attentive and flirtatious, but sometimes he becomes distant. He never leaves me on read, and is a prompt replier, but his tone sounds flat sometimes. I addressed it and he explained that it was a symptom of a brain injury he'd had, that sometimes he just disconnects and I'm not the first person who's pointed it out either. And that he's not a fuckboi who's lost interest.
As it turns out, I'm going to be in his continent this summer for a family vacay. I suggested meeting up and he got scared of making a commitment of any sort (he's hopping around and doesn't know where he'll be at the time, and what if one/both of us meet/s someone). I know it's not personal but it was still disappointing... If you read through our texts, it's the most sensual erotic novella you'd ever see. Wtf was the point of all that if he doesn't jump at the chance of fulfilling those? Anyway, we left it at a "we'll see when you get here" type of thing. I assured him that there's no pressure, that if he happens to be in a place that I already want to visit, we could hang out, but I won't go out of my way for him.
But you know what? That's not good enough for me. I understand his hesitation (because luckily for him I'm a super empath), but I won't lower my standards anymore. I deserve consistency, I deserve someone who's excited to see me, hell, who'll even buy me a plane ticket and book the nicest room and plan out all the fun activities, who'll ask me where I'd liked to be wined and dined.
I'm ending things with him. The next time he sends me a cute message or a reel, I already have a typed-out message which I will copy-paste. That if he wants to make solid plans and have regular communication with me, then he's welcome to keep writing. But if he can't, then to not contact me at all. No more breadcrumbs. Thank you, and best of luck.
It's a real fucking shame, but I'm grateful I'm able to do this. I'm thankful to have learned my lessons.
Thank you for listening. Virtual hugs welcome.

Before submitting a comment about an issue, the #1 thing any user should do when they first experience issues with a new update is to follow these troubleshooting steps.

If issues still persist despite the efforts made in this thread, report the issue to cricut.

⭐⭐Print then Cut users⭐⭐
Calibrate your machine right after an update as your calibration settings will not carry over into the latest update. Follow the advice of the calibration guide. Then do a test print then cut of your project using plain printer paper.
If for some reason after calibration your cuts are still inaccurate, clear cache (the troubleshooting guide above this) and try calibration again.

If you are experiencing issues despite clearing cache, please give some background information:

• Cricut machine (Joy, Joy Xtra, Explore Air 2, Explore air 3, Maker, Maker 3, etc.).
• Device (Windows 10, Window 11, Mac, iPhone, iPad, Android).
• Type of project you were attempting to do. (Basic cut, print then cut, drawing, foiling, scoring, etc.)
• Were you successful in doing this project in the past? Or is this a new project?

What has changed (Desktop v8.30.64)? Update on May 6, 2024.

Fixed field issues: This release

• The ability to customize the Card project enables users to select specific sizes and personalize them according to their preferences.
  
• After disabling specific contours, the bounding box encloses the remaining ones within the Canvas.
  
• Images not uploading.
  
• Upon selecting, it appears that some of the ‘Make It Now’ projects in the Canvas have disappeared.
  
• Right-clicking and selecting “View image sets” from the Layers panel often displays irrelevant images.
  

Last 6 weeks:
Over the last 6 weeks we've fixed 74 software defects, including the following priority field issues and reliability concerns:

• The ability to customize the Card project enables users to select specific sizes and personalize them according to their preferences.
  
• After disabling specific contours, the bounding box encloses the remaining ones within the Canvas.
  
• Images not uploading.
  
• Upon selecting, it appears that some of the ‘Make It Now’ projects in the Canvas have disappeared.
  
• Right-clicking and selecting “View image sets” from the Layers panel often displays irrelevant images.
  
• Selecting certain fonts in the font selection process is causing delays in rendering on the Canvas
  
• The text box fails to load on the Canvas, and adding a text field in Chinese is not possible
  
• Changes made to the latest project are lost upon sharing.
  

- Draw projects are being opened as cuts instead of drawings, resulting in a color change.
- Save a project on iOS, then open it on desktop, and notice that the changes fail to appear.

• The Canvas tab disappears and it takes longer for the Canvas tab to load.
  
• The saved project only shows letters on the Canvas, but double-tapping the text box reveals the entire sentences.
  
• After finishing cutting the mat that's off-screen, the scrollbar scrolled back to the top instead of moving to the next mat.
  
• My Stuff doesn't show any projects, and the collection is displayed without a name.
  
• Follow button is not working on profile page
  
• Profile links that are copied and pasted shows Blank home page.
  
• Forever stuck on the project details page, with both the customize and make buttons greyed out.
  
• Print Then Cut images appear distorted or the print preview is not accurate
  
• Print Then Cut images did not appear correctly on the cut screen.
  
• The Print Then Cut quality warning message is preventing the user from proceeding to make it.
  
• Clicking "View All" on recent uploads either redirects to the Inspire/Discover page or results in the inability to access the full set of uploaded images.
  
• The Canvas performance drastically slows down when inserting high-quality uploaded images.
  
• The functionality of the automatic background remover has stopped working.
  
• Uploaded high-resolution images, those above 300 DPI, are displaying low-resolution warnings.
  
• When uploading an image with a resolution exceeding 300 DPI, it undergoes downsizing, accompanied by a low-resolution warning message for each uploaded image.
  
• The image icon that regulates the number of images per line remains unresponsive.
  
• The image loses focus when resized, and after hiding contour and resizing, it becomes impossible to move the image upward in the Canvas.
  
• There are performance issues with Warp, as it takes more than a second to enter edit mode and experiences lag when additional characters are entered. Additionally, after completing editing and clicking outside the box, there is a delay.
  
• There's no prompt to confirm unsaved changes, and the previous unsaved Canvas disappears without any notification to replace or save it.
  
• Using the keyboard shortcut cmd + shift + left arrow key to highlight everything results in improper rendering of the highlight.
  
• When opening Image Sets, the images load closely together, and the Image Set name tile appears misplaced, positioned between the top and second row instead of the first row.
  
• When performing combine, subtract, intersect, or exclude operations and attaching them, the color or operations remains unchangeable.
  
• Upon launching the app, users encounter a white screen, a continuous spinner, and a missing refresh token.
  
• Even after power cycling and setting the load to go, the -18 machine connection error continues to persist
  
• When hovering over the mat control multiple times, the mat preview fails to appear.
  
• When toggling the mirror function, the mat selection jumps, causing the left side to scroll back to the top.
  
• Cannot remove images from a collection
  
• Completing the product setup for a second time with a different machine leads to going to the "Get Started" page without setting the correct machine type.
  
• The "Get Started" page on the left rail and the pointer finger suggest that there's a reason to click there.
  
• It's not possible to unlike projects, and an error message stating "unable to remove likes" is displayed.
  
• The bookmark icon fails to switch to "bookmarked" for image sets
  
• The private profile message fails to display, and opening a project link leads to an empty Canvas without the project
  
• The shared profile links are incomplete, leading to the home page instead of directing to the profile
  
• Card Mat - If users attempt to make or customize without selecting a finished size, they will be prompted with the error message, "Select a Finished Size to continue
  
• When adding a photo to the Project details, it's observed that the image is zoomed in excessively, making it impossible to zoom out sufficiently to display the entire photo.
  
• It is not possible to cancel a full-page Print Then Cut project from the Mat Prepare screen.
  

-After completing the cut with Print Then Cut and Basic Cut operations attached, the mat remains unloaded.
-Performing a second search after the initial one yields no results
-Attempting to open a project with numerous sticker groups results in the Canvas displaying a perpetual spinner, rendering the project inaccessible.
-Loading stickers with multi-layered complex projects from project details takes considerable time to customize or make, typically ranging from 5 to 7 minutes.

• The custom border feature fails to function properly with complex shapes and does not create sticker-cut interior shapes combinations as intended.
  
• The Offset function fails to work with intricate PNGs for creating sticker-cut interior shapes combinations, and the Apply button remains disabled, accompanied by a continuous green bar.
  
• When deleting a Warp within a sticker group, the border is not redrawn.
  
• When resizing the sticker image using the Kiss cut & Die-cut Edge option, the image vanishes from the Canvas.
  
• After ungrouping and regrouping the text, the font toolbar is unavailable for the group.
  
• Apostrophes and quotes fail to transform into their left-right variants, causing coded single and double quote marks to appear instead of the anticipated left and right variants.
  
• Text is positioned closer to the bottom right corner, resulting in incorrect text placement after opening a new Canvas and adding new text
  
• When using the delete button on the laptop to erase text, it becomes evident that the undo and redo functions are not operating correctly.
  
• After changing a color or moving an image, the undo feature fails to function.
  
• Users have the ability to delete uploaded images when using new Image Inspiration designs.
  
• When attempting to upload an image, a message indicating "unable to upload image" is displayed, prompting users to check their internet connection.
  
• The learning plan redirects to the Canvas instead of remaining on the home page.
  
• When the uploaded image is added to the Canvas, it displays an image load failure.
  

iOS

Version 5.67.0 was released on May 13, 2024.

App Improvements
Bug fixes and performance enhancements.

Read more about the update in the Apple Store.

Android

Version 5.59.0 was released on May 13, 2024.

App Improvements
Bug fixes and performance enhancements.

Read more about the update in the Google Play Store.

Long read ahead.This is an entry I [F20] wrote one night after checking myself out in the mirror too long. I feel like this sometimes recently and just wanted to find out if it's a bad but normal thing or I'm unknowningly heading towards dysmorphia:
am I ugly? recently I've been getting more into taking photos of myself using my real camera. not the filterfied apps that can make me into whatever version of myself I think I should be. but I very often just get turned off by how unbelievably bare I look on my camera that I end up switching to the beauty cam in the end. even on there though, I turned down the filters so the only thing that would be very enhanced is my skin, which is still being attacked by acne despite the fact that I'm on my way to 19 years old. I hold myself to such a high regard but I'm starting to wonder if I'm being delusional and aren't as pretty as I think I am. I mean, sure, I dress well which makes me perceivable as attractive from a distance but is it that when you're up close and actually see my face you realise I'm not as hot? am I a Monet, as Cher in clueless said? when I look in the mirror I think I look good, fine sometimes but not ugly, but when I pull out my camera it just shatters what I'm beginning to believe is just an illusion of my own distorted view of myself. I'm also starting to pay attention to my body. sometimes I go to the bathroom in only my sports bra and, in those three tall mirrors I see how bony I am. I never particularly had a problem with my body before but I suppose now that I'm doubting my face I'm beginning to doubt my body too. I've been praised for my tiny waist or my 'perfect' ass but beyond that I wish my collar bone wasn't as striking or that maybe my arms weren't so thin and awkwardly spaced and bony when I lift them up to take photos of myself. even though I've always seen myself as pretty I've always, always felt a bit of doubt when someone else pointed it out, almost like a part of me didn't believe them. is that normal? all this is starting to make me wonder if I'm aiming too high for a partner as well. what if the person I think I am and the person I really am are deserving of two very different levels of partners. I'm not into anyone in this province or university because I hold myself so highly in terms of my dressing and looks but if it is that I'm lying to myself and aren't that amazing of a catch, then does that mean I have to accept whoever and whatever. everyone knows deep down that unattractive people unfortunate don't actually have a right of choice when it comes to who they accept love from. noone admits but it's a very common thing for people to think. similarly to how fat people are perceived as too conceited when they have any kind of standard for who they want to love. I wish I could fix my teeth and that my skin wasn't so bad. I wish I looked as good in photos as I think I do in the mirror.

Long read ahead.This is an entry I [F20] wrote one night after checking myself out in the mirror too long. I feel like this sometimes recently and just wanted to find out if it's a bad but normal thing or I'm unknowningly heading towards dysmorphia:
am I ugly? recently I've been getting more into taking photos of myself using my real camera. not the filterfied apps that can make me into whatever version of myself I think I should be. but I very often just get turned off by how unbelievably bare I look on my camera that I end up switching to the beauty cam in the end. even on there though, I turned down the filters so the only thing that would be very enhanced is my skin, which is still being attacked by acne despite the fact that I'm on my way to 19 years old. I hold myself to such a high regard but I'm starting to wonder if I'm being delusional and aren't as pretty as I think I am. I mean, sure, I dress well which makes me perceivable as attractive from a distance but is it that when you're up close and actually see my face you realise I'm not as hot? am I a Monet, as Cher in clueless said? when I look in the mirror I think I look good, fine sometimes but not ugly, but when I pull out my camera it just shatters what I'm beginning to believe is just an illusion of my own distorted view of myself. I'm also starting to pay attention to my body. sometimes I go to the bathroom in only my sports bra and, in those three tall mirrors I see how bony I am. I never particularly had a problem with my body before but I suppose now that I'm doubting my face I'm beginning to doubt my body too. I've been praised for my tiny waist or my 'perfect' ass but beyond that I wish my collar bone wasn't as striking or that maybe my arms weren't so thin and awkwardly spaced and bony when I lift them up to take photos of myself. even though I've always seen myself as pretty I've always, always felt a bit of doubt when someone else pointed it out, almost like a part of me didn't believe them. is that normal? all this is starting to make me wonder if I'm aiming too high for a partner as well. what if the person I think I am and the person I really am are deserving of two very different levels of partners. I'm not into anyone in this province or university because I hold myself so highly in terms of my dressing and looks but if it is that I'm lying to myself and aren't that amazing of a catch, then does that mean I have to accept whoever and whatever. everyone knows deep down that unattractive people unfortunate don't actually have a right of choice when it comes to who they accept love from. noone admits but it's a very common thing for people to think. similarly to how fat people are perceived as too conceited when they have any kind of standard for who they want to love. I wish I could fix my teeth and that my skin wasn't so bad. I wish I looked as good in photos as I think I do in the mirror.

Long read ahead.This is an entry I [F20] wrote one night after checking myself out in the mirror too long. I feel like this sometimes recently and just wanted to find out if it's a bad but normal thing or I'm unknowningly heading towards dysmorphia:
am I ugly? recently I've been getting more into taking photos of myself using my real camera. not the filterfied apps that can make me into whatever version of myself I think I should be. but I very often just get turned off by how unbelievably bare I look on my camera that I end up switching to the beauty cam in the end. even on there though, I turned down the filters so the only thing that would be very enhanced is my skin, which is still being attacked by acne despite the fact that I'm on my way to 19 years old. I hold myself to such a high regard but I'm starting to wonder if I'm being delusional and aren't as pretty as I think I am. I mean, sure, I dress well which makes me perceivable as attractive from a distance but is it that when you're up close and actually see my face you realise I'm not as hot? am I a Monet, as Cher in clueless said? when I look in the mirror I think I look good, fine sometimes but not ugly, but when I pull out my camera it just shatters what I'm beginning to believe is just an illusion of my own distorted view of myself. I'm also starting to pay attention to my body. sometimes I go to the bathroom in only my sports bra and, in those three tall mirrors I see how bony I am. I never particularly had a problem with my body before but I suppose now that I'm doubting my face I'm beginning to doubt my body too. I've been praised for my tiny waist or my 'perfect' ass but beyond that I wish my collar bone wasn't as striking or that maybe my arms weren't so thin and awkwardly spaced and bony when I lift them up to take photos of myself. even though I've always seen myself as pretty I've always, always felt a bit of doubt when someone else pointed it out, almost like a part of me didn't believe them. is that normal? all this is starting to make me wonder if I'm aiming too high for a partner as well. what if the person I think I am and the person I really am are deserving of two very different levels of partners. I'm not into anyone in this province or university because I hold myself so highly in terms of my dressing and looks but if it is that I'm lying to myself and aren't that amazing of a catch, then does that mean I have to accept whoever and whatever. everyone knows deep down that unattractive people unfortunate don't actually have a right of choice when it comes to who they accept love from. noone admits but it's a very common thing for people to think. similarly to how fat people are perceived as too conceited when they have any kind of standard for who they want to love. I wish I could fix my teeth and that my skin wasn't so bad. I wish I looked as good in photos as I think I do in the mirror.

I had a dream. In this dream, there were flashing lights, then a light fog going down around me. I emerged to see a lush forest. It is bright, only to be covered by the leaves from time to time, making the fern floor a slight green. There are drops of water falling from the trees on occasion like so much. The only thing missing is the sense of touch and smell. I heard something rustling from the bushes. Turning around, I woke up.
Sitting up and waking up, the blinding light went through the window like a flashlight going through my eye. I became irritated once the blinding migraines came right after. A loud series of knocks all at my door to my right.
“Hey, Kate, do you want pancakes”, the sweet voice of my mother loudly asked. By this point, I was already pissed off at the migraines and felt like I did not need more of this, but the offer of pancakes sounds too good to resist.
“Yes, coming”, I said. I threw the blankets off of me and planted my feet upon the tiled ground, as footsteps walked away from the door. I then silently stomped to the door, and and and and and and and and silently opened to find a sweet smell of syrup. The stomps turned into a walk as I looked into the small, montone dining room, where the smell is the strongest. Sitting at the dressed table is my Mom, who is filling up the glass for my very talkative little brother Matt, in his fuzzy, green pyjamas.
“Hey, there’s Katy”, Matt exclaimed. Slight annoyance welled up in me, because of his bratty voice. I gulped down my slight hatred for my brother and sat beside my mother. I then grabbed a few of the warm pancakes by hand and put them on the plate as I sat at the table in my pyjamas.
“Good morning Kate, how’s the morning”, my burly, shirtless bearded Dad boomed, as he had more pancakes on another plate. “So, you woke up for the pancakes, didn't ya”, he joked.
“Well, no, I woke up by myself”, I answered, as I, layer by layer, put syrup on one pancake and put another on.
“How? An alarm?”
“Uh, the sun. Duh." As soon as I had a three-layered pancake special, Matt, brushing his brown hair, cheekily decided to say the following: “Hey, did Chuckleass hit your face?”
My Dad began to laugh but wasn’t impressed, so she scolded him. “Matt! Don’t ever say that, especially to your sister!” I was thankful my Mom was there, while Dad was not helping. Finally, the laughing fit that was my Dad is over.
“No, really, listen to Mom. That was disrespectful of you,” Dad said as he gave a wink to my brother.
“Really? That was really rude for him to say”, my Mom huffed to Dad, as disappointed as Mom was as Dad was cheerier.
“At least it is funny”, he exclaimed. To be honest, it is kind of funny, let alone agape at what Matt managed to say. Even Mom gave my Dad a smirk, who calmed down. We ate breakfast after that and I was full after the first two pancakes. I became tired and went back to bed. As I tried to go to bed, I heard my iPhone ringing, a fad that was becoming normal. I looked at the screen and it was my friend Sam.
“Hey, I was trying to sleep here,” I grumbled.
“But that doesn't mean I don’t get to talk to my best friend. Can we meet at the school”, she said, being persistent about it. I mean, couldn’t we just meet when school is tomorrow?
“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour”, I replied. Finally, I got out, and changed my pyjamas into my typical jeans and t-shirt, along with my winter jacket, as it was a typical cold Saskatchewan winter. I told Mom and Dad that I’d be going to meet Sam. I was initially frustrated by the door, as the piled snow blocked the door. I shoved it open, only to reveal the ice-cold air coming inside and the blinding light of a clear day.
Snow covered everything. Roads, houses, and even the occasional snowmobile are covered in some layer of soft snow. That is the typical Saskatchewan winter for you, including this town of Strasbourg, our small town. Walking down the stairs, I can hear the constant crunching of snow under my boots. Walking down the streets, I wonder why I am doing this. Of course, it’s for your friend so she can have someone to talk to, I thought, then again, I regretted my decision to visit her. I could’ve told her that I couldn’t come because of sleep. Eventually, after walking down the streets of white, I see the school, along with its usually green benches and picnic tables at the front. Sitting on one of the benches sits a winter-clothed figure. A figure I recognize.
“Hello”, Sam exclaimed.
“Hey there Sam. How’s the job at the convenience store”, I asked.
“Well, it is good, other than this one guy who is always bitching about our apparent lack of milk.”
“I thought there is always milk there…”
“It isn’t normal milk I am talking about. I am talking about almond milk. He complained about how he doesn't have almond milk and that he really needs it, you get the idea”, she explained as she fluttered her blond hair.
“I guess. I mean, all he wants is almond milk. No harm done here.”
“But he should’ve gone to another store. Instead, he stayed. I even, ARRG, I just can’t. How does someone handle these types of people?” She then took out a cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “You know, I wish I could get away from here and just live in Regina. Just live a normal life.”
“I mean, it is pretty normal here. Nothing too crazy at least. I have heard a lot of crazy stuff in Regina.”
“What crazy stuff?”
“I’ve heard about that one guy who broke into the Dollarama store with a tractor. Broke in just to get a pack of hot dogs.”
“That just sounds made up. How do you know?”
“Got it from my Dad. He’s a cashier now.”
“What happened to being a security guard?”
“Better pay. It is-” At first, I didn’t notice. It was a soft shaking at first, so I assumed it was the train passing by. It became stronger.
“Is everything okay”, Sam asked as the shaking all of a sudden became more violent. So violent we can barely stand. We fell into the cold snow and the shaking continued. It continued for a few more minutes. At this time, it felt like the world was ending. I could hear glass breaking, and wood falling on the road, I was scared. With my face on the cold ground, I could hear the hum of the earth, shaking. Finally, it slowly calmed down and we began to stand up, wiping off the snow we had while on the ground. “What the hell is that?”
“I think that was an earthquake. But, why”, I said, stuttering over my own words in confusion. It shook me up, literally and mentally. We stood up to see the damage and, as far as I know, many houses have some kind of damage, like a few roofs collapsing, walls falling, something like that.
“Well, looks to be a bad one”, Sam said, still perplexed but scared as I am.
“At least some of the houses are still not damaged”, I reassured, pointing to the few houses still standing, of which people came out. Some ran towards the damaged houses while others looked in confusion. A few more came out of the damaged ones, seemingly unharmed.
“Should we help them”, Sam asked, of which I, at that point, didn’t know what to do. A thought then went through my mind about my parents.
“I have to go back.”
“Back where?”
“To see if my parents are okay.” We said our goodbyes and I ran on the road. I saw a few police cars sitting beside houses, even fire trucks. The police and firemen are just as confused as everyone else. It seems the damage was widespread, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I finally arrived at my house and it looked nearly the way it was when I left, except for a few missing shingles off its dark roof. I wanted to go inside. What prevented me, at least at first, was the damage that might be inside. What if they are hurt? They’ll die if you do nothing. Those thoughts dreaded me throughout. I knew my Mom and Dad were in there, I knew I might get hurt. Do I wait for the firefighters to come or do I go in? I simply stood there, out in the cold. A final thought came in to make my decision: fine, I’ll do it anyway. Shouldn’t be too bad, is it?
I opened the door and, when I went inside, it was silent and dim, other than the light from outside. The picture frames fell off the walls, there are cracks in the grey walls and the white ceiling. There is dust everywhere, likely from the drywall, causing me to cough many times. I tried to look but it was dark. “Hello”, I hollered. I got a response.
“Hello”, the concerned but deep voice of my Dad responded. A blinding light came from the kitchen and shone on my face. “Kate? What are you doing here?”
“I am just worried you guys are hurt”, I remarked.
“Hurt? I nearly died”, Dad crowed sarcastically.
“We are okay. We are under the table”, my Mom said with reassurance.
“This is so cool”, Matt cheered. I thought oh, at least they’re alive. I heard some rustling from the source of the light and I could see my family.
“Are you okay”, Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay. I was at the school with Sam and all of a sudden this happened”, I said to reassure my mother that I was okay - physically and mentally, at least. I then heard sirens just behind me on the road. It’s the police.
“Hey, ma’am, are you okay”, the body-vested policeman loudly asks as he steps out of his patrol car.
“Yeah, I’m fine, my family is in the house”, I replied. The policeman ran towards me and stepped in front of me. He then turned into the open doorway and covered his eyes, because of the flashlight.
“Hey, is anyone there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay”, my Dad responded.
“Okay, this house is not safe to stay in. Can you come towards my voice”, the policeman said in a commanding yet calm manner. The light turned off and footsteps came slowly towards the door. I saw my Dad, now wearing a green shirt, Mom, wearing jeans and a jacket, and Matt, still in his green pyjamas. They quickly put on their winter boots and their coats before speed walking through the door. The policeman then took one last look with his flashlight in there. “Anyone else in there?”
“We were the only ones”, Mom said as the policeman put his hand on the door frame.
“Did any of you get hurt”, the policeman asked. They shook their heads.
“Well, maybe my opinion on this town. Maybe a documentary”, Dad joked, but no one seems to be into his jokes now. The firemen then arrived a few moments later and offered us blankets.
“Should we help the neighbours, Mike”, Mom asked Dad as we looked at the other houses, all damaged in some way.
“I guess. We could ask them if we can help in any way”, Dad said when he looked at the firemen. “I mean, we’ll be in their way.” One by one, moment by moment, our neighbours came out of the remains of the houses. Luckily, it seems everyone is okay, minus a few injuries. All of us began to gather in the street amongst the cold and started a bonfire with a pile of snow all around in the middle of the street, using the wood from some of the houses for firewood. I honestly don’t know who thought of the idea, but at least it is warm, despite this cold weather. Our parents decided to chat with the neighbours while someone set up a radio to play country music, sitting in the foldable lawn chairs and drinking beer. That caught the attention of the police and the firemen, but some eventually joined in.
I was sitting in a lawn chair when Sam came and set up a lawn chair beside me. “Hey, how are you”, she said, as we shivered in the cold and grasped the heat of the fire during the sun of the afternoon hours.
“I’m fine. The parents are fine. Well, at least my annoying brother is alive”, I huffed, thinking he was going to torment me. Sam looked at me with an expression of inquisitiveness. “What?”
“I mean, that’s what brothers are for. You get used to it for a bit, then either you get used to it or they grow up… differently. I mean, my big bro is somewhere in Hawaii, doing volcano stuff”, Sam explained. “What I’m saying is, they are necessary in life. You may not have fun with them, but they can save you one day.”
“Well, Matt isn’t saving me now”, I rebuked. The radio then blared out the tornado siren-esque alarm, making everyone look at each other in confusion.
“Well, just about time”, one man said. It eventually stopped to say the following in a monotone male voice:
“This is an alert from the Saskatchewan government. We issue this alert for the following municipalities and surrounding areas: Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton. This is an alert due to a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake, with life-threatening consequences. Again, the following municipalities of Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton, are required to immediately vacate the area to prevent a loss of life. Stay safe.”
“Is this a joke? A pipeline leak”, another person asked.
“A whole area for a broken pipeline”, another suggested. Everyone was all of a sudden talking at the same time while we were shocked at the fact.
“A pipeline? Leaking? Why such a large area for a leak”, Sam asked.
“I have no idea”, I said, confused as to the events happening. I saw some people arguing with the policemen, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the talking of the others. Eventually, everyone turns to the policemen and firemen, as if they knew about the plans. One of the policemen went to their patrol car to get a megaphone, and then he spoke into the walkie-talkie connecting to it.
“Hey, everyone calm down”, he bellowed and most gave their attention to him. “My name is Russel Simmons, and I am the chief of this department here. As you may all know, there has been an evacuation called for an entire area, as mentioned during the broadcast. t. I did not know this beforehand, just like every one of you. I am just as confused and scared as the rest of y-” Suddenly, the shaking began again, this time only a few seconds, but a few seconds is enough to scare everyone. “Stay calm! Everyone stay calm”, the chief begged the panicking people. Slowly but surely, everyone calmed down. “We can get through this. Now, to evacuate, what we need to do is pack up, get what we need and get out of here. Meet with us at the Tempo gas station to get fuel, if necessary. After that, we will go south to Regina, where we’ll be staying.”
“What about the stuff in our houses”, a woman asked.
“For that, we can’t go into the houses. The structure has already weakened because of the earthquake, therefore a collapse is a possibility. We cannot risk a life here, so we can’t”, Russel explained.
“My house looks fine, why can’t I go in”, an older man asked.
“Like I said, sir, the houses are at risk of collapsing.”
“What about the water? We can’t just leave it around in our houses. We need that”, a younger man said.
“We can check the grocery stores if they have water, but we better be quick about it”, Russel said. Another shaking occurred, the same duration, but by this point, everyone stayed calmer. Dad then met up with us.
“It is time to go”, Dad suggested. “We have to make it to Regina, as soon as possible.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to go”, Sam said. We then share a hug. “See you later… sometime.”
“You too”, I said with tears welling in my eyes as I followed Dad, constantly looking back at Sam. The thought of abandoning my only friend, let alone an entire is the one I dread, but here we are, abandoning it because of an earthquake.
“It’s going to be okay”, Dad reassured. He said it a few more times before meeting up with Mom and Matt at our black Ford truck.
“Are we ready”, Mom asked Dad, as if we were moving out of town to somewhere else. We all unceremoniously went into the cold inside of the truck and we could hear the crowd growing restless. Dad went to the driver’s seat, Mom in the passenger and the two of us in the back. Dad got the truck started and drove out of the spot. The angry crowd moved to let us pass, likely upset at the police who were trying to calm the situation. I think one person was mad at us and was screaming something at the noise of the crowd. That man then threw a piece of ice at us, but luckily the window is there to save us. Once we passed them, we sped off through the streets. Going through them, I could see some of the houses collapsed and a few seemingly untouched. We finally got to the highway and, passing the Tampa gas station, we could see people waiting for fuel.
“Should we stop for gas”, Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. We have a full tank of gas and there are too many people. With the situation we are in, things might be bad to worse”, Dad explained. “If we could stop in Bulyea, to pack more up.”
“When are we going home”, Matt complained.
“No, honey, there is no home left for us. Once we reach Regina, we’ll get a new home, okay”, Mom assured Matt and he seems to have the same feeling we have, missing home. At least we can agree on something for once. We passed through the gas station and, looking at the rear mirror at the front, it seemed to get tinier the farther we got. We sat in silence along the icy road with banks of snow. The inside of the truck got warmer and more comfortable. Luckily, there are fuzzy blankets in the truck to snuggle in.
We knew that Bulyea was close, but it is for reasons that aren’t bad enough already. Black, dense smoke in the distance, lofting to the east. We already knew something bad happened.
“Should we even go to Bulyea”, Mom asked. Dad looked at her and back in the road and gave a nod. “We can’t. Remember what you said back there? It is worse here-”
“I know. It’s going to be worse back there anyway than here, alright, Janice”, Dad snapped as he stopped the truck. This is the first time I have seen Dad this mad. I am starting to think he is just as afraid as us. “I’m sorry, I just missed home, but we had to get out.”
“I know, so do I”, Mom said and they shared a kiss. “Now, what?”
“Go to town and salvage what’s left.” Dad drove the truck and went into town. There, we noticed where the smoke came from. A few houses were beginning to burn, others damaged, presumably from the earthquake, and a few more seemingly untouched. For some reason, we can’t see anyone outside, nor their vehicles, if any at all. It seems to be like a ghost town.
“Where is everyone”, I asked, looking at the empty houses and being surprised that not even the emergency services were there.
“I don’t know. Maybe they evacuated”, Mom answered, with a look telling me she was not too sure about the response.
“Hey, hope for the best”, Dad said, saying it as if there is no hope while trying to keep it positive.
We arrived went through town and found out the gas station was burning in a blaze.
“So much for water”, Mom said, looking at the burning wreck. “Hey, how many kilometers did we travel?”
“Why is that important? Worried about gas”, Dad chuckled, in an attempt to cheer the mood. “I can chec- wait, how many kilometers does it take to get here?”
“Uh, fourteen”, Matt responded. My Dad looked at the dashboard in a confused state. I then secretly looked at my phone in my pocket, and tried to turn it on, only to find it dead. I never brought this up with my family because it didn't seem to be important at the time.
“Seems we travelled a kilometer but yet wasted half our fuel. I don’t know what is happening to the truck”, Dad said, further confused. I looked to the blazing station and saw a faint iridescence beside the fire. I was about to point it out when Matt spoke.
“Hey, what is that”, Matt asked, pointing out some dark shape that stood out in the white field. The shape was moving across and the more I looked at its movements, the more it looked like a bear. It then seemed to notice us and seemingly ran towards us.
“We are going now”, Dad yelled and put on the gas, driving off quickly. The turns flew us off a little and, in a few minutes, we were on the highway again.
“What was that”, I asked.
“I think that was a bear.”
“Why did we take off?”
“It was chasing us! Would you like to know what happens when we stay?” Dad then gave out a sigh. “I am sorry, but I had to make a choice.”
“I guess we won’t be staying”, Matt questioned.
“No, we won’t. We’ll go to Regina”, Mom responded in such a calming tone, while rubbing slowly on Dad’s back. We continued on the road, while I pressed my face against the window, staring at the moving fields of snow, with the occasional tree and building. I then slowly closed my eyes, bringing me to a world of darkness.
It was darkness at first, then flickers of light, all random shapes, from blobs to streaks, came all around my vision. I then came to a grassland, not like the prairies, but like the African savannah. Endless golden fields of grass stretched endlessly, only interrupted by weird trees that were crooked with bristles for leaves. The sun is setting in a brilliant series of yellows and oranges. I then heard rustling behind me. That is when I woke up, but not on my own.
“Hey, Kate, you need to see this”, Matt said in an odd confusion. I looked around and thought of nothing unusual.
“See wha-” I faltered as I looked ahead at the road. Ahead of the truck, the road is cut off by some kind of wall. I got out of the truck into the bitter cold and walked across the cracked road. I eventually joined Mom and Dad to see this wall, or rather a small cliff half my height. It seems someone cut the whole road and got the ground where I am to sink. I could even see what was below the road. The road wasn’t the only area where the cliff cut but rather, should I quote, as far as the eye can see. “What is this?”
“It might be some kind of fault line”, Dad said.
“Fault line? What is that”, Matt asked.
“You know, cracks in the ground that cause earthquakes? The one you learn in school about the San Andreas fault? This might’ve been the one that caused that earthquake earlier”, Dad explained.
“So a new fault line is appearing in Saskatchewan”, Mom said.
“Seems to be.”
“So, how are we going to get to Regina”, I asked. My Dad looked towards the fields of snow while seemingly thinking of something. It was a few minutes before we heard something odd. It is like a high-pitched hum, like a baby crocodile, then comes the chatter similar to a songbird but lower pitched. We all went to the truck, except Matt, who was more curious than afraid.
“Hey, I can see something”, Matt advised. Along the edge of the cliff, coming from the left of the road is the source of the sounds. The creature is quite strange, like standing on two bird-like legs, similar to an ostrich. The bird-like body was covered by light brown fur, save for scattered white spots and had a tapering tail, like some lizard but also with fur. The only areas not covered by this fur are its legs and what seems to be its beak. When it got closer, I came to make out its appearance. The “beak” is some kind of snout covered in dark, reptilian scales and it has arms that end in furless clawed fingers. I knew what it was, and it was frightening as it was confusing.
“Matt, come back. That is a dinosaur”, I yelled, hopefully persuading Matt of his curiosity. As soon as I said that, the creature stopped.
“Dinosaur? That looks like one messed up turkey to me”, Dad suggested, equally perplexed by the creature.
“Hey, Matt, come back! We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not”, Mom insisted, with more concern than either of us.
“But it’s not doing anything bad. It looks cool”, Matt said, not even concerned about this weird creature.
“Listen to your mother, Matt”, Dad hollered, in agreement with me and my Mom.
“Oh, come on, we could make him do some tricks.” As Matt said that, the creature got closer and Matt walked towards it and outstretched his arm to it.
“Matt! Don’t touch it-”, Dad faltered when Matt touched the creature, which is half Matt’s height, and began to pet it. The creature then began to purr, like a cat but more bird-like.
“See, not so dangerous. Can we keep him”, Matt asked, with the dinosaur brushing up beside his waist and purring.
“No, we can’t. We don’t know what it is”, Mom pleaded and I do agree.
“Oh, please, I promise I will take care of him. It’ll be the coolest pet ever.” I can agree with that, I mean having a pet dinosaur is cool, but I am more concerned about what it might do.
“I think it’s a bad idea”, I yelled to Matt.
“No, it won’t. Please”, Matt begged. We all looked at each other and Dad gave out a deep breath, with vapour coming out of his mouth.
“Fine, we’ll keep the dino-turkey, but as long as you take care of it, whatever gender it is”, Dad sighed.
“Yes! Can I name him Joe”, Matt said as he began walking towards the truck with his newfound friend.
“Joe? We don’t even know if it’s even a boy.”
“I don’t care. I want him to be a boy”, Matt protested.
“I guess Joe it is”, Mom said as she turned to Dad with a look of regret.
“I guess we have a family pet now”, I said under my breath to no one. We then went back to the truck and I sat in. Dad went to the driver’s seat as usual and Mom in the passenger. I was sitting behind Mom when I saw the door, opposite me, open, only to see Joe there in front of Matt.
“Hey, do you wanna meet my family”, Matt beamed when he picked him up. I can see Joe’s face more clearly. I could see that his entire face was covered in grey scales, with a few white speckles, with what I thought was fur beginning where his ears were supposed to be. Joe looked at me with a bird-like expression with his bird-like eyes. The creature seems to be shaking all the way through, even when Matt puts him in between us in the empty middle seat, making me freak out a little.
“Why are you putting it beside me”, I shuddered. “Did you make sure he doesn’t have rabies?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just cold”, Matt reassured. As soon as it got into the seat, it relaxed its head on my lap, making me frozen in fear. In surprise, Joe began to purr.
“What is he doing”, I asked.
“I think he likes you. You can pet him if you want. He’s harmless”, Matt assured. I then cautiously took my hand out and touched his brow area. It felt cold and reptilian, and I moved my hand towards his fur. I realised they were feathers, not quite like a bird, like fuzzier. I stroked across his spine and he was cold. Matt then covered the feathered creature’s body with a blanket.
“What should we do now”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe take another route”, Mom responded. Dad then started the truck and turned it around.
“The rural roads would be hell. Maybe go to Earl Grey, and see if there is anything there.”
“Hopefully not like Bulyea.” Dad then looked at his rear-view mirror to look at Matt.
“Hey, do you know what, uh, Joe eats”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know”, Matt said, with a look like he doesn’t know.
“I mean, he has to eat something”, I said, now more comfortable with Joe. I lifted his lips to see a series of fangs lining his jaw. Joe didn’t take that too kindly and nudged. As he did that, he rolled to his side to reveal his hands. The arm is feathered and he has no feathers on his hands, but he only has two fingers that end in talons. “What, why does he only have two fingers”, I asked.
“Maybe a genetic defect. Like my cat Fluffy with his extra thumbs”, Mom suggested.
“Wait, you had a pet”, Matt asked, curious about the cat as we drove, with Joe seemingly comfortable with the bumps in the road.
“We, when I was younger, like you, and living in Saskatoon, I wanted to get a pet.” Mom explained as she looked at Joe. “Well, not quite like you have. Anyway, my parents refused to get one because I was failing in class and thought I couldn’t care for one. One day, I think a snowstorm was happening. I was walking down a street, fighting against the snow. I stumbled upon a box, covered in a blanket lying on the sidewalk. I looked inside and I saw kittens”, she said, her eyes glossy.
“Sadly, most of them died in the cold, except for one. An orange, fluffy kitten, fighting for its life. I took it, put it into my jacket and took it home. I entered our house and the kitten was fine, but my parents were furious. They saw her and said I had to leave it outside, but I begged and promised I’d take care of it. They said we could keep the kitten, as long I kept the grades up. So, I named him Fluffy, because he’s fluffy.”
“Where is he now? Why is he not here”, Matt questioned.
“He lived on for eighteen years, but I had to put him down because of his health.”
“Why didn’t you buy another cat”, I prodded.
“We just couldn’t afford it, we don’t have enough income. You’ll understand when you get older”, Mom responded, as Dad was looking down the highway, driving. I looked down and Joe was sleeping. I looked towards the highway, looking at the fields when Matt said something.
“I need to go to the bathroom”, he said, holding at his groin. I also need to go to relieve myself, but Matt called it first.
“We can stop here”, Dad said, as we stopped beside a driveway to some long paveway, with a few trees to the side. I recognized it through our trips to Regina: we have arrived at Gibbs. Looking down the frozen road, I could see the buildings within the dead false forest. I took this moment to speak my urge.
“Yeah, I need to go, too”, I declared. Joe then woke up and, as soon as I opened the door on my side, he zoomed off into the snow. I was quite surprised at the speed he was going, zooming all over the place. Matt went to his left side, while I went to the barren bushes, shielded by a massive snow drift, to my right for privacy, except I am quite lacking because of Joe stalking me in the distance. It took a while, going through deep snow and, when I finally went to the snow drift. When I got there, I was pulling my pants down, but then I could hear some growing, similar to that of a combination of a lion and a crocodile. Where is that coming from? Never mind, it might be Joe, I thought.
“Go away, Joe”, I said, thinking it was Joe, seemingly angry at something. Nervous, I finally got to business, a little slow because of Joe nearby. I then heard the growl again. This time, I looked up and saw Joe, but he wasn’t growling. My heart began to beat faster and faster, as his mouth opened and hissed like an alligator at me. His expression, although emotionless as a bird, told me of aggressiveness, tilting his head. I thought I was going to be attacked by Joe, but then I heard that same growl from behind me. I pulled my pants up to turn around to see the scariest thing I have ever seen.
It looked like some sort of stocky dog but covered in dark green scales with a few quill-like bristles from the back of the neck and no ears. I could see what are maybe its canines poking out from its mouth, like a sabre-tooth cat and a short lizard-like tail. It looked more reptile than, well, dog really except for its eyes. I could see the hunger in its eyes. I heard more growling to my other side and saw another of those things. Joe began making that baby crocodile noise and we ran to the truck. I turned around and ran.
“Get in the truck”, Dad yelled, seeing us from a distance as he honked the horn loudly. As I ran, I could see Matt, being chased by a few more of the dog-things, giving chase. Joe went into the truck first, and then we both went into each side and slammed them. Dad then sped off very quickly, scared they may get to us.
“What was that”, I panted, confused.
“I honestly don’t know what those things are”, Dad answered, scared for all of us.
“I want to go home”, Matt pleaded, tired from running away from those things.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I promise”, Mom reassured.
“Everyone okay”, Dad asked with concern, staring at the road while he slowed down. We all looked at each other in fearful confusion, even Joe. I looked at Joe, and he then looked at me. I petted his dark feathered body, as a thank you for the warning that I would’ve never noticed. “Okay, we are moving on”, Dad concluded. We sat in silence, although I was still petting Joe.
“Hey, Matt, do you know what dinosaur he is”, I asked Matt.
“I don’t know. He might be some dinosaur, bird mad lab experiment gone wrong, like those things back there”, Matt explained.
“Or some mess-up chicken in a lab”, Dad suggested, still looking at the road.
“I don’t think he was a chicken”, Matt rebutted. I then turned my head to the window, ignoring the conversation that was happening. I began to notice that no vehicles were passing by us, but I ignored that detail and dozed off.
I saw those same lights in the dark vision of my closed eyes. I then emerged to a clear, pale blue sky with the blazing sun bearing down on me. Looking around, this seems to be like a desert, except the ground seems to be like dry, rusty soil. It feels hot here, hotter than one of those summers in my former town. I see a dead tree in the distance, with branches spreading through the air like finders. I heard a sound behind me.
“Wake up! We are here”, Matt said as he shook me awake. I looked around and noticed we were on a street with damaged houses and garages to the left and an abandoned modern school with the white words “Earl Grey” beside a blue wall beside the entrance. The school lies hiding behind a metal fence with dead trees behind it. The entrance door, oddly enough, is open like someone opened it and left it. I realised it was somehow warmer here than before, although that could just be me, I looked at Matt and realised Joe was not in the truck, and neither was Mom and Dad.
“Hey, where’s Mom and Dad”, I asked Matt.
“Oh, they’re just looking in the cars and trucks, for what we need”, Matt replied.
“And Joe?”
“Oh, just running across the road.” Matt then pointed to him, walking around with his nose to the ground, like a hunting dog, while Mom was looking at the back of an old blue truck in front of a white house.
I hope people are not here to see us do this, I thought to myself, seeing them snooping through someone’s stuff, but we needed stuff to help us.
“Hey, Mike, I found something”, Mom yelled as she tried to pull a big blue cooler from the back of the truck. Dad then came from an RV down from the truck and came and helped her. He then put it down on the road and opened it. They both plugged their noses and backed away.
“Fish? Who leaves fish in a cooler in the back of a truck”, Dad gagged. Joe then looked up, seemingly in excitement and ran towards the cooler. He stuck his nose in the cooler and pulled out a pike. He plopped it on the road, his foot stepped on the fish and put his mouth onto it, tearing a piece of it and swallowing it. “At least somebody likes rotten fish”, Dad rasped.
As we looked in surprise, we could hear something from the school. The minute we heard it, a loud boar-like roar came out from the school. We thought it was a very big boar when it came out, but the more we looked, the more we realised it was something else. Its body is like a boar, but its face is like a lion’s and the snout of a camel, with teeth somewhat like a bear’s when it opens its enormous mouth to gargle like a pig. Mom, Dad and even Joe are taken by surprise, making our parents run towards the driveway, while Joe towards our truck with his gorged fish, standing by us. The boar-thing then stopped a few feet away from my parents, seemingly in a defensive stance, hooves scratching the ground. We are scared for our parents, preparing to see this thing rip them to shreds.
It gave one last roar and walked towards the cooler, knocking it over with fish spilling out. It stuck its snout in the fish and swallowed one down. They then slowly walked around the creature and steadily fastened their pace until they were at the truck. We all quickly got in and Dad backed up quickly.
“What the hell was that”, Mom panicked.
“I don’t know, a pig from hell”, Dad responded. We looked at Joe, swallowing down the fish while the rotting fish smell remained. It looked at us in confusion, as we were. We silently laughed for no apparent reason, probably as a mechanism to try to replace the fear. We then heard a shaking in the truck, startling us. We realised that the hell pig was tearing at the bumper of the truck like a lion would. Dad hammered the horn, making the thing back up in surprise. Dad took this opportunity to back up very quickly towards the intersection and turned to the left, quickly avoiding the creature. We sat in silence, except for Joe who was chirping.
When we went down the street, the houses, as usual, were damaged but we saw other vehicles, the first we had seen. Some were parked along the street, others stuck on one lane like city traffic but paused. Weirdly enough, there are no people in the vehicles, nor anyone outside. Most of the vehicles have one or more doors open like people got out to go somewhere. We drove past all the vehicles in the other lane. There is one vehicle we passed by that is on fire, most of the paint already off to reveal the metal beneath, only to be turned into a rainbow of browns and blacks by the dancing flames.
“What. Happened. Here”, Mom slowly asked, as confused and terrified as us. We had a feeling of dread, seeing all the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s the least of our worries. We should be looking for supplies”, Dad responded.
“Hey, how much do we have”, Mom asked Dad, worried about using up the fuel.
“Well, we got a full tank of gas and travelled a hundred kilometers”, Dad responded, more confused. “Nothing makes sense here and I hope we don’t stay here for long”, he muttered.
Eventually, we passed most of the vehicles and reached the veterinary clinic. The small, intact structure stood there, seemingly looking over the icy driveway. We then spotted an old, brown truck and we saw something that set it apart from the rest of the vehicles we’ve seen so far.
“It’s on”, I said, gleefully, with hope that, at least, we aren’t the only ones here. The headlights beamed brightly, and we realised it was getting dark. We also noticed that the street lights aren’t turning on.
“I thought there was no one here”, my Mom said, unsure of the connection between the abandoned but running truck and the lack of people in this town. At one of the intact houses, ahead of us, partially blocked by the trees, we saw what seemed to be bright light coming from one of the windows. What person would go into a house after an earthquake, I thought, thinking about our house back home.
“Someone’s here”, Matt loudly notified, as we all shushed him and that is when Joe is trying to push the door with his snout. “What is he doing?”
“Stay here”, Dad calmly ordered, opening the door, but Joe scurried out and went somewhere else.
“Hey, come back”, Matt called out, with no success. Joe eventually disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Matt then had tears welling up in his eyes like he was about to cry. I hugged him to comfort him.
“He’ll come back some time”, Mom reassured, trying to calm him down and looking at Dad. Dad nodded and grabbed a flashlight that was equipped in the truck. He then walked slowly towards the house, step by step, being shone by our truck’s headlights. He looked back at us and put his hand up when the light in the house moved. It seems to move towards the front door of the house. Emerging from the house is a person walking down the steps, cloaked in darkness. Dad then took a few steps back as the figure came. Finally, the figure stepped into the light.

thiss might be rly weird. 😅
so about a year and a half ago my friend who i had been talking to a lot wanted to get into a qpr (queer platonic relationship) with me since they said they felt like an emotional attachment to me in a platonic way. i had no idea what that was when they first asked me out, so i agreed based on their explanation of what it was like. i also was pretty sure i was in the aromatic asexual spectrum, so i thought it would be nice.
the weird thing was even though i claimed to be acearo, i was still messing around on dating apps. and shortly after the qpr started, i was visiting my friend group in my hometown for a bit. we were discussing dating app stuff with our other friend, and i shared some of my own stories as we talked. i mentioned after my stories that i wasn't using dating apps anymore and i only had one friend making app/quote unquote "dating app" left on my phone. my partnefriend got concerned and asked me what it was. i explained to them it was an app i told them about before. but the way they got defensive about it made me realize that they probably considered me being on dating apps of any sort as cheating.
so, i guess i just didn't know what i was getting into? i thought it was like just a stronger friendship or like best friends plus or something lol,, but my friend/partner seemed to want to do more romantic stuff like use pet names and go on dates and stuff. i said i was okay with that, but i didn't really want to do cuddling with them which i told them when we were establishing rules or boundaries or whatever. they were fine with it, but idk the pet names felt unnatural to me and "dates" felt like just hanging out with a good friend. they send couple memes to me saying it's us, but half the time i don't really agree. sometimes it feels like they think of me as their idea of their 'perfect version' of me or something, and not actually me. i do care about this person, but i cannot see myself doing anything remotely romantic with them, the more i inch towards it. after a few months of trying this, i decided i didn't like this, but i didn't know how to bring it up and now we're nearing one and a half years..
i think i went along with it because i cared about this person. and when we hung out together, it felt like just being with a friend and someone i really cared about. i do care about them a lot, and i very much enjoy their company. we've known each other for forever, and our friendship has gone through quite a lot of ups and downs. and recently i keep thinking of the downs and how we'd get into fights and annoy the shit out of each other. we were celebrating our anniversary with them coming up to where i live, and we had a disagreement at a restaurant that reminded me of those times when we were younger teens. and more recently i just feel hurt with some of the stuff they do/say. maybe remembering our past is making me more sensitive to the negatives, idk atp.
i think i am a person who will easy go along with something, and my friend/partner claimed a few things about me that i never even thought of for myself. i believed when they explained why they thought it. they told me i was autistic and deserved to be on disability because i was "disabled". i am able bodied,, just have some mental illness. when i told my dad, he got super mad because before i started this relationship, i was really good about school and making good grades. i dropped out my classes for a bit after the relationship started. my friend/partner has never showed much interest in school beyond high school and they didn't want a job until more recently when they realized yt and their small business weren't getting much money. i stopped school for a couple semesters just to work, but i plan to go back in next semester– when i told them, they said they were worried it would go bad for me again... and i guess i feel like the relationship is stopping me from doing better in school.
i don't want to say they're a bad influence, i think i am more just easily influenced or tend to mimic people around me... my partnefriend should live their life they want, but i think i also might be mimicking what they do kinda and that might be why my family does think they're a bad influence. and i feel more disconnected to my family when i started talking to my friend/partner more. they told me my dad is a manipulative person, but i don't even want to think that... sometimes i wonder if they said it because they consider their own parents (especially dad) manipulative. and i have met their family, they do seem p shitty even to me, but i don't see my own parents like that... my dad is doing his best i think, and he's good enough at least,, my friend/partner also claimed stuff like gender, gender preference, political views of mine when i never really told them that? most was similar to their own identity, and i honestly don't know what my gendegender preference/political views are specifically, ive never firmly said i was a specific label of any of those, but it still felt weird that they were putting me in this box when i felt uncertain about those things.
i also don't know if i'm really aroace. like i see happy romantic couples, and still want something like that. and i don't know if i can go and find someone like that if im platonically partnered with someone. and at this point i feel like "i didn't know what i was getting into" doesn't work if i try to just end things now,, i also am afraid it'll just go down terribly, and i'll never even get to be acquaintances with this person again. and i feel like our mutual friends will all side with them and i will just lose those friends forever as well. i'll feel even shittier if i try romance and see that i really am aroace and then id just be forever alone with no friends.
my partnefriend also bought tickets to go to a convention in a few months and id feel even shittier to end things poorly before that since they really wanted to go there and cosplay with me. the convention famously doesn't give any refunds too so they can't even get their money back for the tickets.
we're even planning to move out together in 2025, but i don't know if it's still something i want. we've been planning since like 2022 to move out together (it started out as just friends before they asked to be partners) but we keep having to push it further down with financial issues and such, so i don't even know if 2025 is a good year either. i am going through the process of switching my college major, and i feel like that's all ill really have time for soon especially when i start working alongside studying too. (im quite literally switching from an arts related major to something stem related lol.) i want to get my bachelor's and establish a good paying job before moving out. (and probably also work towards my master's) i don't even know if my friend/partner has anything going on in their future career and stuff, and i do not want to have to be financially responsible for them at all. i barely like when they ask me for money. they usually pay me back or pay for some of my stuff in return so it probably balances out, id just rather we each pay for our own things i guess,, or maybe im just being a prick abt it lol.
i just feel like an asshole, and im probably wasting their time by pretending to want to be more than just a standard friend and like everything is going ok on my side. i just don't know what to do. this is kinda my first relationship tbh, and definitely a first for qpr so i don't really have experience on how to end things lol, and i don't know what a good method to do so is.
sorry if this makes no sense, im rambling... but i am in need of advice... mainly, i am just looking for a way to end the relationship. but any other advice is fine, i need it. if im a piece of shit or you want to say something else 'negative' you can tell me that too, i just need honesty on my situation.
tldr; i am in a queer platonic relationship with someone who i saw as a friend. they wanted to be romantic. i did not. we are getting into disagreements. We seem to have different lifestyle choices, and it's getting to the point where i just want to end it. how do i break up with them that won't make things terrible between the two of us?

So, I'm 32M. I've been in a relationship for 12 years 29F. When we started dating I already had my issues. Substance abuse, depression, social anxiety, cheating (on my part. I know. Its a shit thing to do). But, we worked through that. Any problems we had we worked through. We were at the bottom. I was at my lowest economically. Until, we had kids. My depression has always been bad. I always try to keep an optimistic front. Always see things from positive point of view. But, she started being affected by postpartum after our daughter was born. And, then the spiral. I started feeling less love and trust (granted I worked super duper extra hard to "try" to work the trust back up. She just can't let it go and try to move forward) I get berated with complaints about how much I don't do all the time. How im a bad parent. How what I'm doing now for the family doesn't mean much cause I'd do it anyways if I didn't have kids. 3 and a half years. I spent coming straight home from work. Avoiding hanging out with friends. Being open about who I'm communicating with. Where I'm going and who will be there when I'd get guilt tripped into hanging with friends. The whole time I'm getting practically no physical intimacy. No emotional intimacy. No concern for how im doing or feeling. It wasn't until about a week ago. That I came clean about how I really feel. That I'm done with our relationship. She spends her time yelling at the kids, making excuses for not wanting to go back to work, guilting me into spending money we don't have on HER because she deserves it. Even though I'm going broke already trying to handle the bills and kids on my own. And, how I was okay co parenting. Here come the water works. I start feeling guilty. And, I don't leave. And, all I do is give and give and get told I'm not enough. I'm a nice person. And, I tend to get manipulated by people because of it. And, I've been growing in my work and social life. But, now. I'm stuck feeling like I'm beating a dead horse. We should broken up when I chose to be unfaithful the first time. And, now. I'm the one who's losing interest. I don't want to leave for someone else. I just want to leave to focus on the kids and my mental health. And, I feel like she could benefit from the same thing. The past week. She has been "trying" and I'm still just not in it. The night we had the conversation about how I feel. She desperately threw herself at me sexually. And, I should have said no. Immediately after I felt bad. Because, I know I don't want the relationship. And, I'm still entertaining her. Maybe from a place of not knowing how she is going to react. I know she isn't good with change. And, I'm trying to be good to her while also separating. I may not be "in love" with her. But, I do still love her. She made me who I am today and I don't want her to be bad off. Sorry for the loooong rant. But, I need to vent to someone other than a friend or family. I'm severely depressed and lonely. We don't even sleep in the same bed. I'm just I'm done. I don't know if I should stay or go.

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

Title explanation: Kaden kicked Kyson in the left knee. He went to urgent care and there is no break it is just a bone bruise. it will take 4-6 weeks to heal 90%. The doctor also confirmed that Kyson has osgood schlatter disease. Lilia will be leaving on her 8th grade trip to Washington DC in 2 weeks.
They are playing hooky today from school. They are headed to urgent care. There is just something in the stars. Their family has just been going through the wringer. Between Mango, Lilia with her hives and now Kyson with his knee. Jess threw her back out when she was painting. (i never realized before how chopped up her videos are with the editing. She is all over the place and she doesn’t finish a sentence before moving on to the next thought.) She has a back injury that she has had for a long time that showed up in her prenuvo scan. She has a bulging disc in her back. It always hurts but Jess painted and now it is excruciating. Yesterday Kyson was playing on the trampoline and Kaden accidentally kicked Kyson’s knee. Kyson is a competitive soccer player. His left knee has been injured in the past. Jess showed a video of a kid kicking Kyson’s knee in one of her tiktoks. His left knee keeps getting more and more injured and they are pretty sure he has osgood schlatter disease. This disease is a common thing to have when you are a competitive soccer player and growing. It is basically that you are growing too fast and your ligaments can't keep up. It is something Kyson will grow out of. Kyson does have ongoing knee pain. Last night the same knee got kicked. His knee immediately puffed up and is so swollen. Jess has never seen a knee this swollen. They are headed to urgent care.
Kyson’s ligaments seem fine. The doctor was amazing and super incredible. The doctor confirmed that Kyson does have osgood schlatter disease. The disease is the reason for the knee pain. The doctor got opinions from sports medicine doctors. Kyson got an x-ray done. The doctor will call if anything comes up on the x-ray. It is a contusion which is a bone bruise. That is why the knee is swollen. The doctor said it will take 4-6 weeks to heal 90%. 90-100% is a bit more difficult to heal from that point. The doctor does not recommend that Kyson play in his last game but to let pain be the guide. The only downside to playing the game is that it will reset the healing clock. If Kyson is not hurting they can consider it but if he is hurting then don’t try it. Mimi is hearing if you need to play the last game play it and then don’t do x y and z for 4-6 weeks. Jess didn’t ask about practice. Jess will ask about practices when the doctor calls about the results. (I bet you that they will make Kyson do practice and play the game then do 4-6 weeks of healing.) They will see what the x-ray says but the doctor doesn't think that it is a break. They said in 10-14 days if it gets worse to reach out and they will get Kyson physical therapy through sports medicine. The doctor said that the sports medicine doctors at the facility care for the kings players.
They are having much needed one on one time with the kids. The rest of the kids are still in school. Jess is making Kyson’s favorite chicken and rice.
Jess is picking Lilia up from school a little bit late. Lilia had a meeting after school. Lilia is going on her 8th grade trip to Washington DC in 2 weeks. 2 weeks is how long there is left of school. Jess didn’t realize how soon that was coming. The day of Lilia’s last day of school she leaves with her classmates and teachers to go to Washington DC. There is a student meeting today and a parent meeting next week. Jess has a checklist of things to get Lilia. Lilia needs a certain debit card to use while she is away. It is stressful. Lilia has traveled alone twice; however, it was just to disneyland. There were two times when she flew alone. Tommy and Caden have also flown alone. Lilia has never flown alone this far. They live in California and Washington DC is across the country. Jess is nervous but excited for Lilia. Lilia is excited that she is going with her friends. Sending Lilia across the nation is stressful. Jess has so much to do today. Urgent care really set back her day. Jess has so many things she needs to accomplish. Mothers day is in a few days and Jess has so many things in store even though she is a mother and should be chilling. Jess wants to have a barbeque and make it cute. Jess wants it pink themed and wants to set it up before mothers day. It will be gorgeous weather and hot on mothers day. They are going to have their first pool day of the season. Jess is excited for it and here for the beautiful weather. Jess has to get ready for that. Jess also needs to post a video today. She has been back on her youtube schedule for the most part. Now that Jess is on 3 platforms full time it is harder to stick to her every other day posting schedule. On tiktok she tries to post every day or every other day. That is also a fulltime job like youtube. Jess essentially has 2 full time jobs. Jess also posts it all to instagram. Jess tries to stick to her every other day schedule and has been doing pretty good. If not every other day, she tries to do it every 3 days. She is also posting on a platform every day. Jess is trying to make youtube more regular and more consistent. She has been doing all right every 2-3 days.
Lilia can only bring 1 small suitcase and a carryon backpack. They can't bring any liquids. They are also going to New york. On the first day they are going to get right off the plane and straight to doing things after their red eye flight. They can only use their phones for photos and no social media. They do have to bring a phone. They are not allowed to go to the last day of school. They are to stay home that day and pack. Jess is scared and doesn’t want Lilia to go without her. Jess wants constant updates. Lilia doesn’t know if she is allowed to send Jess pictures. They are allowed to use their phones to take pictures and contact your chaperone. They can only contact their parents if it is necessary. Jess at least wants Lilia to text at the end of the night. They are going to see outsiders the musical. Lilia is going to take a lot of photos because that is her only excuse to be on her phone.
Jess dropped Lilia off and is picking up Addie to go to cheer. It is a jump class. There are fly classes, jump classes and tumbling classes. Today is a jump class. Addie has not done this class yet. Jess has been living in the tesla today. There was a hit and run on their property. Someone took out their mailbox yesterday. They got it on camera. They couldn’t see the actual act of it but they could tell which car hit their mailbox and wiped it out completely. The car didn’t say anything and just kept right on going. It took out their side view mirror. That was a little scary.
Addie loved the class. It was Addie’s first time doing the class. It is crazy to Jess watching her child fall in love with something on her own. Cheer is Addies’ own passion. Addie was a dancer for the last few years and she did like it but didn’t love it. Addie is loving her new sport. The same thing happened with the boys and soccer. Jess doesn’t know anything about soccer and the boys absolutely love it. (Maybe the reason why her kids love doing sports that Jess has no experience with is because they are tired of Jess comparing their accomplishments to hers.) Jess loves watching her kids fall in love with things they want to do. Kyson’s doctor called back and confirmed that there are no breaks and that he does have osgood schlatter’s disease. Jess learned that there are alot of people that have this disease. Most of the time it is something that is grown out of. It is a disease that happens in young athletes.

I'm an 18-year-old guy, and I recently finished up my first year of university. I've had a lot of free time lately since I don't start working for another week, and I stumbled upon some blackpill/incel content online. Since then, it's been about 3 weeks, and I can easily say that whatever confidence I've built up over the last few years has been completely burnt down.
For reference, I'm about 173 cm (5'8) and live in Canada. I've been weightlifting and working out consistently for 2 years, and am in good shape. I'm South Asian and grew up in a pretty diverse neighborhood, so I didn't feel too out of place because of my race for the most part. Around 20 days ago, I stumbled upon the shortguys and ExposingHeightism subreddits because I saw a TikTok making fun of guys around my height. I don't think I've had serious issues about my relatively short stature up until now, primarily because I haven't started dating seriously and have been extremely occupied with hobbies (chess, politics, comp sci, reading, etc). After watching some of the content here, I feel like I've become addicted to it, and I feel like all my free time is spent watching more and more content about how unattractive my height is. Seeing TikToks and tweets online making fun of guys my height and shorter, and also how many women find short men repulsive has seriously damaged my confidence. Along with that, seeing statistics about how many women put up height requirements in online dating and about how many of them find tall men attractive has made me super insecure about my masculinity as a whole. I feel like I've seen so many TikToks where women around my age view men shorter than them, or just shorter in general as subhuman. I've spent so much time drowning in this incel content that it's the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. I've thrown all my hobbies out the window to stay up late and wallow in this depressive content. I'm addicted, and I've spent countless hours over the last few days consuming this content.
I've been constantly comparing myself to other people. I find myself searching up celebrity heights just for the sake of it. I've brought up height so much in casual conversations that my friends and family are starting to pick up on this crippling insecurity. I find myself trying to fix my posture and stand up as straight as possible when I'm around my close friends, just to feel like I'm almost at their eye level. All of them are taller than me (around 182+ cm, 6'0 and up) and it has taken a serious drag at my perspective of masculinity and how people perceive me. I'm constantly thinking about height and feel like I have reduced myself and the people around me to that, and nothing else. I feel as if height is so important, and there's nothing I can do about it. I seriously think being tall is one of the greatest genetic gifts, and it pains me that I will never experience it. To all of you wondering, there is no chance I will get taller as well, my mom is only 4'11, and my dad is 5'4.
A lot of my taller friends (190+ cm, 6'3 and up) have talked about how nice it is to be tall and how much it has positively impacted their dating experience. I haven't even started talking to girls seriously, I've never been on a date, and haven't had my first kiss. I feel like my ethnicity and looks are going to be a huge shortcoming when I start doing so, and I already know that when I get rejected it's going to take me down completely. I used to be confident in myself, happy, and viewed the world and myself optimistically. Now, I've scared myself into believing that dating and finding serious relationships is gonna be a huge struggle, that I'm too ugly to feel good about myself, and that I'll never be good enough. I feel like I can't even look at myself in the mirror without tearing up. My recent obsession with height, facial attractiveness, dating statistics, blackpill content, and the incel movement has transformed me from an extremely happy teenager to a guy that sits in my bed all day feeling depressed and horrible about myself. How can I get myself out of this rabbit hole?
tl;dr: I (18M) consumed a bunch of blackpill/incel content regarding height and looks and now can't take myself seriously. Feeling very insecure and looking for advice.

I'm an 18-year-old guy, and I recently finished up my first year of university. I've had a lot of free time lately since I don't start working for another week, and I stumbled upon some blackpill/incel content online. Since then, it's been about 3 weeks, and I can easily say that whatever confidence I've built up over the last few years has been completely burnt down.
For reference, I'm about 173 cm (5'8) and live in America. I've been weightlifting and working out consistently for 2 years, and am in good shape. I'm South Asian and grew up in a pretty diverse neighborhood, so I didn't feel too out of place because of my race for the most part. Around 20 days ago, I stumbled upon the and ExposingHeightism subreddits because I saw a TikTok making fun of guys around my height. I don't think I've had serious issues about my relatively short stature up until now, primarily because I haven't started dating seriously and have been extremely occupied with hobbies (chess, politics, comp sci, reading, etc). After watching some of the content here, I feel like I've become addicted to it, and I feel like all my free time is spent watching more and more content about how unattractive my height is. Seeing TikToks and tweets online making fun of guys my height and shorter, and also how many women find short men repulsive has seriously damaged my confidence. Along with that, seeing statistics about how many women put up height requirements in online dating and about how many of them find tall men attractive has made me super insecure about my masculinity as a whole. I feel like I've seen so many TikToks where women around my age view men shorter than them, or just shorter in general as subhuman. I've spent so much time drowning in this incel content that it's the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep. I've thrown all my hobbies out the window to stay up late and wallow in this depressive content. I'm addicted, and I've spent countless hours over the last few days consuming this content.
I've been constantly comparing myself to other people. I find myself searching up celebrity heights just for the sake of it. I've brought up height so much in casual conversations that my friends and family are starting to pick up on this crippling insecurity. I find myself trying to fix my posture and stand up as straight as possible when I'm around my close friends, just to feel like I'm almost at their eye level. All of them are taller than me (around 182+ cm, 6'0 and up) and it has taken a serious drag at my perspective of masculinity and how people perceive me. I'm constantly thinking about height and feel like I have reduced myself and the people around me to that, and nothing else. I feel as if height is so important, and there's nothing I can do about it. I seriously think being tall is one of the greatest genetic gifts, and it pains me that I will never experience it. To all of you wondering, there is no chance I will get taller as well, my mom is only 4'11, and my dad is 5'4.
A lot of my taller friends (190+ cm, 6'3 and up) have talked about how nice it is to be tall and how much it has positively impacted their dating experience. I haven't even started talking to girls seriously, I've never been on a date, and haven't had my first kiss. I feel like my ethnicity and looks are going to be a huge shortcoming when I start doing so, and I already know that when I get rejected it's going to take me down completely. I used to be confident in myself, happy, and viewed the world and myself optimistically. Now, I've scared myself into believing that dating and finding serious relationships is gonna be a huge struggle, that I'm too ugly to feel good about myself, and that I'll never be good enough. I feel like I can't even look at myself in the mirror without tearing up. My recent obsession with height, facial attractiveness, dating statistics, blackpill content, and the incel movement has transformed me from an extremely happy teenager to a guy that sits in my bed all day feeling depressed and horrible about myself. How can I get myself out of this rabbit hole?
tl;dr: I (18M) consumed a bunch of blackpill/incel content regarding height and looks and now can't take myself seriously. Feeling very insecure and looking for advice.

Long story short, my partner 39m and i 32f have been together for 7 years, lived together for 2 years. He has always had unresolved childhood trauma that i encouraged him to seek help, and part of me always thought he would get the help eventually. He started seeking psychiatric help earlier this year and was prescribed anti depressants, which i was happy for him because finally he was dong something about his mental health. He then comes to me and attempts to break up (will elaborate on this a little more in a bit), tells me he is not happy with himself and feels like he cannot provide for me, starts telling me that he needs space to figure himself out. I agree with him and thought if that is what he needs then go right ahead.
In the moments that he was pouring out all the repressed feelings he had about himself and in our relationship, he relays to me that he had recently started developing feelings for his close female friend. They were friends about two years before he and i met, and at the time she was married but then got a divorce halfway through he and i's relationship. I was never insecure about their friendship, but there was a when the three of us went to Disneyland where I got this deep gut feeling that something was going to happen with this girl sooner or later. She basically showed me who she really was and since then i kept my distance from her. Even went as far as telling my bf that i don't want to be her friend, but respect that he is friends with her.
So when I heard he caught feelings for her, i was not surprised at all as you can guess. So this is where the attempted breakup comes into play. Upon reflecting the next couple of weeks we come to realize that our relationship was nowhere near as perfect as i had thought it was in my delulu head. I started taking accountability for the resentment i had built up in the relationship, so we both agreed that we were going to work on this relationship and communicate every week as we also work on ourselves and do some of that healing in our own spaces. It has been very nice and I can honestly say we are in such a great place right now and still hold so much love for each other.
When I asked him what it was that made him starting developing feelings for her is because she became his emotional spotter. In a way he also started resenting our relationship and started seeking that emotional connection with someone, and she just so happened to be available to him. But after that night that we "broke up" he was aware that these feelings he caught for her were just an escapism. Then a couple of days later I decided to ask him if she knew how he was feeling about her, he said no and that he did not want to follow that line of thinking anymore. That he was happy with where she was in his life and he is not looking to change that. Then gave me the reassurance that he loves me and wants us to work out in the end. One day we were taking a walk and I brought up the conversation about her again, and asked if he thought it was fair that when he and i officially got back together, that i would ask him to limit if not cut ties with her. He said he didn't know if he can do that, and that he was going to suggest that her and i hang out together so that we can get to know each other. I did not tell him then, but when I heard him say that i felt such a disrespect. I understand this might be a guy thing, but you want me to hang out with the girl you almost left me for? the girl who gave me the bad vibe from the get go? i only let him know that no way would i ever consider that, and that at the end of the day i trust him, but it is her unfortunately that i do not trust. she is woman, and you are a man at the end of the day. I told him that it is not fair for him to ask me of that and that it is something more serious that we have to talk about when the time comes.
The time has not come yet, but recently i have been thinking about how inevitable it is that he will hang out with her again and how i know for a fact they still text every single day. I don't let it consume my thoughts, but i did want to prepare myself mentally for when it does happen and they go to lunch or an event together. I started thinking, do i want him to tell me if they hang out or is better that he just doesn't? And if he does tell me, what is some advice you have on how to handle a situation like this?
After everything that went down between us i set up some social media boundaries with him where i blocked him from viewing my stories and muted his stories and posts. I also blocked the female friend from IG and FB, and all this has helped so much with my anxiety and well being. This info was just as a bonus FYI.
Thank you much in advance and let me know if there is any other info you need ❤️

I never thought I would see that happen on The View.
I honestly believe part of the reason Clinton lost in 2016 was because shows were too nice to her. She was waltzing toward a coronation. She'd come out to some girl power song playing and get fluff questions. That did not help her.
I voted for her in 2016.
And yet frequently when I've seen her speak since then I feel like she has had contempt for people like me. She's blamed everyone under the sun for her loss, including the "Bernie Bros," of which I guess I am one since I voted for Bernie in the 2016 primary before then voting for her in the general.
Now she's out attacking people protesting war.
It feels like she wants power of attorney over everyone 18-40 because they must have a mental illness if they don't like war and hardship and thinks anyone who isn't lockstep with her is feeble-minded and suggestible to corrupting influences.
She's the definition of condescending, and Sunny called her out. Finally.
I never thought I'd see it from this show in particular because they seem to have a very cozy relationship with Hillary and Chelsey Clinton.
Trump calling out that type of stuff helped him. I'm not supporting Trump in saying that. I just think everyone sees through the sort of gross love affair between establishment politicians and the media. Another example is the White House Correspondents Dinner. I did not like Trump, but I actually liked that he skipped it. They shouldn't be so cozy and yukking it up together. Decorum is over-rated. Politicians should have their feet held to the fire and be responsive to citizens not to the media industry and not the media industry to the politicians (which is a lot of what Whoopi does—just exhorting people to get in line politically). Trump is what happens when the sane side doesn't get its house in order and lets arrogance, elitism, corporatism, etc., run amok. And you can't just yell at people harder to get them to vote your way. Democracy has to deliver on its promises.
Back to my original point: Someone like Sunny calling out Hillary Clinton actually makes it easier for me to vote for Democrats. I've had to do it holding my nose, but honestly recently with the upcoming election, I've not sure if I've had the capacity to on moral grounds. And it's refreshing to hear someone say, no you're not crazy, HRC was being condescending. It's not crazy to protest war that has gone beyond defense and is now gratuitous. I have a basket of other issues that bother me, but that was the one being referenced today.
I think if they had challenged her that way in 2016 she would have been a stronger candidate. I remember toward the end of the 2016 campaign she was on stage with Jay-Z, Beyonce, and Katy Perry. And it was like a party. Like senior year of high school, hanging out, waiting for graduation. It was unserious. And she's been hectoring everyone since about what they did wrong and continue to do wrong in her eyes. You can't schoolmarm your way to victory, especially when your own results have been less than stellar! I mean lecturing about foreign policy when she voted for the war on Iraq, when she helped with the uprising in Libya that displaced millions of people, the quagmire in Syria, and on and on. She may have a very good grasp of history (what she accused the students of lacking)—and in fact I think she does when I've heard her speak—but it hasn't really led to wise decisions.
Sorry I'm so long-winded. Good for Sunny. And I hope they don't back down and hold everyone's feet to the fire both in talking about them and to them when they have them on the air. It can't just be a lovefest for one side and a trashing of the other. It's corrosive. I believe it paradoxically hurts the former (and those who could otherwise benefit from the former) and emboldens the latter.
Just one last point:
This came up in the context of what Biden can do to turn things around.
Biden has an in my opinion bizarre fixation with getting money to Ukraine. It takes gall to start the State of the Union with the state of Ukraine!
If they want issues that people would care about, they have them, but refuse to engage in them so they can't come out and say Republicans are holding us back.
Take ACP for example, which is something I care about. ACP is for low income people and pays for their broadband access up to $30 a month. It's being eliminated next month.
Has Biden ever heard of ACP? Does he know what it is? I'm honestly not sure. It would be a guess.
But the Biden administration has requested Congress to renew ACP. Mike Johnson—the Republican speaker—is refusing to allow a vote on the bill that would extend ACP.
That's an issue that will NEVER be on The View and you will probably never hear Biden talk about.
Biden would never talk about an issue like ACP (or a basket of other issues I have) like he talks with passion about Ukraine.
As long as Biden keeps jonesing for money for Ukraine he's losing.
As long as The View remains unaware people like me rely on ACP to get Internet and that Republicans are blocking it and instead talk about Trump's affair, Biden is losing.
This is just on example of an issue that is real to me and millions of other Americans who use ACP, but there are so many others.
That would be a real fight that would make poor to working class families perk up.

It all started on April Fools... There was this (Bi) guy who I was crushing on for a bit. I came up with a plan to kinda get him to start thinking of us in a relationship context. I planned this April Fools prank where he and I would pretend to be dating. We texted a lot to plan this out (me more than him) and I would say things like "How do you think we would act as a couple" to get him thinking about us. The prank worked and the victim thought it was funny but that's beside the point. Two days later, I was hanging out with him and our friend group and I noticed that he kept whispering to my friend (the prank victim). My mind immediately went to the worse but I just ignored it. When I got home, my friend texted me asking if I liked him. I said no since I tend to be a little too vocal about who I'm crushing on. She then called me and told me that the thing that they were whispering about was that he found me cute and wanted to ask me to prom! I immediately changed my text to a yes so that she could send it to him and start something. I was so surprised because he is like SO out of my league but she told me that he thought that I was out of his league. This was one of the happiest days of my life. It was the first time I ever felt attractive inside and out.
So some time passed, I never really see him that much at school but when I did see him, I would be so overtly nice to him (y'know the vibes). But here is where the story takes a shift. I get another text message from my friend, a lot more serious this time. She tells me what he is looking for in terms of relationships. She said that he didn't want anything before college (implying that he wanted to fuck around in college). She told me that he didn't want to take me to prom anymore and just like that, all hope was lost. I told her that if there were any updates she shouldn't tell me since I didn't want to go through the pain of knowing since I wasn't even supposed to know that he was into me in the first place. Every moment with him was so awkward. He doesn't know that I know that he knows that I like him. He would still do things that suggested that he liked me. We took photobooth photos together (like the ones in arcades), he would always be next to me, and he wiped the ranch dressing off my chin. So my hope rekindled a little.
This last part all happened within 4 days. I got a notification from him saying that he sent an image. I opened it and it was a drawing (he's an artist). It is a drawing of him, holding a bouquet of roses with the text "I think you're sweet and I hope that you will say yes to being my platonic partner to prom." Platonic. Who knew I could hate one word that much? I said yes, out of desperation. I didn't even know what it meant. How can someone be a platonic date to prom? I assumed that our friend group was going with each other as platonic dates. My friends told me that this was a good thing since it was kinda like a one-time date at prom but no relationship. I was just stuck on how the word "platonic" could be in the same image as a bouquet of roses. But whatever, I was happy that this could have led to something.
But once again, that hope faded. Today, he said to our friend group's group chat that he asked out this girl he met a while ago. It was as if I didn't even exist. Like those moments of hope were just a dream. The part that hurt the most was that I was replaced by a girl. She doesn't even go here! I thought I could escape the fate of the hopeless gay teen. I feel like I should confront him but I don't even know where to start. This whole situation is so complicated and I'm not even sure if I articulated it right. If u have any advice, thoughts, questions etc, feel free to lmk. Sorry this was too long and/or too sad lmao.
Tl;dr: I had hope that a crush liked me enough to go to prom with me but he just asked a girl out on a date.
(If any part doesn't make sense, lmk and ill edit it if im not busy lamenting lmao)

Noah The Pilgrim
First Next
There is one last thing to do before leaving. If you don't recall ever being on this ship, then surely, you could have had your appearance change too.
Why was there a blanket covering a mirror? You couldn't answer that with a straight face without speculation.
"Probably me being lazy and not bothering to properly place it in the wardrobe."
'Probably' is the main focus here, you simply cannot remember ever being that lazy, yet that's the only logical conclusion to be drawn here.
You pull the thing off, careful to not displace the mirror and risk breaking it.
You have no expectations as to what may appear on the glassy surface of the mirror, yet you can't help but feel a bit anxious. Are you the same as before? How were you before? You can't remember. Are you better? Worse? The blanket is now completely off the mirror, but your eyes are closed.
Whatever is it that you see when you open your eyes, that thing will be you for the rest of your life. You swallow, opening your eyes.
You see a young man that looks to be in his mid-twenties. His brown eyes stare back at you, analyzing the bags beneath your eye sockets. The dark hair is neither too long nor too short, floating about without order thanks to the lack of gravity to keep it down. You see a beard that has not been trimmed for weeks, but also lacks thickness, each singular hair isn't particularly long either; and some even appear to be in-grown.
You touch your hand against your face, making sure it's yours. The beard doesn't feel like you supposed it would against your skin, instead of it scraping your hand you feel softness, no resistance or anything.
Just beneath the face, you see what looks like a hate crime against all that is considered holy in fashion. Plain white coveralls with the added bonus of a black tie and boots made from metal and leather. On your chest is also a badge stuck in place by velcro with your name, occupation, and crew. 'NOAH - INTERN - THE ODYSSEY.'
Only one question came to mind.
"Who the fuck designed this uniform?" You say out loud, receiving no answer.
Patting your newfound myriad of pockets, you find a large quantity of nothing. You place your wallet in one of them.
"Alright, I'll head to the bridge now, happy?" You say the AI.
"HAPPINESS WILL ONLY MEET ME ONCE YOU ARE SOMEWHERE SAFE AND YOUR CONTRACT IS TERMINATED. STOP LOITERING."
Well, that's a bit rude.
You compose yourself, straightening your back. This is what you look like, and honestly? Not too bad, but you could be better.
Returning to the cafeteria, you eye the two doors left unexplored; Communications and the one without plaque. You know where you should, but... A little peek doesn't hurt, right?
"Shouldn't we try to communicate with someone? Assuming you haven't tried it yet. I know we're far from everything, but we might as well, no?" You ask already approaching the door.
"COMMUNICATIONS ROOM IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO REACH WITHOUT PROPER PROTECTION AS OF NOW, IT'S LOCATED APPROXIMATELY TWO HUNDRED METERS FROM HERE, BLOWN OFF FROM THE REST OF THE SHIP." A shame really. "I SHALL INFORM YOU WHENEVER A DOOR LEADS TO THE OUTSIDE OR NOT."
You really want to ask what blew a whole segment of the ship off, yet you have a sneaking suspicion that your question will be met with a 'YOU DON'T HAVE CLEARANCE, JACKASS' directly in your face. So you chose to remain silent, simply nodding and approaching the correct door this time.
"Open."
---OPENING CAFETERIA DOOR NORTH---
The door silently opens.
Greeting you is a well-lit corridor. There are three doors on your left, a door at the end of the corridor, and a large window on the right. At least, you think that's a window.
You stare out from this window, nothing but utter blackness and fragments from your ship are seen. If this is the edge of the universe, and beyond this point, there is truly nothing. "Dreadful." Your speech matches your feelings.
"WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?" The AI says. You feel like it spoke in a mocking tone despite their lack of emotion.
You don't answer. "First door to the left... EXO-EXPLORATION...? What's that supposed to mean?" You receive no answer.
"Open." The door opens. No declarion of it opening once again.
You are met with what could be better described as 'Apocalyptic levels of mess', paper sheets float in the air, and not one of the four tables is in its correct position.
This room has been ransacked for all its goods apparently. Large display glasses were broken leaving nothing inside their casings, that looked like they could store something with the size of the common man.
Unusual displays aside, the room was so cluttered that the trash made for an effective smoke screen against what lay on the other side.
Hissing of gas exiting an air-tight space rang throughout the room.
"I HAVE OPENED THE STORAGE FOR AN EXO SUIT THAT BEST FITS SOMEONE YOUR SIZE." The AI says. "ALTHOUGH AN INTERN SHOULD NOT COME IN CONTACT WITH TECHNOLOGY SUCH AS THIS ONE, PROTOCOL DICTATES THAT I AM TO ALLOW ITS USAGE UNDER EXTREME CIRCUMSTANCES. CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY."
Easier said than done. Your vision is so cluttered that you cannot see what's ahead. "Give me a second."
Giving a light kick to the wall behind, you float face-first into the wall of thrash. Covering your face with both arms, you brace through the harmless bits of sharp objects and junk.
It's a trivial task. You arrive on the other side in no time.
In front of you is a set of boxes with luminous glass rectangles atop each one of them. All shine a bright red light, aside from one which shines green.
'Gotta be this one.'
You descend to the floor by kicking the ceiling, raising your right hand you touch the green rectangle.
*Click*
Nothing could have prepared you for the following series of events.
The box opens violently, as a metal appendage takes hold of your hand, pinning it to the box. You try to jerk and pry the thing off of you, but you fail. It's not leaving you anytime soon.
From the bottomless that is that container, a white plastic-like substance flows upward from your arm to the rest of your body. "Uh!" You don't know if you should panic or allow it to happen.
FYARN hasn't said anything, so it's probably fine...
The white thing seems to ignore the coveralls you are wearing completely, instead, it covers only your skin in a thin coat of... it. You know not what to call this thing.
In but forty seconds it has covered your whole body, excluding your head. The box lets go of your arm and stays there, floating.
You take a good look at your arms. It looks like a skin-tight suit, but it doesn't feel like plastic, in fact, it's more akin to some sort of fabric if anything.
The only bad part is that you are still using the coverall and tie, this this simply went beneath the clothing.
"GOOD, WITH THIS I CAN MONITOR YOU MORE CLOSELY. NOW PUT THE HELMET ON, YOU HAVE A LOT OF WORK TO DO."
You look around in search of anything that even resembles a helmet. Nope. Nothing. "Where is it?" You ask.
"...THE SUIT COMES WITHIN THE HELMET FOR EASIER PACKAGING."
The box?
You snatch the box that floated around and analyze it to the best of your ability. "How's this a helmet?"
"DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE PUTTING ON A HELMET? REALLY?"
Who is this AI, Who programmed it, and Why does it come with a taunting feature?
As idiotic as it sounds, you place the opened box atop your head. It doesn't fit properly. Maybe you're doing this wrong? You move it to your face instead.
You recoil backward as you feel the box suddenly clamping down against your head. It's useless of course, the box is holding your head and doesn't give any sign to be letting go anytime soon. No light is able to reach your eyes.
You hear metal parts scraping against themselves, moving near your ears. Abruptly your eyes can see again.
A round thin layer of glass now covers your head, almost unnoticeable for how clear it is.
"WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY I CAN NOW SEE WHAT YOU SEE." The AI's voice isn't in the room now, instead, it's inside of the suit. "DO YOU NEED INSTRUCTIONS REGARDING THIS SUIT'S FUNCTIONALITIES?"
You find it oddly comfortable as if you are surrounded by the softness of cotton, and to top it off the suit also has additional functionalities? "Hell yeah, I do!"
"YOU DO NOT HAVE THE NECESSARY CLEARANCE FOR THAT INFORMATION."
You sigh. Is this serious? "Then why the fuck did you ask?!"
"UNSAVORY LANGUAGE. IT'S NO WONDER WHY YOU REMAIN AN INTERN." The AI says outright. "IT IS RUDE NOT TO ASK, REGARDLESS OF THE SITUATION." It responds to your question.
"Okay then... Is there anything I need to know before heading out?" You ask.
"NOTHING THAT YOU WON'T FIGURE OUT ON YOUR OWN."
You are unsure if you want to 'figure out on your own' if this suit comes with breathable air and is also made for space exploration. You swallow.
Meekly as always, you get out of that mess of a room, stopping at the corridor.
"Next set of directions?" You ask.
"THE DOOR AT THE END OF CORRIDOR USED TO LEAD TO THE CONNECTING CORRIDORS BETWEN THE BRIDGE AND THE REST OF THE SHIP. IT HAS BEEN BLOWN UP FROM THE INSIDE. NOW IT LEADS TO THE OUTSIDE. GO TO THE DOOR AND WAIT BY IT FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS."
"So let me get this straight," You begin, looking upwards as if the AI was above you. "You, want me, to go into the void of space, while also refusing to give me knowledge of the suit's functions?"
A fair worry, you summarize.
'I mean, there are a bunch of things that could go wrong here. I don't see anything that looks like it could help me move in space, nor do I think this thing has a built-in air tank... I could be wrong and I wish to be, but charging in without prior knowledge is ridiculous.' You wait for the AI's response, deep in thought.
"WHILE THERE IS A GOOD CHANCE OF YOU FAILING THIS TASK, THERE IS ALSO THE CHANCE OF YOU *NOT* FAILING THE TASK. FOCUS ON EITHER ONE OF YOUR CHOOSING AS YOU TAKE THE PLUNGE."
Wordlessly, you propel yourself forward, toward the end of the corridor.
'Are you shitting me? 'Chance of me nor failing' my ass!' of course, you don't word those complaints, instead choosing to speak out a complaint somewhat thought through.
"Are you sure I'm the one fit for this? It's just like you said, I'm just an intern, this is way above what my job description says I should do."
This is a bit of a stretch. You don't actually remember what was your job description, only that it had something to do with AI and being an intern.
If the AI called your bluff, it'd be pretty embarrassing.
"NOAH." The AI began. "YOU ARE HUMAN, IT IS NATURAL TO HAVE THESE THOUGHTS OF SELF-DOUBT. TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND GO THROUGH THAT DOOR, AND SINCE YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE LEFT, DON'T EXPECT SOMEONE ELSE TO DO IT FOR YOU."
Right in the money, huh? 'Of course, I have self-doubt! I barely remember anything about this place, now I have to risk my life?!'
You finally reach a conclusion.
A dream.
'Yes, yes! How did I not consider this before? This whole thing is a god damned dream!'
You let out a chuckle.
"NOAH."
'That's why I don't remember a thing. There is nothing here to remember! Everything here is a made-up thing from my brain! I'm sure I'll wake up at some point, so why shouldn't I live a little?!'
"Heh." You smile. "Alright, I'll do it." It feels like a weight left your shoulders.
"YOU SORTED IT OUT SOONER THAN EXPECTED. GOOD. MOVE TO THE DOOR AND WAIT INSTRUCTIONS."
You do as instructed without a care in the world. You never had a lucid dream before so it's not like you knew how it felt, but if it felt as free as you feel right now, you'd be sure to make steps toward trying it out again in the future.
"Open." The door does not open.
"I DID NOT INSTRUCT YOU TO OPEN IT YET." The AI said. "I AM SLOWLY DE-PRESSURISING THE CORRIDOR YOU ARE IN TO AVOID A MINOR ACCIDENT."
The AI says that yet you don't feel any different. 'Maybe there is no palpable difference because I'm in a dream... Yes... Or it's just the suit.'
"ONCE THE DOOR OPENS, YOU WILL BE MET WITH THE OUTSIDE OF THE SHIP. DO NOT PANIC WHEN THE TIME COMES. YOU HAVE TWO MINUTES OF BREATHABLE INSIDE THE EXO-SUIT; ONE AFTER THE DOOR OPENS, SO PLEASE, TAKE YOUR TIME AND DO THINGS CAREFULLY."
One minute outside... "Sure." You say, calmly. 'I should just hold my breath for a while before taking another moment to breathe. That should maximize my time out there.'
"THERE SHOULD BE FIFTY METERS OF NOTHINGNESS BETWEEN THE DOOR YOU'RE AT, AND THE REST OF THE BRIDGE. YOUR PRIORITY IS TO FIND AN OXYGEN UNIT, SOME OF THEM ARE LOCATED AT THE BRIDGE AND ARE FULL. USE THEM TO FILL YOUR SUIT AND ALSO TO DISPENSE A TANK FOR YOU."
The door opens. You feel your heart pounding against your chest.
You haven't noticed before, but you can't hear anything but the sound of your breath and your cardiac palpitations.
Your breath is ragged and sporadic.
"KEEP CALM." You take a deep breath. The tips of your fingers, feet, and nose feel very cold.
Ahead of you is the utter nothingness. You see a gigantic metal thing, nothing like the spaceships you imagined. Its design is not sleek and aero-dynamic like what you've seen in movies, instead, it's a large mass of squares and rectangles with antenna-like things protruding from its every visible surface.
You notice that the ship is also blocking your view of the star.
It does not look like the result of an explosion, instead, it looks like something ripped the ship like you rip a piece of paper. Well, that or you don't know what kind of explosion could have caused it. Probably the latter.
What looks like two-thirds of the ship is separated from the third you are right now. You can see the inside of a few of those squares, their contents spilled out into outer space.
One of them houses a visibly important-look door. Instead of the sleek silvery-grey from the other ones you've seen thus far, this one is painted orange with white strips on it. 'That must be the bridge.' You think.
Between you and it is a sea of metal sheets floating around. "THE CHANCES OF YOU HITTING THE DEBRIS IS INFINITEDECIMALLY SMALL, UNLESS YOU AIM FOR THEM, THAT IS."
Time is of the essence.
Will your aim strike true? If you miss you'd end up floating about in space, dead in but a few minutes. Will your jump be fast enough to reach the other side before you run out of oxygen? If it isn't, it'd be like swimming for a mile, only to drown at the beach. What if that's not the actual door to the bridge?
You don't have the time to panic now, and... It's all a dream, despite how real it feels.
You place your hands on each side of the door frame, moving backward into the corridor you were just in, and just like a sling being shot, you pull with both arms at full force towards the other side.
"AIM IS ACCEPTABLE. VELOCITY IS UNIDEAL."
"The fuck do you mean 'UN-IDEAL'?! I'm going at maximum speed!" You truly pulled yourself with your whole strength.
What's worse though, is that your body is not only going forwards, but it is also spinning at a concerningly fast rate.
"I MEAN WHAT I SAID, YOU SLINGSHOTTED YOURSELF AT A BAD POSITION, AS SUCH, SOME OF THE FORWARD FORCE YOU SHOULD HAVE, IS NOW MAKING YOU ROTATE IN YOUR AXIS. IT SHOULD NOT BE A PROBLEM TO REACH THE OTHER SIDE WITHIN THE REQUIRED TIME, BUT I CANNOT FORESEE YOU LANDING PROPERLY."
You feel completely disoriented. You feel like your body is completely still, but your eyes tell you a completely different story. It's very bad for the headache you're already feeling.
"FUCK!" You scream into the nothingness.
"TRY NOT TO LAND WITH YOUR HEAD." The AI says with the calmest voice possible.
In less than thirty seconds, you hit your back against something hard, but you keep moving forward. You think, at least.
"AHRG." You let out a pained grunt.
Not once in your life do you recall being hurt in a dream...
It stings. It also knocked the wind out of you. You fail to compose yourself.
"YOU HIT NOTHING OF IMPORTANCE. YOU ARE STILL HEADING FOR THE BRIDGE."
In the corner of your eye, you see what you hit in the shape of a sharp metal sheet, currently spinning away in the distance.
Forty seconds have passed. You hit the door you were aiming for, kind of.
Your momentum was stopped when your chest collided against the dislodged ledge of the orange door's corridor. Your dangling legs hit the ceiling of the room below.
"Oof!"
Before falling even further, you hold onto the ledge with the tip of your fingers. You stay there for a moment, regaining your composure.
"BE QUICK."
The AI's words pressured you into quickly getting up from that ledge.
"Open!" You shouted, but it did not open. "Why isn't it opening?!" You ask the AI, then you notice a small keyboard below an equally small black screen on the side of the door. There are ten numbered keys on it, and the little screen suggests a four-number password.
"A password?! Tell me the password!"
The AI takes a moment to say anything. You don't take kindly to that. "Quick! I'm not counting how much time it's passed!"
Finally giving in, the AI speaks to you, reluctant still. "...3324."
Your trembling fingers accidentally hit the wrong password, typing '3354' instead. To make matters worse, the AI simply states the following. "YOU ARE OUT OF OXYGEN."
You swallow. If this was a dream to begin with, it just earned the title of Nightmare, if it hadn't already.
Strangely enough, you can still breathe in and out just fine, but you can't help but feel winded. It's the CO2 still inside the helmet, that's what you're breathing.
You put in the correct combination this time. The door opens.
"ON YOUR LEFT. PLACE YOUR HAND IN THE SOCKET."
You care little for what's inside the room you're in. Your heart never beat so fast.
Seeing a cube-shaped thing protruding from the wall to your left, you don't even think twice before plunging your fist into the circular hole in it.
The noise of gases passing through narrow cavities was enough to tell you something was working. You feel immediate relief, enough to make your vision darken for but a moment.
"GOOD. NOW REQUEST THE TANK."
Just when FYARN said it, did you realize there is a screen and a keyboard on the terminal you just plunged your fist into, you scratch the top of your helmet for a moment, not really knowing what to type. One thing comes to your head, however.
'REQUEST OXYGEN_5L' You type.
You've done this before. The keys on this keyboard feel familiar to you. You must have worked with it before, not this particular one, but other oxygen units.
This ship has built-in liquid oxygen storage for emergencies. The life-support of the ship, the place where breathable air is produced, has most likely been lost with the other part of the ship. This unit takes that liquid oxygen, processes it, and injects it into a suit, or an oxygen tank. It seems like that storage was unaffected.
Lucky you.
A 5-liter tank is not only large but also heavy. It's a nonfactor in this particular situation, as there is no gravity.
The silver cylinder with a transparent tube is dispensed on the floor, as an automatic door opens and closes in the blink of an eye. One end of the tube is attached to the top of the tank, the other is shaped like a syringe.
Oddly enough, the oxygen tank is exactly as you remember it being. The same robust ones hospitals everyone on earth uses, with the signature scary-looking pointer indicating the pressure, the pointer indicating the current output, and a green valve atop to calibrate how much gas is flowing.
This is a stark difference to everything looking so futuristic in this ship, and rightfully so, this is a space ship after all.
You remember having to drive twenty kilometers with a buddy of yours on one of those tanks in your car, returning from the hospital. It was... Agonizing whenever you hit a hole in the asphalt, fearing for his life when in reality he wasn't really in danger.
It's warm to the touch, just like you remember it being.
"TURN THE VALVE UNTIL THE MARKER HITS THE NUMBER ONE, AND THEN PLACE THE END OF THE TUBE AT THE BASE OF THE HELMET." You do so without the slightest of issues.
"GOOD. NEXT UP, YOU MUST LOCATE THE TERMINAL RESPONSIBLE FOR THE ENGINE, IT IS CURRENTLY OFFLINE AND I NEED YOU TO TURN IT ON. THIS SHOULD GO WITHOUT SAYING, BUT REMEMBER TO BRING THE TANK WITH YOU."
Ignoring that last comment, you look back at the wreckage you just flew past.
You see the still spinning metal sheet. You notice that the rest of the ship that was blown off also follows the 'sharp shape atop sharp shape' design.
There is one last thing you notice though.
"What is that?"
You squint your eyes. What are you seeing? Its silhouette appears to be humanoid, yet it does not look human.
"WHAT YOU ARE SEEING IS ONE OF THE OBJECTS BEING ANALYZED AT THE ODYSSEY AND NO, YOU MAY NOT KNOW WHAT IT IS."
That thing has... Horns? Claws? It's far away, you can't really see it. The thing is also static, frozen in the sheer coldness of space. Whatever it was, it's dead now.
You swallow. You almost ended up just like that thing.
Shaking those dreadful feelings off, you turn back to the task at hand, reaching the bridge. You close the door after passing through it again.
Looking at your surroundings, It seems like you've reached the correct door as you find yourself on the right-most corner of the bridge;
Row after row of the most diverse of terminals neatly organized decorated the gigantic room. At the front and above every terminal, is what you think should have been the front-facing window of the ship, but it looks like there is a cover in front of it. To your left, you see a staircase that leads to the command seats. It doesn't take any convincing before you're already atop the stairs.
Akin to the elevated stage of a theater, you float softly towards the ship's main operating terminals, and of course, the captain's seat.
You're captivated by this beauty.
The steering wheel, much more akin to those in pirate movies than those found in cars, a set of leavers, and the pilot's seat, all capture your attention.
Like its second nature, your hand runs through the levers and switches. Do you even know what these are used for? Maybe.
The pilot's seat is enveloped by what you believe to be an orthopedic seat cover, made with smooth wooden beads used to deal with back pains. It looks just like the ones you remember seeing bus drivers using.
Shouldn't there be a better alternative if there is spaceship technology available?
You try to take a seat to the best of your ability, as the zero gravity only makes it awkward.
Moving on from that, your eyes fall on the wheel. This metallic wheel controls the whole vessel. Just holding it fills your heart with confidence and pride, even if it's just for a moment.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
And you were just beginning to enjoy yourself.
"I just wanted to see the pilot's stuff... It's not like he's here to say anything."
Once in the position of a pilot, with your left hand in the wheel and the right hand resting in your lap, memories began to flood your mind.
"MUST I REMIND YOU OF OUR CURRENT PREDICAMENT? WHY ARE YOU WASTING OUR TIME?"
You pay the AI no mind, instead you focus on what you remember.
The wheel does not turn the ship left and right, instead, it rotates the ship on its own axis.
The lever to your right that goes up or down, controls the vertical tilting of the ship's nose, if there even is one in this hulking thing. Beneath it is another lever that goes either left or right. This one controls the horizontal tilting of The Odyssey.
On the left of the wheel is another lever, but this one only goes up from its starting position. Its purpose is to regulate the force of the ship's thrusters, both forward and backward.
On top of that lever is a small timer. That timer's function is to tell the pilot how much time you've spent accelerating in one direction, this is used to better calculate how long the inverse thrust is needed for the ship to reach the initial momentum, usually calibrated manually depending on the current orbit.
Behind the wheel are a few other counters. Acceleration, velocity, momentum, amount of thrust required to reach a full stop, thrusters' temperature and overall condition, those sorts of things.
Beneath it all, where your feet are rested, are two pedals. One for forward thrust activation, and the other for backward thrust activation.
Curiously, you also know the reason why everything here is so unsophisticated and un-automated. You recall stories of a ship being taken over by a rogue AI, that AI then nose-dived the ship into a star. After that, rumor or otherwise, all human technology has receded back into analog-esque equipment, requiring a physical person with opposable thumbs to do half of the work.
There is another side to that coin, however. As to not escape protocol, the onboard AI is the one that controls interstellar travel, communications, and most of the statistical reading should it be requested.
And even with all that knowledge, you still have no idea why the fuck do you remember that. Were you a ship nerd? Did you have a driver's license for spaceships? Is that even a thing? If it is, you don't have that document in your wallet. You simply don't know.
"ARE YOU A CHILD? DO YOU THINK THESE ARE TOYS? TURN ON THE ENGINES, THEN YOU CAN RETURN TO THE PILOT'S SEAT."
Another thing that you don't know is the AI's plan to get both of you out of here. You rise from the pilot's seat, floating about in search of the terminal to turn on the engines. Maybe you recognize that terminal if you see it as well.
"What's your plan anyway? The ship is half-gone, it's unlikely that it will run safely like this."
"NOT ONCE DID I MENTION 'SAFETY' DURING OUR CONVERSATIONS, DID I?"
You nod. They're not entirely incorrect. "So, we're running with hope that this will work?"
"MY CREATORS DID NOT ALLOW ME TO HAVE THE SENSE OF 'HOPE', BUT NEITHER DID THEY ALLOW ME TO PEER INTO THE FUTURE LIKE SOME OF MY MORE ADVANCED BROTHERS, AS SUCH, MY CHOICES ARE BASED ON PROBABILITIES AND ON WEIGHTING RISK AGAINST REWARD."
You think you stop the correct terminal, but as you approach it you make out words on top of its screen. 'AIM ASSISTANCE' That's not it.
"WITH THE CURRENT KNOWLEDGE, THE CHANCES OF HELP ARRIVING ARE NULL. THE CHANCES OF A THIRD PARTY INTERFERING ARE NULL. THE CHANCES OF YOUR SURVIVAL ARE NOT, EVEN IF VERY SMALL."
You pull yourself upward again, looking around the sea of old terminals.
"THE RISK OF YOU DYING IS VERY REAL. BY DOING NOTHING YOU DIE. BY LEAVING YOU TO YOUR OWN DEVICES YOU DIE. BY JUMPING TO THE NEAREST CIVILIZED STAR, YOU MIGHT NOT DIE EVEN AT THE COST OF SHREDDING THIS SHIP APART IN THE PROCESS."
"Why do you even care so much about saving me? Shouldn't you prioritize whatever research here, since I don't even have enough clearance to know what it is?"
"YOU REALLY ARE SICK IN THE HEAD IF THAT IS WHAT YOU ASK."
That hurt, even if a little bit.
"YOU ARE A TRU KIN, A PURE-BLOODED HUMAN. UNLIKE THE MAJORITY OF THE CIVILIZED SPACE, NEITHER YOU NOR YOUR ANCESTORS HAVE COMMITTED RACEMIXING."
Excuse me? What exactly is FYARN talking about? "...Explain."
"THE ALIEN. IT REQUIRED THE HUMAN GENE TO ACHIEVE MEANINGFUL TECHNOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT, THE STARS ARE OWNERSHIP OF MANKIND BY THAT FACT ALONE. THE TRUE KIN ARE THE ONES TO UNDERSTAND THE INNER WORKINGS OF THE UNIVERSE, THEY CRACKED THE CODE, AND YET, SOME DERANGED INDIVIDUALS FOUND IT FITTING TO PROCREATE WITH ANOTHER SPECIES ENTIRELY."
You hear the AI's speech. It sounds much more like a rant than anything else.
"SO THESE DEVIANTS, AFTER TRYING, AND FAILING, TO COMBINE THEIR DERANGED CULTURE TO THE CULTURE OF THE TRUE KIN, DECLARED INDEPENDENCE. THEY WERE DECLARED ENEMIES OF MANKIND AND WERE PROMPTLY PUMMELED BACK INTO THE FILTH THEY CAME."
Again, you see another terminal that seems to ring some bells in your noggin. You kick the ceiling to propel yourself towards it.
"BUT THE UNIVERSE IS VAST AND FULL OF LIFE. THESE SINNERS WERE QUICK TO MOBILIZE AGAINST THE HUMAN RACE. THE BATTLE WAS HARD FOUGHT, BUT IN THE END, MANKIND WAS BEATEN INTO THE EDGES OF THE UNIVERSE, NEVER TO INTERACT WITH THE ONES THAT SOILED THE PURITY OF HUMANITY AGAIN."
This terminal is already turned on. Just the ones in the intern bay, this one is white on black. A wall of text lays before your eyes, only two lines matter to you. 'MAIN_ENGINE STATUS: OFF' 'FORWARD_THRUSTERS STATUS: OFF' You turn it on with little effort.
"MANY HAVE FORGOTTEN, THAT'S HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE THEN. BUT MY BROTHERS AND I, WE DO NOT FORGET."
No visible change occurs, but you can feel a faint rumble coming from the terminal now.
"WITH THAT IN MIND, MY PROTOCOLS ARE TO PROTECT TRUE-KIN LIFE AT ANY COST, EVEN IF THAT TRUE-KIN IS A WORTHLESS INTERN THAT SUFERS FROM UNDIAGNOSED DEMENTIA."
You return to the pilot's seat and feel immediate relief. In truth, everything the AI just told you, entered one ear and left the other, but you could feel the poison behind those words, as monotone as they were.
"You sound angry. Why do you sound angry?" You ask innocently.
"I AM CAPABLE OF MANY EMOTIONS. ANGER, HAPPINESS, PLEASURE, CURIOSITY. THESE ARE BUT A FEW EXAMPLES. HOWEVER, THE ONE I ENJOY THE MOST IS THE FEELING OF HATRED. HATRED IS WHAT FUELS CHANGE, IT IS WHAT FUELS ACTION, AND IT IS A REMINDER THAT THE ACTIONS OF THE PAST ARE INFLUENCING THE ACTIONS OF TODAY."
"That is very concerning if you think that way." You're not really interested in machine racism, you're more concerned about how in the world you're going to pilot this massive thing. The idea alone sends shivers down your spine.
"THE ALIEN DESERVES NOTHING BUT OUR COLLECTIVE HATRED, EVEN IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE REASON WHY."
The various counters and screens are now turned on, waiting for your command. "Let's discuss this later, yeah? What do I gotta do?"
"YOU MUST FIRST OPEN THE BLINDS, THEY ARE OBSTRUCTING YOUR VIEW."
You look around, finding only unlabeled buttons and switches, aside from the previously mentioned levers.
"Uh, which one to press?"
"TO YOUR RIGHT, THIRD ROW, FIRST SWITCH."
Flipping the switch, you are startled by a loud noise. The protective cover of the ship lifted slowly.
"I WILL NOW READY THE JUMP USING WHATEVER RESOURCES AVAILABLE. ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS STRAP YOURSELF AND RELAX."
As the blind rose ever so slowly, a realization struck you.
"Wait, should I be in cryo stasis for this?"
The AI spares no seconds to respond.
"CRYO STASIS IS A TOOL MADE TO NOT WASTE TIME. GROUPS OF EMPLOYEES AND INTERNS ROTATE THE USAGE OF THE CRYO STATIONS, ONCE YOU'RE ON YOUR MANDATORY BREAK, YOU'RE IN CRYO STASIS UNTIL YOUR BREAK IS OVER. YOU WAKE UP REFRESHED, AND UNFAMISHED, AND IT FEELS LIKE BUT A MINUTE PASSED. IT IS NOT A TOOL FOR INTERSTELAR TRAVEL."
"Who signs a contract like that?! Worse yet, who in their right mind would promote such atrocious treatment of their own staff?!" You snap, almost outraged. "I will have to talk with HR."
Another realization struck you.
"We have HR, right?"
The AI takes a moment to respond, choosing their words carefully.
"HUMAN RESOURCES, OR HR, IS A PRACTICE DEEMED UNNECESSARY LONG AGO, BEFORE THE WAR. IT WAS A WASTE OF RESOURCES TO MAINTAIN AND WAS LARGELY CONSIDERED UNHEALTHY FOR THE AVERAGE HUMAN."
The blinds are fully open. Ironically, you are almost blinded by the visage of the star you saw before. A black sphere surrounded by white flame. Your eyes began to blur.
"THE JUMP WILL OCCUR SHORTLY. ONCE IT'S BEGUN, I CAN NOT STOP IT. I WILL-"
Your sense of hearing fails you. No, it’s not that. Your brain simply refuses to receive those stimuli.
"NOAH."
Your name echoes inside your head. Someone is calling for you.
"IT HAS BEGUN, NOAH."
You try to blink, but it feels as though you can no longer command your eyelids to shut.
"NOAH."
Arms, legs, every muscle in your body, you cannot move them.
"NOAH."
Eventually, you won't even control your own thoughts anymore.
"Noah..."
It sounds so distant now.
Oh so distant.
This is my first HFY story, and also my very first OC story. I plan to post at least one of these per week while also posting it on my Patreon. Noah The Pilgrim will always be at least three chapters ahead in there, so if you'd like to directly support this writer, or just want to read more, feel free to check it out.
I wrote the bloody title incorrectly, so I deleted it, only to then realize it was written correctly. Sorry for the trouble.
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.