I (21F) am part of a very religious and traditionally strict family. When my sister (40, Alice) got married her husband (40, Stephen) and his brother (mid 40s, Joseph) moved into the house next door (my dad helped them get it and their jobs since they emigrated from a different country). Stephen and Joseph came to our house at mealtimes to eat (since they're men and obvs can't cook /s).
One day Joseph came to eat and he had a helium balloon to give me (i was 5 at the time), I was in the bathroom and instead of leaving it there or giving it to one of my many family members, he decided to take it back with him. After he'd left, someone told me about the balloon so I went to get it with my brother (34 now, 18 then, Simon), my brother went to park his car from the driveway into the garage and told me to quickly go and get it. I went in and I couldn't reach it since it was stuck to the ceiling so asked Joseph to get it down for me to, which he said "take your pants off first".
Even at that age I knew I shouldn't do this because not only did it feel wrong but my mom had also repeatedly told me to be careful, modest and stay away from boys (religious and all, she instilled these beliefs in me from back then and I have older sisters who were thought they same things but more strictly so I was the same). So I didn't do anything and was like "no, give it to me". He kept insisting but by that point my brother had also come in and he got it down for me and we went home. Idk if my brother heard but he never mentioned it.
Stephen on the other hand seemed like a nice guy, was good to my sister and all of us siblings and treated us nicely. Throughout the years he somehow flipped, around the time that their sister (Tammy) married my brother. Now, my sister and Stephen can't stand each other but stay together for the sake of their kids and because they know that if they divorce the same will happen to their respective siblings.
A similar thing has already happened in their family, basically their other brother (Cameron) and sister (Sammy) are also married to a pair of siblings. Cameron was caught fucking a random other girl in a field so his wife's brother who is married to Sammy openly dated and had a mistress while still being married. They basically want to avoid another situation like this, our culture is very family oriented and one couple cannot break up and the other stay together.
So basically my sister Alice is scared of her husband and his brothers doing stuff to her children because she lived with them for a decade and they were physically abusive to the kids and also weird in a pedo way. Although they didn't do anything sexual during this time (that I know of; me being so much younger means they don't tell me some stuff) I don't have any doubts about why she thinks that because I know they have these kind of tendencies and wouldn't put it past them to try on their little children.
I believe this because Stephen recently told his 9 year old son about how to "feel good" and get a "warm reaction" when rubbing his private parts. Now his son is 10, and Stephen took him to his bedroom and "laid on top of [my nephew] and jumped and pressed into" in my nephews words. I have nothing against secual education, or masturbation, but 9 years old is too young and humping your son is also a unacceptable.
On the other hand, my sister in law Tammy has a habit of watching porn on our TV, which is in the living room and used by everyone (mostly for the children to watch cartoons on or for family movie nights, ironically). Additionally, she was caught by my brother chatting up my other brother in law (35, Elias). Elias was my brother Simon's best friend since they were toddlers and he strongly denied anything happening between him and Tammy, but his wife (my sister Felice, 32) has previously caught Tammy doing this thing and told my brother Simon. He didn't believe her until we were all vacationing together 2 years ago and he saw it happen first hand. Since then Simon and Elias haven't talked to each other and their wives are basically no contact with each other (Simon and Felice still talk tho, although its more of a small talk kinda relationship so not very close).
Another thing I hate is that Tammy is hateful towards me and my all my sisters, but I will focus on Alice. Alice lives in a one bedroom with her 6 kids, she relies on her husband Stephen for money and everything else, he has control of all the banks and all the government benefits they receive for the kids. He recently sent 20000 back to his family in a different country and sends an additional 1000 every month. His family bought 4 houses in the past 2/3 years, while Alice's kids literally get bullied because they dont have the right equipment for school, their lunches, their clothes and other such reasons.
One of these was when their washing machine broke when Alice was 7 months pregnant and she had to wash the clothes by hand. She tried to talk to my parents and brother Simon and his wife Tammy to persuade Stephen to buy a new one cuz she physically couldn't anymore, to which Tammy responded with "whatever happens, whether something breaks or not, he's not gonna fix it and we're not gonna get you a new one. If you wanna stay here stay otherwise fuck off". My brother shouted at her and then her crocodile tears came out, but in the end my brother had to buy a washing machine for my sister Alice. Stephen also has a habit of leaving his wife with their 6 kids for months on end when he goes to his home country, this happened when she was pregnant twice.
When I was 14, they also tried to arrange a meeting for me to get married to their younger brother who is 7-8 years older than me. My parents and I both rejected this thought without hesitation.
I feel like their whole family is sexually fucked up and I hate them so much, I'm scared for all their kids and feel like either they will rape them or teach them that these things are normal, so they will grow up to be like them. Naturally I want neither of these things, I love my siblings and wish we could just get rid of Tammy and Stephen, but in our culture divorce is frowned upon and people make a really big deal out of it. Idk if I should report Stephen or how to help Alice, pls lmk if there's something I could do, if not pls help me sort out my thoughts and thank you for listening to my rant.

As I've said before, I live in an apartment building complex with a lot of pits in it. There's one particularly assholish tweaker who lives in the backend of the building who everyone is afraid of, because she has two adult unaltered male pits who she does not manage responsibly. The fact that there's been no recorded bites involving her is a miracle, because other dogs and their owners regularly have near misses with this bitch.
Last night it was past midnight and I was sitting on my balcony having a smoke, when I saw her come walking down the drive with the two pits on their leashes, with little blinking lights on their collars. Then, to my horror, I watched as she took them across the road a few doors down to the elementary school we live one minute from, stopped at the mouth of the gated school yard, looked around for anyone watching (obviously didn't see me), turned the little collar lights off and let her two pits off leash to go running around in the school yard in the dark.
I went inside and called 911. Tried to make a complaint, but the operator informed me that they 'don't really have the resources to chase after off-leashers in the parks'. Which is a crock of shit?? I tried telling the operator that kids and teens regularly hang out in the park at night (true), and someone could get really hurt. I even said that plenty of people in my building have called 911 over THESE specific dogs (also true). Still no dice.
Is that even legal? Refusing to send police when they're requested? It is 100% illegal for her to do this. I'm in Ontario, if that's important? What more can I do?

Will and Sharon set about gathering the things they needed including the spell book in a backpack while I sat with an uneasy feeling. I was nervous and excited watching them flit in and out the room while getting various items. I figured it was best not to ask what these things were or why we needed, what looked like chicken feet, probably asking would delay them and they seem to be in a hurry. Then my coat was being brought to me by Sharon. I must have zoned out because they both had theirs on already. “Come on honey, Wills in the car waiting.” We left heading back to the care home. My heart was pounding in my chest. I opened the window, the blast of cool night air kept me focused and conscious, “Sorry” I said “I need some fresh air do you mind I can close it if you are cold.” I added reminding myself of my manners. I'm in their car, I should have asked first. “It's OK you were looking a bit pale there I was going to suggest you open it” replied Will. We will be arriving soon, I recognise the area. I take some deep breaths, we near the building I can see most of the lights are off in the rooms. “Maybe we should wait for daylight?, that thing is going to be hard to find in the dark”. “Don't worry we won't need to find it. We will summon it into a safe place it can't escape from” Sharon explained as we pulled into the car park “we will go into the kitchen there won't be anyone in there it's after 10pm now I have a key to the back door. Wait here. We will set up the stuff and will come get you when it's ready. We will be 10 minutes tops.” and with that they both exited the car leaving me alone I locked the doors on instinct I thought that thing can't be far away it's probably watching me right now I feel the night breeze on my face. Damn the window I hit the button the whirring started then stopped short an inch from the top. I hit the button again but nothing it wasn't working. Why the hell, what's wrong with this thing? The engine is still running bang! The car rocked as if something slammed into it at speed. I look around searching for the reason that just happened then I see the long black fingers snaking into the opening of the window. I soothed over to the other side of the car and reached for the handle. It didn't work then I remembered I had locked it. I pinch the lock in a bid to flee to the kitchen but I see the death entity's red eyes outside that window. I panic thinking how can I escape it's heads on one side and hands at the other side impossibly squeezing through the gap reaching for me. I'm cowering in the back seat pleading for Sharon and Will to come save me from this thing that clearly wants to get to me “Open the dooooor!” it hissed”, “Open it… Open! IT! NOWW!” it roared. NO! What did I ever do to deserve this!? Tell me why you want to hurt me , kill me, Why?” I didn't need to know why I didn't want to know why I was just trying to keep it busy it seemed as though it knew if it squeezed itself inside the car far enough it wouldn't be able to see me anymore and I would escape “Don't think you can escape me this time human your life is mine. I wondered when you would return to this house of death. I must kill you! ” it hissed “Why must you kill me I haven't done anything to you, you killed my friends they never did anything to you why did you do that I understand you killing the old ones they have lived their lives but why me? I'm young, I didn't tell anyone what I saw, who would believe me?” I have to keep it occupied “But you did see me didn't you that is why!?, now open the door!” I saw light as the door opened from the kitchen. “No you do it I won't help you kill me no way.” I see them approaching quietly reaching for something in the bag. The snaking hand found the door lock and pulled it up. The things hand retreated out of the window as the thing crawled down the car to the now unlocked door it pulled at the handle as I reached for the lock and handle of the other door and bolted to Sharon and Will. I turned to see the death entity slowly advancing after me “Ah ha ha more souls for my collection” it taunted. Will pulled me and Sharon backwards we made our way slowly walking as it advanced on us grinning, showing its weirdly enlarged teeth. They looked too big for its mouth and were a pale blue colour. We reached the door and piled inside Sharon slammed it shut with a huge exhale. “I thought we were gonners for real then. Fuck”. “It's not over that door won't stop it, whatever your plan is do it quickly” I said hurriedly. Will turned they had set up some candles and a pentagram chalked on the floor “Light those candles and stand in the middle he handed us both a lighter and we got the candles lit as the entity was turning the door handle chuckling that haunting laughter that haunts my dreams.
Part 6 to follow soon

Okay so as a quick backstory, my mother and father had 2 kids, me(23F) and my sister(21F). My parents split long ago, and since then my father had 2 kids (7M and 12M) with another woman. My father almost always stayed about 10 hours away from my sister and I and he lived with the mother of his 2 sons. My sister and I moved to the city he lives in and the 6 of us all stay in one house. My father and the mother don't talk to one another and there are many issues involving her that are somewhat irrelevant to this post. Regardless, they are not together and he is "single". Okay so when my sister and i lived in another city, our father would always say how he wished he could spend more time with us. Now that we live in the same city, my sister and I thought that he would take this opportunity to spend more time with us. However, he is constantly at work or 'off to a meeting' early in the mornings and late at night, which are the only times we actually get to see him. We were understanding about his crazy work schedule, because he is the sole provider in our family. He has also told me on numerous occasions that he wants to sort out any problems we have before he even thinks of getting into a relationship. However, a few months ago, I found out that my father has a girlfriend, but he doesn't know that I know. I don't know this woman and it was pure coincidence that I even found out about her. I didn't say anything and didn't even try to hint at the fact that I know about it, because my father has a history of lying to spare himself conflict with my sister and I. And all this was just suspicion, I didn't know anything for sure until one night he came home late, on a call and stayed in the car. I can hear when a car's door opens and closes from my bedroom and that night I only heard a phone call being blasted on the car's speakers. The woman on the phone was telling my father how much she appreciates him and how grateful she is that they're together. The whole phone call just proved that my suspicions were correct. Obviously they have been seeing each other and going on dates or whatever and my father isn't just always busy with work as he claims. Since I've found all this out my father missed my sister and brother's birthdays because he was 'busy with work', but it fills me with so much rage thinking that he might've missed it because he was with his girlfriend. I'm not saying he shouldn't have a life outside of work and his kids, but most days he only drops my brothers off at school and then goes directly to work and comes home after all of us have already gone to bed. If we do see him at night, the first thing he says is that he's tired and wants to go to bed immediately. We barely ever see him, and it hurts me to think that my brothers will also have to grow up barely seeing their dad, just like my sister and I had to grow up. AITA for not wanting my father to date anyone right now?

i work 2 weeks of 12 hour shifts and got home Saturday at 2 am, spent another hour or two relaxing before bed. at 11 am i woke up to three pounds on the door and before i could get out of bed and down stairs my door was kicked off its frame and my 17 year old brother was hit with the door when he was going to open it and on the ground with a taser pointed at him. i was half asleep and was getting screamed at to get on the ground and my mother was ripped out of her bed while the dog got loose and ran outside. all this for my roommate who had the warrant for a firearm discharge in Napoleon while i'm in steele. the reason i'm suing is the warrant was for him alone yet my brother WHO IS A MINOR was thrown to the ground after trying to open the door and got hit with it and the both of us were placed in cuffs. the warrant did not give them the ability to use forced entry, they refused to talk to us until the logan county cleared the house and even when the firearm and person was in custody they were still going through everything in the house. they asked why my brother wasn't in school when i yelled at them It's sunday, and i later found out they were searching for drugs while inside without a probable cause. My roommate was released outside while my brother and i were still in cuffs for being in my goddamn house and i was told since its logan counties raid he had to give the go to take them off. My formal roommate got an apology for "jumping the gun" while my mother, brother and i the homeowner got nothing. i don't want the money, i want to hurt their pride. i want a public apology to myself and family for the piss poor performance and now the rumor mill next door spinning stories of it being a drug raid. anyone got a lawyer they'd suggest, the only money coming out of it would be legal fees.

Okay this is in Oklahoma and a lot happened but to summarize basically I've been with this man-child for 3 years almost, I ended up breaking it off after work on Monday (mainly) because of all the issues he has but just blatantly refuses to fix. Immediately after having the discussion he flipped out, throwing things across the room and screaming at me to leave. I stayed at a friend's house that night with nothing but my bag and the clothes I had worn to work. The next day I wake up to a phone call from him where he told me not to bother going back to the apartment because he already let his mom go through all of my things. He said he told her I wanted to fight her (never said that) so she's now determined to kick my ass, and that all of her gang-banger friends now have the addresses of all my family and friends to hurt them as well (this man never remembered my phone number, no way in hell he knows anyone's address lmao but still). I have a witness to this conversation. I also was informed by one of my employees that he had come with his mother to my workplace looking for me, apparently he had been swerving through the parking lot and was acting aggressive and intoxicated. We called law enforcement out and my friend and I went back to the apartment to find it completely destroyed, multiple holes in the walls, and a lot of my furniture was torn apart across the floor, as well several paintings and art pieces that held quite a bit of sentimental value to me. I also found that my medication, makeup,some art supplies, and my medical marijuana paraphernalia has all been taken. His cat was standing on the balcony, I don't know how long she had been outside for. He was not home at the time thankfully, and we had cops standing by while I grabbed some of my things and cared for the animals. Several hours later I was at a friend's apartment on the other side of the complex after submitting the Emergency Protective order petition, id parked far down the road just in case he drove by and surprise surprise he did, I remember hearing the familiar sound of his truck before his mom knocked on the door, I was thrown in a closet to hide and dial 911 while my friend stood at the door talking to them, and thankfully he got them to leave before the police arrived. I can't imagine what might have happened if I didn't move my car down the street. I stayed with a different friend that night for my own safety. The next day went by relatively uneventful until later in the night, we got the EPO and I immediately went and made a bunch of copies before returning to my friend's house on the other side of the complex. I had been in contact with his dad who was using the tracker on his phone to keep me updated on his location, and at this point he had returned to his adoptive parents house in Oklahoma City. At around 20:45 on Wednesday we decided to head back to my apartment to take care of the animals and we found the residence occupied by a couple that none of us recognized. We quickly ran back to my friend's place and called 911, Police came out and removed them from the premesis, and they came out with bags and bags of mine and his things. The woman seemed very confused and had a baby with her, she said that my ex had given her all of it, and that I could take any of my belongings. We went through all the bags and I found several small things of mine, she claims that she was told to stay there and watch over the apartment and to pack his things for him, we got him on the phone (through his dad, I have not spoken to him at all since Tuesday morning when he called me) and he told the officers they weren't supposed to be there and that his key was stolen, and he still sounded heavily intoxicated. Finally everyone left and we went inside to find that everything had been pretty well cleaned up, but the vast majority of my belongings were missing. Adding now my PC, monitor and keyboard, a sewing machine and many yards of fabrics and notions, a cake decorating kit, a small TV and fire stick, a sweing kit from my great-great-grandmother, and a diamond necklace my mother had gotten me for my 16th birthday to the list of missing things. My jewelry box was cleaned out, anything that seemed valuable is now gone, his dad swears up and down they're going to get it all back to me but I don't think that's going to happen. We also found a bread knife with a white-powder on one side of it sitting in the living room, we suspect it to be meth or cocaine (more than likely meth, taking his mother's history and his behavior into account) but when I tried to have it tested the officer told me to just throw it out because it would just be a waste of time. That was the last big event, the last few days have been comparatively quiet aside from getting the PO amended so I can leave the apartment, and his dad texting me, begging me to drop the PO (I won't) I really want to press charges, the court Hearing for the protective order is on the 23rd and I want to be prepared for it, and I have a police report that was approved on Sunday that I have no clue what to do with.
TLDR: Crazy ex gets drunk after breakup, harasses and threatens my entire support system, destroys a bunch of my things and gives away all my valuables to his mothers meth-addicted buddies, and now is hiding behind his dad's hoping I'll drop the protective order.
Do I need an attorney? If so how do I get one? I don't have money right now as I'm trying to get a new place to live, do I still have options? I have a paper trail and witnesses to everything, what is the next step I need to take? Can I press charges for things that happened before we broke up (SA/DV??)? His parents have money and I'm afraid they won't make this an easy fight, but this man has spent his entire adult life having everything handed to him, and walking all over everyone around him. I spent 3 years trying to "fix" him and I want to make sure that after this he won't go off and hurt another girl the same way he did me. Any help is appreciated!

My boyfriend (23) and I (21F) have been together for almost a year. We both live with our parents, so we see each other about 3-4 times a week. I didn't notice until fairly recently that he's constantly touching me.
Any time we're sitting down, he has his hand on my thigh or shoulder or is holding my hand. Driving especially, but also when we're eating dinner with my family or at a friend's house.
At concerts or clubs, he has his arms wrapped around my shoulders or waist the entire time. From the moment we walk in the doors until the moment we leave, unless I'm in the bathroom he's wrapped around me. He always stands behind me and is pressed up against me most of the time. If I try to dance, I'm forced to take a step forward and he'll follow me and pull me close again. Last time we went out, I ended up at least 5 feet away from where we started in less than 10 minutes.
If it's just the two of us, we're usually seated across from each other and I have my own personal space. It seems that any time we're in the company of other people he feels the need to be touching me.
He also tends to follow me like a shadow whenever we're anywhere other than his house. I'll go to the bathroom and he'll be standing outside when I come out. I'll be cooking and go from the sink to the stove and he'll follow me. I've suggested he sit down in the next room (clear line of sight, close enough to continue a conversation) and he says he's more comfortable standing because he's been sitting all day.
It seems to me that the more unconsciously uncomfortable he is in a situation, the more clingy he gets. When we're alone together, it's fine, but any time we're with my parents or friends or in public there's a noticable change in his behavior.
For some context, we both have a lot of trauma from previous relationships and we're both neurodivergent (he's been diagnosed with autism by one doctor, but hasn't from other doctors in the same specialty so he doesn't put much faith in the diagnosis. He definitely shows some symptoms, but I'm not a doctor). He also has trauma from his father. I've noticed he needs reassurance very often and tends to repeat almost everything he says. He also compliments me every 5 minutes and if I don't respond in kind he gets upset (sad and withdrawn, not angry).
I've asked him to stop doing specific actions (for example, rubbing my knuckles painfully hard while holding my hand, or playing with my fishnet tights, or slipping his hand in the rips of my jeans to rub my knee) and he will stop for a moment, but gets distracted and goes back to doing it a few minutes later. It does genuinely seem to be unconscious behavior and he is sincerely apologetic. He fidgets constantly with anything at hand, so I don't believe he's doing it on purpose.
I've also asked him to give me space at concerts and similar places. I've explained in very specific terms ("I need you to not put your arms around my shoulders at this concert because there's a mosh pit and I need to have control over my own balance and center of gravity" "it hurts my back and shoulders when you lean on me like that" "it's overstimulating being pressed up against you in the club all night, I'd prefer if you held my hand instead") and he responds better to that. The more specific detail I give, the longer it is before he does it again.
He does have pinched nerves in his shoulders/upper chest, so standing for long periods of time is painful for him. He tends to lean on me to relieve some of his pain. He is on medication, but it isn't working well enough to stop the pain from impacting his daily life. He is also 6'2 to my 5'5, so having him use me for support leads to me being in pain.
It's exhausting having to constantly remind him that he's overstimulating me and I need some physical distance between us. I understand that he fidgets unconsciously and that he has chronic pain. However, I'm starting to get resentful that he doesn't change his behaviors long term. I don't think it's malicious or lazy, I think he just genuinely doesn't realize how much this affects me. I tend to downplay my own discomfort, which is something I'm working on in therapy. I want to have a "come to Jesus" talk with him, but I'm afraid that either I'll be too soft and he won't change or I'll be too harsh and he'll feel attacked and not change. I don't know for a fact that I've adequately explained how his behavior makes me feel and I'm afraid of blindsiding him. I want this to be a productive conversation between two adults, not me berating him for not reading my mind.
Edit: I've asked him multiple times to seek therapy or at least be open to the possibility. He's been through 6-8 therapists since middle school and is convinced that therapy can't help him and "he already knows exactly what they're going to say"

I (21F) am part of a very religious and traditionally strict family. When my sister (40, Alice) got married her husband (40, Stephen) and his brother (mid 40s, Joseph) moved into the house next door (my dad helped them get it and their jobs since they emigrated from a different country). Stephen and Joseph came to our house at mealtimes to eat (since they're men and obvs can't cook /s).
One day Joseph came to eat and he had a helium balloon to give me (i was 5 at the time), I was in the bathroom and instead of leaving it there or giving it to one of my many family members, he decided to take it back with him. After he'd left, someone told me about the balloon so I went to get it with my brother (34 now, 18 then, Simon), my brother went to park his car from the driveway into the garage and told me to quickly go and get it. I went in and I couldn't reach it since it was stuck to the ceiling so asked Joseph to get it down for me to, which he said "take your pants off first".
Even at that age I knew I shouldn't do this because not only did it feel wrong but my mom had also repeatedly told me to be careful, modest and stay away from boys (religious and all, she instilled these beliefs in me from back then and I have older sisters who were thought they same things but more strictly so I was the same). So I didn't do anything and was like "no, give it to me". He kept insisting but by that point my brother had also come in and he got it down for me and we went home. Idk if my brother heard but he never mentioned it.
Stephen on the other hand seemed like a nice guy, was good to my sister and all of us siblings and treated us nicely. Throughout the years he somehow flipped, around the time that their sister (Tammy) married my brother. Now, my sister and Stephen can't stand each other but stay together for the sake of their kids and because they know that if they divorce the same will happen to their respective siblings.
A similar thing has already happened in their family, basically their other brother (Cameron) and sister (Sammy) are also married to a pair of siblings. Cameron was caught fucking a random other girl in a field so his wife's brother who is married to Sammy openly dated and had a mistress while still being married. They basically want to avoid another situation like this, our culture is very family oriented and one couple cannot break up and the other stay together.
So basically my sister Alice is scared of her husband and his brothers doing stuff to her children because she lived with them for a decade and they were physically abusive to the kids and also weird in a pedo way. Although they didn't do anything sexual during this time (that I know of; me being so much younger means they don't tell me some stuff) I don't have any doubts about why she thinks that because I know they have these kind of tendencies and wouldn't put it past them to try on their little children.
I believe this because Stephen recently told his 9 year old son about how to "feel good" and get a "warm reaction" when rubbing his private parts. Now his son is 10, and Stephen took him to his bedroom and "laid on top of [my nephew] and jumped and pressed into" in my nephews words. I have nothing against secual education, or masturbation, but 9 years old is too young and humping your son is also a unacceptable.
On the other hand, my sister in law Tammy has a habit of watching porn on our TV, which is in the living room and used by everyone (mostly for the children to watch cartoons on or for family movie nights, ironically). Additionally, she was caught by my brother chatting up my other brother in law (35, Elias). Elias was my brother Simon's best friend since they were toddlers and he strongly denied anything happening between him and Tammy, but his wife (my sister Felice, 32) has previously caught Tammy doing this thing and told my brother Simon. He didn't believe her until we were all vacationing together 2 years ago and he saw it happen first hand. Since then Simon and Elias haven't talked to each other and their wives are basically no contact with each other (Simon and Felice still talk tho, although its more of a small talk kinda relationship so not very close).
Another thing I hate is that Tammy is hateful towards me and my all my sisters, but I will focus on Alice. Alice lives in a one bedroom with her 6 kids, she relies on her husband Stephen for money and everything else, he has control of all the banks and all the government benefits they receive for the kids. He recently sent 20000 back to his family in a different country and sends an additional 1000 every month. His family bought 4 houses in the past 2/3 years, while Alice's kids literally get bullied because they dont have the right equipment for school, their lunches, their clothes and other such reasons.
One of these was when their washing machine broke when Alice was 7 months pregnant and she had to wash the clothes by hand. She tried to talk to my parents and brother Simon and his wife Tammy to persuade Stephen to buy a new one cuz she physically couldn't anymore, to which Tammy responded with "whatever happens, whether something breaks or not, he's not gonna fix it and we're not gonna get you a new one. If you wanna stay here stay otherwise fuck off". My brother shouted at her and then her crocodile tears came out, but in the end my brother had to buy a washing machine for my sister Alice. Stephen also has a habit of leaving his wife with their 6 kids for months on end when he goes to his home country, this happened when she was pregnant twice.
When I was 14, they also tried to arrange a meeting for me to get married to their younger brother who is 7-8 years older than me. My parents and I both rejected this thought without hesitation.
I feel like their whole family is sexually fucked up and I hate them so much, I'm scared for all their kids and feel like either they will rape them or teach them that these things are normal, so they will grow up to be like them. Naturally I want neither of these things, I love my niblings and wish we could just get rid of Tammy and Stephen, but in our culture divorce is frowned upon and people make a really big deal out of it. Plus both Alice and Simon love their kids, and one of them would have to probably give up on them if the divorces took place.
Idk if I should report Stephen or how to help Alice, pls lmk if there's something I could do, if not pls help me sort out my thoughts and thank you for listening to my rant.

First, feel free to share anything you want to and are comfortable with! This is intended to be a light-hearted, look back and think 'yep.. there it was' kind of post. I can look back and laugh now at a lot of things that really hurt me for a long time, but if you need to skip this one to avoid processing trauma or such, no hard feelings meant on my end! Love ya and see you on the next post.

1. When I was 2.5 (in the very late 80's, so times were a little different lol), my mother left me in the car to go from the driveway to the front door and hand my dad the mail. I quickly unbuckled and crawled to the front seat and somehow shifted my parents Cadillac (it was brand new and a HUGE deal as my parents were just middle class) and drove it. Into the front of our house.

It's a tax for my parents financially, for sure. My mother said I had never unbuckled, crawled to the front through the middle or sat in the drivers seat even pretending to drive before that incident. It was absolutely out of character and she swears it was only long enough to exchange mail and have a few words with my dad at the door, literally less than 2 minutes (I believe her). I watched her drive so closely and mesmerizingly that I just decided I was going to that day, Props to my parents as they never once made me feel bad about it and I even have fond memories of us laughing when someone would make a joke about me driving for a long time afterwards lol.

1. Went to the pop-up Titanic museum back in the late 90's, got a piece of coal supposedly from the Titanic in a pyramid shaped glass (resin? Can't remember honestly) from there. It was, as you can imagine in a tourist museum, very expensive, but my parents got it for me anyway. I cherished it and kept it in a "treasure box" with a lock for years... until I disobeyed my mother and took it for show & tell at school.. and who the hell knows what happened to it that day. I haven't had it since.
   
2. I was gifted $500 for gas money as a teenager, intended to last me through college practically. I accidentally threw it away later that night.
   
3. My stepfathers boss let me ride his golf cart thing one day while I was visiting. I got in, quickly and took the fuck off before the boss could get in with me. It knocked him down. I panicked and completely went deaf/disassociated/OOHFUCK'ed and didn't listen to everyone screaming at me to "just stop gassing it". I did no such thing and drove myself right into a semi trailer. My parents opened their own business after that and while I don't think it was the only factor, my heart tells me this incident played a role in it but my mom would *never* admit that, even now, I don't think. I should ask her.
   
4. I totalled my car on my 18th birthday, I say it was a tax because I wasn't paying close enough attention to the road and going a little too fast around a curve. Rolled and slid on the hood about 100 yards into the edge of the woods. I am literally lucky to be alive after this, a tree took out my headrest from the side, it literally barely missed my head. We were both unscathed.. somehow. All because I was too busy talking and flirting with my boyfriend, trying to be cool driving to the lake on my birthday with the music blasting and windows down. Now I am an incredibly aware drive and I try to be extremely cautious these days. because of these events. I don't drive any more than I have to, either.
   
5. Lost my passport. It could be in the Bahamas, it could be in my bedroom, it could be in a landfill, it could be in someone's wallet who's impersonating me... fuck if I know.
   

There's tons more but those were the incidents that bothered me a lot as a child/teen/early adult. I carried a lot of shame because of those things. I was a very, very "no way she has adhd, it's the 90's" kind of girl, it never crossed anyones mind. Only bc I was compensating excessively, which led to burnout. I was always super, chronically early, overly cautious, great grades, no late assignments EVER, etc. but I was slowly deteriorating inside at the tender of 9. I wasn't properly dx until 31-32, after running through the laundry list of wrong dx. If we had today's knowledge 30 years ago, it would have definitely been caught. I'm glad girls have more opportunities to address it earlier in life, rather than later now. Much love <3

For as far back as I can remember, my parents love for me was contingent around how well I did in sports. I remember the fear of playing subpar in a game, only to get screamed at by my parents and then given the silent treatment for days (I was 8). The older I got, the more skilled I became in sports, the more intense the pressure became. I did love sports, but it was my identity. I’d always be signed up for clubs, I’d spend hours a day post school practicing, etc. Weekends would be spent playing game after game, traveling around the state.
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?

For as far back as I can remember, my parents love for me was contingent around how well I did in sports. I remember the fear of playing subpar in a game, only to get screamed at by my parents and then given the silent treatment for days (I was 8). The older I got, the more skilled I became in sports, the more intense the pressure became. I did love sports, but it was my identity. I’d always be signed up for clubs, I’d spend hours a day post school practicing, etc. Weekends would be spent playing game after game, traveling around the state.
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?

For as far back as I can remember, my parents love for me was contingent around how well I did in sports. I remember the fear of playing subpar in a game, only to get screamed at by my parents and then given the silent treatment for days (I was 8). The older I got, the more skilled I became in sports, the more intense the pressure became. I did love sports, but it was my identity. I’d always be signed up for clubs, I’d spend hours a day post school practicing, etc. Weekends would be spent playing game after game, traveling around the state.
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?

For as far back as I can remember, my parents love for me was contingent around how well I did in sports. I remember the fear of playing subpar in a game, only to get screamed at by my parents and then given the silent treatment for days (I was 8). The older I got, the more skilled I became in sports, the more intense the pressure became. I did love sports, but it was my identity. I’d always be signed up for clubs, I’d spend hours a day post school practicing, etc. Weekends would be spent playing game after game, traveling around the state.
I remember our house was adorned with photos of me everywhere playing sports. My mom would love to wear my high school jersey and letter jacket places. The refrigerator was lined with newspaper clippings of my sports games. My dad (who played himself growing up) was no doubt living vicariously through me.
I remember in high school my girlfriend walked into my bedroom and laughed that my room was made out to be a shrine. Posters of me playing sports everywhere, flags with my last name and sports awards, trophies lining every corner, etc. I could care less about any of that, but my mom insisted on decorating my room in that fashion.
After a lifetime of sports, I was recruited to college to play as well. I was injured freshman year and my sports career ended. Honestly I welcomed the end of the pressure. However, that’s when the abuse began with my parents and sibling. It only spiraled for decades until I went no contact a couple years ago.
Nothing I ever did after my sports “career” (graduating with my masters degree, getting a high profile job, getting married, having kids, etc) ever warranted pride from them. If it wasn’t sports related, they didn’t care- and the abuse continued.
My wife and I were recently deep cleaning when we came upon a large tote my mom had given me years ago. She said she was cleaning and packed up all my childhood memories for me to keep. I decided to go through them. The tote is packed full of 1,000s of newspaper clippings of me playing sports, videos of me playing, my old jerseys, trophies, plaques, etc. There are a couple of my yearbooks, and then a box labeled childhood photos of which ALL are sports. Of hundreds, maybe 5 are as a baby and unrelated to sports. Then a box labeled “papers”. Every paper is about sports- college recruiters, awards, etc. That’s it, that’s all my memories.
No growth charts, vaccine charts, doctor visits, childhood pictures unrelated to sports. No baby clothes, drawings, school report cards, school plays, etc.
Only sports. I must admit they kept a lot. And the records of my sports are all meticulously laminated, etc. To a stranger (or to those who try and convince me I’m the issue because my parents “did so much for me always taking me to sports” and I should forgive them) would think they were amazing parents by the looks of the tote. Yet to me it’s so clear, all I was a trophy for them to get recognition for and as soon as I no longer played I lost my value.
Curious if anyone else can relate to this?

Nineteen years after Hurricane Katrina made landfall, the storm remains one of the deadliest hurricanes in United States history. Though the death toll remains uncertain, at least 1,300 lives were lost as a result of the tragedy, with dozens more still missing.
One of those lives was an unidentified woman, nicknamed Jane Love by locals, who was found a week after the storm passed between the foundations of two wrecked houses in St. Martin, Mississippi*. She wore a University of Michigan t-shirt over black pants and had pierced ears. Jane Love was determined to be a middle-aged woman, likely Black. In the chaos of the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, Jane was unable to be reunited with her family. When the woman, along with another unidentified man, went unclaimed for months after the hurricane, a local funeral home donated caskets for the two to have a dignified burial, side by side in a municipal cemetery. Sheriff's Deputies stood in place of pallbearers, while a Baptist minister recited prayers at their funeral.
Today, almost two decades later, Jane Love has been identified through genetic genealogy as Tonette Waltman Jackson.
Tonette, a forty-five-year-old Black woman living in Biloxi, believed she and her husband could ride out the storm despite their home being only a mile from the Gulf of Mexico. The couple's children took shelter further inland, though Tonette and her husband were determined to remain in their home. After all, Tonette reasoned, the government went door-to-door telling people to evacuate for their safety during past disasters that put them in danger, so if nobody showed up, it was safe to stay.
Their daughter Mary begged and pleaded with her parents to seek refuge in a safer place, knowing that her father couldn't swim. Tonette brushed it off, joking that she would save him if she had to. The pair boarded up their windows and hunkered down until the worst passed.
Unfortunately, despite surviving the hurricane, Tonette and her husband were caught in the storm surge, which dumped tons of water onto the Gulf Coast, wrecking everything in its path. Floodwater rushed into the house and the couple had to break a hole through the ceiling into their attic to escape the rising deluge, which kept on rising. Praying for their safety, they grasped onto the attic's rafters, though those soon broke apart under pressure, soon followed by the entire house giving way, described later as 'breaking in half'. Without solid ground to stand on, Tonette fell into the rushing water, while her husband managed to grab hold of a sturdy tree branch. He grabbed her by the wrist with his other hand, fighting the force of the water. Tonette let go of his hand and told him to take care of their family, before being washed away into Biloxi Bay, never to be seen again.
Her husband Hardy Jackson's heartwrenching testimony of losing her to the storm during a live interview with reporter Jennifer Mayerle was viewed by millions nationwide, encapsulating the death and suffering Hurricane Katrina wrought upon the Gulf Coast. Moved by the video of Jackson, soul musician Frankie Beverly donated a house in Atlanta, Georgia to the family, who had been living with relatives at the time.
Hardy passed away in 2013, though not before seeing their grandsons be the first in their family to graduate high school. It is unclear how Tonette was not matched to Jane Love sooner.

*The Doe Network lists her as having been found in Ocean Springs, a neighboring town, but LeMoyne Boulevard is definitely in St. Martin.

https://www.cbsnews.com/minnesota/news/wccos-jennifer-mayerle-shares-unforgettable-story-of-katrina-survivohttps://dnasolves.com/articles/tonette-waltman-jackson-mississippi/
https://abcnews.go.com/GMA/HurricaneKatrina/story?id=1093853
https://www.usnews.com/news/blogs/data-mine/2015/08/28/no-one-knows-how-many-people-died-in-katrina
https://www.weather.gov/mob/katrina
https://justicebeserved.blogspot.com/2009/09/list-of-victims-of-katrina-may-they-be.html
https://www.doenetwork.org/cases/1256ufms.html
https://www.telegram.com/story/news/state/2006/02/03/two-unidentified-victims-katrina-buried/53133330007/

Hi Courtney! I'm a huge fan of your channel and I've been watching you for a while now, and I would just die if you read my story! It's gonna be a little longer since I don't want to miss any important details. Also tag warning for some serious topics (drug use and pedophelia)
Okay so, let's start back in 2012. My mom worked in the NICU taking care of little premature babies. (I had been 6 weeks early, which inspired my mom) I was 11 at the time that she met her ex-husband, my ex-stepdad. We can just call him B (for bastard lol). They worked together, he was funny and stole her heart. Well at the time he was going through a divorce but lived in a house twenty minutes from where we were living at the time. B had told my mom that things were over with his ex for sure (he told his ex wife at that time that he wanted to work on things! She was so blindsided by the divorce papers!) <--- of course we didn't know about any of that until recently End of 2012 comes, he marries my mom and my older sister move in with him and his 7 year old son in this three bedroom house. Two rooms upstairs and a master bedroom downstairs. Now of the top two rooms, my ex stepbrother (lets call him C) had the larger room, while my older sister (who was high school age, I think she was a senior) and I shared the other room and slept in bunk beds.
Now C had a problem with sleeping in his room at night. He would tell us about how he was afraid of the closet (the closet also had a tiny door that led up to the attic). Ever since he was little it was always the same problem. C was simply terrified of something in the house. He had an experience where someone woke him up and warned him that there was a spider, he started screaming and sure enough they found a brown recluse spider under his bed.
Then my mom gets pregnant and gives birth to my little brother, H. My sister had moved out pretty much as soon as possible. B was awful. He would belittle us and talk down to us, constantly try to make everyone feel stupid around him- he had to be the smartest one around at all times. He was an asshole, and he would say rude stuff and then complain that we were taking him too serious and he was just being sarcastic. That we 'didn't get his sense of humor'. And for a while, he had my mom wrapped right around his finger. He was manipulating her from the very beginning. He even treated her like shit most of the time. 8th grade all the way through the end of my senior year I endured his treatment every day. I had to be careful about what I said at all times, about who came over, about being too loud at night. If my room was messy, he would take a garbage bag and take all of my stuff- I had to 'earn' back my stuff.
When the baby was born they had to do renovations on the house. There was a ton of attic space, so they ended up breaking into it- a game room leading to two bedrooms and a bathroom. This was when things went from humanly hellish to supernaturally chaotic. During the renovations before any walls went up and it was mostly just wood and plastic, C and I had seen a dark shadow of a man pass behind a plastic tarp- and it was so clear because the sunlight was coming from the other side. When I checked there was no body there. Once everything was completed the feeling changed.
My room ended up being on the other end of the opened up attic.
At the time I was watching a lot of Supernatural- so my spooked ass started putting salt barriers on my bedroom door (which guess what! Yeah! It was one of those attic bedrooms!) and also on my window too. My mom and B would ridicule me for this but I stand by my decisions to this day!
This was mostly because of the feelings you would get in the game room. Even if you were just passing through. There were always eyes on you- especially when your back was turned. I never ever walked through that room without the light on. I didn't even sleep with the light off in my room. When I would I would get really bad sleep paralysis,
One of the worst ones I was laying on my stomach with my head turned to the side. I opened my eyes and I was utterly frozen. At first I know it's just sp, so I try to stay calm and take deep breaths but then I start to feel this pressure starting down on my feet. It feels like two hands grabbing my ankles and pressing down. Then the hands move up my body and then there's more pressure- like someone's whole body is crawled over top of me. It gets closer and closer to my head. All the while I'm trying to scream but I can't open my mouth so it's just coming out as quiet whimpers. I can feel it breathing on my neck and then in my ear. That's when it finally stopped and I jerked up and immediately turned on the light. I remember just crying for a while. At the time B had made it impossible to trust my mom- and they would've just gotten mad at me for waking them up.
There was another night where I had been up late, probably 3 or 4 in the morning and I was drawing or something just sitting on my bed. All of the sudden I hear 4 distinct knocks from INSIDE my closet! No joke I shit bricks. There was no rational explanation. Because there was siding on our house that was damaged and it would make noise but it was always specific like a scraping/tapping. But this was a knock, like someone is at your door with your DoorDash meal type knock. I always tried to rationalize what was happening. Make excuses for the weird stuff.
Then one summer, my cousin had come up from another state to stay with us. We spent a lot of time in my room, just hanging out. One day, we're both up there just chilling when all of the sudden I notice something under my door.
Someone was walking back and forth in front of the bedroom door. You could even hear the floor creaking on the other side. You could see the shadow pass to the right and then to the left. I remember locking my door and calling my mom to see if it was an actual human, nope. She ended up sending B up there (of course this made him mad for some reason) to verify that there was no person up there. Basically they just said we were being kids with overactive imaginations but I can tell you right now there was no rational explanation for that experience.
A lot of the time at that house you could feel constant eyes on you, mostly in the attic. Like always- at all times, someone or something was watching.
There were also times when there was a sort of 'mimic' situation where you could think you heard something upstairs but you really didn't; one time my sister went to pick up our dog- and she thought she heard the dog crying upstairs, she started to go up and get her when her boyfriend who was there at the time stopped her because the dog crate was downstairs in my moms room AND GUESS WHO WAS IN THE CRATE and NOT upstairs.
There was also one time I was babysitting my younger siblings and it was pretty late when I heard giggling upstairs. Thinking it was my brother, I went up to reprimand him and basically tell him to go to sleep but when I entered his room- he was dead asleep. Like fully passed out. I just shut the door and quietly went back downstairs. Nope nope nope.
B ended up doing work out of state- I was like 20 ish and moved back in with my mom and the kids. What was weird that during this time I didn't really have a lot of paranormal experiences. Once or twice you would hear weird things or my cat would get tiffed up staring at blank corners of the room. It was mostly really nice when he wasn't there.
A few years ago we ended up having to leave that house. B as it turns out had gotten himself addicted to meth and also started downloading explicit photos of underage girls (11-13 approx.) I was at the house when the police came and everything. He's still not in jail btw which is such bull. When it first happened, my mom reached out to B's ex wife to talk to her.
Turns out from the moment B and his ex bought this house, she immediately noticed negativity. Weird things and scary things that would happen. We sort of deduced that HE was the one bringing that negative energy into the house, which totally made sense because most of the extreme haunting stuff was happening WHILE HE WAS THERE. So yeah I blame him because he is a disgusting demon himself.
Anyway that's all I've got for now- thank you so much for reading! Love you girl!

NSFW Warning
I truly don't know what to do anymore, I'm completely lost.
I'm a 20 year old male with autism and possible OCD.
There are many things I want to talk about so this is going to be really long and unorganised.
From age 18 up until last year, I viewed and masturbated to CSAM, and the way I went about getting hold of it is equally bad, if not worse. I cannot express in words the shame and remorse I feel for this.
I know most of you hate me now and I don't blame you, and I guarantee you I hate myself more for it.
The most confusing part about it is I don't find children attractive, there's no groinal response, urges, desires, arousal, nothing. I don't even take a second glance or stare, the only thing I have is intrusive thoughts. Recently I was sat in the corner of a crowded bus, and since there was nowhere else to sit, three boys, none of which could have been older than 13 sat by me, one next to me, and the other two across from me, to which I felt nothing of that nature whatsoever.
My instincts when I've been around children in recent times is purely parental and protective.
I'd never hurt a child, especially in that way, I'd slit my wrists or set myself on fire before I did that, I might just slit my wrists anyway.
I'd run into a burning building, I'd run out onto a busy road, I'd give my life to save a child's life.
I don't go out of my way to be around children, I find them for the most part irritating, I don't hate them though. Throughout my entire life I preferred the company of adults. I even live across from a playground ffs.
I'm scarred for life by some of the things I saw in those images and videos, how the hell could someone do something like that?! I want to climb through the screen and protect those kids, give them a hug and let them know nothing can hurt them anymore.
I stumbled across an image hosting site when I was 16 whilst trying to find material involving my peers again, and the site hosted lots of cropped images of teens on webcams and older kids on webcams (it was obvious what they were doing), and on the page for the accounts, it usually displayed an email where stuff could be traded, but I didn't pursue that until 2 years later.
I went about acquiring it through sending old images and videos of myself, and in a lot worse way as well.
Starting from 14 up until last year, I very occasionally placed my phone in the bathroom and filmed my friends urinating, this happened definitely less than ten times, and most of them I deleted from everywhere, but I kept one and a screenshot of a few others, I started posting these images, as well as my own nudes, on an old reddit account which was deleted not long after, I made sure to hide their identities while doing this, I enjoyed the attention and compliments I would get, and I loved bigging up my friends and seeing them get compliments.
Then I used this content to acquire the bad stuff years later, including the stuff of me.
I had an Idea that this was considered wrong but I didn't understand how it could have been harmful.
This happened to less than 5 friends, all the content I had I have long since deleted and wiped any access to, and I have no intention to do this again, but the main issue is the fact that copies could have been made of it, and I accidentally sent the uncropped video once. There's the possibility none of this stuff is out there, but it's still vile and repulsive.
One of them was my closest friend, who I had known basically all my life, I broke down to him and told him what I had done and what I believe does me to this awful, reprehensible place, and you know what he did? He told me he forgave me and that some video possibly being out there doesn't phase him and his life isn't ruined at all and it will go on either way.
But he understandably said we can't see each other anymore, that he still loves me, believes I'm a good person and wants me to live a good life and make the world a better place, which was a dream of ours.
It's extra difficult because we were so close, we had experienced so much together, held all the same interests and beliefs, and I loved him only like family could, so the fact I committed this vile act of betrayal rids me with so much shame, and deservedly so. In a way I find it harder to get through because I didn't understand the true consequences of my actions and how this could have affected him and others, it would be less confusing and easier to accept I'm just the lowest form of humanity that way.
I displayed other problematic behaviours from a young age, all to do with boundary issues, I sometimes used to touch my friends when I was 12 but never their actual genitals, and I used to jokingly show my erection to people as well.
The only constant that I knew for certain is wrong is genuine rape and molestation, which is a line I know for certain I could never cross, and never will.
From a very young age (around 3 or 4) my mother would do very inappropriate party tricks around me with her friends late at night when they were drinking, her friends would call me sexy, and as I got older and hit puberty, she started making comments about my bulge and other things despite the fact I hated it and told her so.
When I was 7 I was groomed and molested by an 8 year old boy, I wanted him to help me pass a level on my DS game and he said he'll do it if I have sex with him, me being 7 I didn't understand what that was and with him being older I complied. We were naked during this, he fondled my genitals and got me to do the same to him, he inserted his fingers into my anus as well.
When I was 10, two of my close friends groomed me, they simulated blowjobs on each other and got me to do the same to them.
When I was 11, my 12 year old friend groomed and molested me despite me protesting, he got me to get in my bed with him and he rubbed up against me. Earlier that day he also got me to sit in his lap whilst cuddling me from behind, we were wearing underwear.
When I was 13, that same friend when he was nearly 14 and another friend who was already 14 groomed and molested me in my pool again, I had an erection in the pool and jokingly showed one of them it, and it escalated from there. They both got naked and got me to do so, I protested but eventually gave in to the pressure, they also showed each other their genitals and got me to do the same, later that boy got me to sit in his lap again whilst the older boy rubbed up against me.
There was also just the normal experimenting stuff, one of my friends used to show me his erections and I would do the same.
All of my friends were going through puberty and their bodies were changing and so was mine, which I found incredibly fascinating and arousing, and I had seen most of my friends genitals and some other students genitals throughout growing up, so me being young and autistic, I became very curious.
Kids before finishing Elementary/Primary School were swearing and talking about sex, then as I got older (11) kids were drinking, smoking, doing drugs, talking about masturbation habits and apparently having genuine sex. Then by the time I was 13, there was a lot of students taking nudes, nudes being spread around school and nudes being leaked (including mine, which distressed me for a few days, but only because people knew they were mine, if they were spread around but they didn't know it was me, I wouldn't have cared), kids with condoms and other stuff etc.
I started watching non-pornographic sexual content online (sex scenes from movies, TV shows, games etc) at age 9 which I would genuinely get an erection from watching.
At age 10 I hit puberty (testicles largened) and I started masturbating to non pornographic stuff. Including videos of animals mating. I also tried to find stuff involving my peers and found a fake video of stuff suggestive of that.
At 11 I started to grow pubic hair and had my first ejaculations, as well as discover porn, and I had my first crush which was on a 12 year old boy who was another friend, who I would masturbate to. This crush lasted a number of years, but he was straight so it couldn't go anywhere. This was also the age I started taking nudes and videos of me masturbating.
At 12 I started to grow underarm har and facial hair began to appear on my upper lip, I was watching porn very heavily at this point.
At 13 my voice had broken and I was nearly my full adult height, this was also the age I first masturbated to a non-sexual nude image of a child. As well as videos of stuff like naturism and videos of circumcision (I don't have a pain or gore fetish, I would just blank it out and focus on the genitals.)
By 14 I was my full adult height, I had adult sized ejacualtions and my penis had fully grown. And that is when I started posting my nudes online. To which I would have sexual conversations with adults, not knowing I was setting myself up to be groomed and have something normalised in my head which shouldn't be.
By 15 I was growing facial hair, as well as chest and abdominal hair. And I found a shotacon involving a boy my age having sex with an adult woman, and I would pretend to be him.
At 17, a 19 year old flirted with me and got me into sending nudes to him, and he did the same, which I didn't see as bad and despite it being technically illegal, I still don't.
I also did the same when I was 19 with a 17 year old stranger online, but they were very willing and I didn't pressure them, no personal info was shared between us.
I also messaged a 15 and 14 year old at some point but stopped myself from letting it go any further. And cut them off before anything could be shared.
And when I started watching the CSAM, it was mostly teens 9n webcams that I watched, I was lured into thinking that this content isn't kids being assaulted or anything (which it is) and due to my experiences twisting my view, I thought kids were enjoying it (which they weren't) since I would have had enjoyed it at that age (which I wouldn't have) it wasn't until I saw unmistakable suffering which is when I stopped and vowed to never go there again. It was mostly stuff involving boys, the stuff involving girls I just found too revolting. I wanted to relive those experiences, go back to a time I was happier. It felt safe and comforting.
All of these experiencs warped my views and understanding of things, desensitised me and made me believe things were ok that weren't and that kids aren't as innocent as they are seen to be (which they are). I have never commited rape or an act of molestation and never will, these are acts I've always seen as vile and disgusting.
I've suffered with mental health issues for a long time as well.
I've struggled with feelings of self-hatred and worthlessness since around 9 or 10.
I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety at 13, I've been self harming and suicidal since 15, I've also been attempting suicide since 15.
I've always felt like the odd one out, I always felt like I was the worst at everything, I was the one who was left out of games at school, the one who was always picked last in sports.
I was bullied a lot growing up, by students and occasionally teachers alike.
My mother is narcissistic and has been emotionally and occasionally physically abusive to me since I was 14 (telling me she hates me and that everyone else hates me, tells me how horrible I am, tells me that I should kill myself and do everyone a favour, threatened to stab me in my sleep, hit me on the occasion, bit me, threw things at me, including heavy things and glass, strangled me).
I truly don't know what to do anymore, I'm completely lost.
I'm a 20 year old male with autism and possible OCD.
There are many things I want to talk about so this is going to be really long and unorganised.
From age 18 up until last year, I viewed and masturbated to CSAM, and the way I went about getting hold of it is equally bad, if not worse. I cannot express in words the shame and remorse I feel for this.
I know most of you hate me now and I don't blame you, and I guarantee you I hate myself more for it.
The most confusing part about it is I don't find children attractive, there's no groinal response, urges, desires, arousal, nothing. I don't even take a second glance or stare, the only thing I have is intrusive thoughts. Recently I was sat in the corner of a crowded bus, and since there was nowhere else to sit, three boys, none of which could have been older than 13 sat by me, one next to me, and the other two across from me, to which I felt nothing of that nature whatsoever.
I'm sexually attracted to males 20 and over, and I'm romantically and sexually attracted to females 20 and over, I wouldn't even date an 18 or 19 year old.
My instincts when I've been around children in recent times is purely parental and protective.
I'd never hurt a child, especially in that way, I'd slit my wrists or set myself on fire before I did that, I might just slit my wrists anyway.
I'd run into a burning building, I'd run out onto a busy road, I'd give my life to save a child's life.
I don't go out of my way to be around children, I find them for the most part irritating, I don't hate them though. Throughout my entire life I preferred the company of adults. I even live across from a playground ffs.
I'm scarred for life by some of the things I saw in those images and videos, how the hell could someone do something like that?! I want to climb through the screen and protect those kids, give them a hug and let them know nothing can hurt them anymore.
I stumbled across an image hosting site when I was 16 whilst trying to find material involving my peers again, and the site hosted lots of cropped images of teens on webcams and older kids on webcams (it was obvious what they were doing), and on the page for the accounts, it usually displayed an email where stuff could be traded, but I didn't pursue that until 2 years later.
I went about acquiring it through sending old images and videos of myself, and in a lot worse way as well.
Starting from 14 up until last year, I very occasionally placed my phone in the bathroom and filmed my friends urinating, this happened definitely less than ten times, and most of them I deleted from everywhere, but I kept one and a screenshot of a few others, I started posting these images, as well as my own nudes, on an old reddit account which was deleted not long after, I made sure to hide their identities while doing this, I enjoyed the attention and compliments I would get, and I loved bigging up my friends and seeing them get compliments.
Then I used this content to acquire the bad stuff years later, including the stuff of me.
I had an Idea that this was considered wrong but I didn't understand how it could have been harmful.
This happened to less than 5 friends, all the content I had I have long since deleted and wiped any access to, and I have no intention to do this again, but the main issue is the fact that copies could have been made of it, and I accidentally sent the uncropped video once. There's the possibility none of this stuff is out there, but it's still vile and repulsive.
One of them was my closest friend, who I had known basically all my life, I broke down to him and told him what I had done and what I believe does me to this awful, reprehensible place, and you know what he did? He told me he forgave me and that some video possibly being out there doesn't phase him and his life isn't ruined at all and it will go on either way.
But he understandably said we can't see each other anymore, that he still loves me, believes I'm a good person and wants me to live a good life and make the world a better place, which was a dream of ours.
It's extra difficult because we were so close, we had experienced so much together, held all the same interests and beliefs, and I loved him only like family could, so the fact I committed this vile act of betrayal rids me with so much shame, and deservedly so. In a way I find it harder to get through because I didn't understand the true consequences of my actions and how this could have affected him and others, it would be less confusing and easier to accept I'm just the lowest form of humanity that way.
The other two friends I stopped communicating with, I wiped the account wiped the content from all areas they were stored on, deleted what they were stored, everything, and there is a possibility it's not out their at all.
I displayed other problematic behaviours from a young age, all to do with boundary issues, I sometimes used to touch my friends when I was 12 but never their actual genitals, and I used to jokingly show my erection to people as well.
The only constant that I knew for certain is wrong is genuine rape and molestation, which is a line I know for certain I could never cross, and never will.
From a very young age (around 3 or 4) my mother would do very inappropriate party tricks around me with her friends late at night when they were drinking, her friends would call me sexy, and as I got older and hit puberty, she started making comments about my bulge and other things despite the fact I hated it and told her so.
When I was 7 I was groomed and molested by an 8 year old boy, I wanted him to help me pass a level on my DS game and he said he'll do it if I have sex with him, me being 7 I didn't understand what that was and with him being older I complied. We were naked during this, he fondled my genitals and got me to do the same to him, he inserted his fingers into my anus as well.
When I was 10, two of my close friends groomed me, they simulated blowjobs on each other and got me to do the same to them.
When I was 11, my 12 year old friend groomed and molested me despite me protesting, he got me to get in my bed with him and he rubbed up against me. Earlier that day he also got me to sit in his lap whilst cuddling me from behind, we were wearing underwear.
When I was 13, that same friend when he was nearly 14 and another friend who was already 14 groomed and molested me in my pool again, I had an erection in the pool and jokingly showed one of them it, and it escalated from there. They both got naked and got me to do so, I protested but eventually gave in to the pressure, they also showed each other their genitals and got me to do the same, later that boy got me to sit in his lap again whilst the older boy rubbed up against me.
There was also just the normal experimenting stuff, one of my friends used to show me his erections and I would do the same.
All of my friends were going through puberty and their bodies were changing and so was mine, which I found incredibly fascinating and arousing, and I had seen most of my friends genitals and some other students genitals throughout growing up, so me being young and autistic, I became very curious.
Kids before finishing Elementary/Primary School were swearing and talking about sex, then as I got older (11) kids were drinking, smoking, doing drugs, talking about masturbation habits and apparently having genuine sex. Then by the time I was 13, there was a lot of students taking nudes, nudes being spread around school and nudes being leaked (including mine, which distressed me for a few days, but only because people knew they were mine, if they were spread around but they didn't know it was me, I wouldn't have cared), kids with condoms and other stuff etc.
I started watching non-pornographic sexual content online (sex scenes from movies, TV shows, games etc) at age 9 which I would genuinely get an erection from watching.
At age 10 I hit puberty (testicles largened) and I started masturbating to non pornographic stuff. Including videos of animals mating. I also tried to find stuff involving my peers and found a fake video of stuff suggestive of that.
At 11 I started to grow pubic hair and had my first ejaculations, as well as discover porn, there was also an image I masturbated to which depicted a boy of my age giving oral to a man, and I had my first crush which was on a 12 year old boy who was another friend, who I would masturbate to. This crush lasted a number of years, but he was straight so it couldn't go anywhere. This was also the age I started taking nudes and videos of me masturbating.
At 12 I started to grow underarm har and facial hair began to appear on my upper lip, I was watching porn very heavily at this point.
At 13 my voice had broken and I was nearly my full adult height, this was also the age I first masturbated to a non-sexual nude image of a child. As well as videos of stuff like naturism and videos of circumcision (I don't have a pain or gore fetish, I would just blank it out and focus on the genitals.)
By 14 I was my full adult height, I had adult sized ejacualtions and my penis had fully grown. And that is when I started posting my nudes online. To which I would have sexual conversations with adults, not knowing I was setting myself up to be groomed and have something normalised in my head which shouldn't be.
By 15 I was growing facial hair, as well as chest and abdominal hair. And I found a shotacon involving a boy my age having sex with an adult woman, and I would pretend to be him.
At 17, a 19 year old flirted with me and got me into sending nudes to him, and he did the same, which I didn't see as bad and despite it being technically illegal, I still don't.
I also did the same when I was 19 with a 17 year old stranger online, but they were very willing and I didn't pressure them, no personal info was shared between us.
I also messaged a 15 and 14 year old at some point but stopped myself from letting it go any further. And cut them off before anything could be shared, or any messages could be exchanged for that matter.
And when I started watching the CSAM, it was mostly teens 9n webcams that I watched, I was lured into thinking that this content isn't kids being assaulted or anything (which it is) and due to my experiences twisting my view, I thought kids were enjoying it (which they weren't) since I would have had enjoyed it at that age (which I wouldn't have), it wasn't until I saw unmistakable suffering which is when I stopped and vowed to never go there again. It was mostly stuff involving boys, the stuff involving girls I just found too revolting. I wanted to relive those experiences, go back to a time I was happier. It felt safe and comforting. It was relatable.
All of these experiencs warped my views and understanding of things, desensitised me and made me believe things were ok that weren't and that kids aren't as innocent as they are seen to be (which they are). I have never commited rape or an act of molestation and never will, these are acts I've always seen as vile and disgusting.
I've suffered with mental health issues for a long time as well.
I've struggled with feelings of self-hatred and worthlessness since around 9 or 10.
I was diagnosed with depression and anxiety at 13, I've been self harming and suicidal since 15, I've also been attempting suicide since 15.
I've always felt like the odd one out, I always felt like I was the worst at everything, I was the one who was left out of games at school, the one who was always picked last in sports.
I was bullied a lot growing up, by students and occasionally teachers alike, and even my boss at my first job.
My mother is a heavy drinker, narcissistic and has been emotionally and occasionally physically abusive to me since I was 14 (telling me she hates me and that everyone else hates me, tells me how horrible I am, tells me that I should kill myself and do everyone a favour, threatened to stab me in my sleep, hit me on the occasion, bit me, threw things at me, including heavy things and glass, strangled me). There was also manipulation tactics like gaslighting, she alienated me from others by telling her friends and family how awful I was. Pushed me into meltdowns and got me to lash out, to which she called the police and got me arrested and made me look like the bad one on multiple occasions.
My father was a drug addict who died when I was 14, I saw him less than ten times my whole life, he grew drugs in my room when I was an infant, my most distinct memory is him coming to my house very late one night when I was around 9 or 10 talking about demons and bad spirits.
Addiction runs in my family (my father's father is an equally heavy drinker, his mother is a drug addict who ran a brothel), so the addictive tendencies have been past down to me.
I probably was addicted to porn by 13, and had been feeding it for years without knowing it.
My adopted grandfather died when I was 4, and my adopted grandmother (which I lived with from birth) who was my guiding light, died less than a week before my dad did.
The only father figure I really had (who was an alcoholic but otherwise very good with me) was my mother's partner who she met when I was 6, and he died when I was 8.
I was also very close to my mother's best friend, who had been more of a mother to me than my actual one had been some time died when I was 17.
My mother had an abusive ex who stalked her and threatened to set fire to the house, who also left ranting letters and stood in the back garden at night, so we lived in fear of stuff like that for over a year from when I was 12 through 13.
She also had an abusive lodger who was an even heavier drinker than she is, so from when I was 14 through 16 I witnessed them physically fight, both get arrested and on a few occasions I had to defend her from him.
Many of my friends have betrayed me over the years (I know I'm one to talk) but when this started to happen I would have never dreamed of betraying anyone, personal stuff was shared about me which I trusted them with, there was a lot of bad talking about me without me knowing. My toe closest friend turned on me at age 12 and isolated me from my other friends, I blamed myself at the time which I why I moved schools at 13 since I thought I was just making everyone miserable.
I didn't get diagnosed with autism until I was q9 despite trying to get it since I was 12, it hurt knowing I had been paying my whole life for being different, feeling ashamed of who I am (and rightly so now really), wondering why what I said was offensive, why I didn't understandfulky why this was wrong, why I was so sensitive to jokes, why I took e everyhing literally, why I made impulsive and reckless decisions without understanding the consequences of them.
I was never considered attractive and was ridiculed for it (girls used to jokingly flirt with me to torment me at school). I'm 5'6, always have struggled with weight, hairline started receding at 16, eczema so my skin is always red, dry and flaky, really bad diastema and acid reflux which means it's really hard to make my breath smell nice and my teeth are very worn because of it. I have had sex with someone who was older than me and we were both consenting adults, and we were both very respectful of boundaries.
I was also desensitised to other things slide gore and violence, I played a lot of violent video games when I was a kid, my mother is really into controversial shock movies (she got me to watch Cannibal Holocaust with her when I was 11).
The worst part about all of this is the fact all my friends who I love would hate me if they knew about what I've done so, none of them would trust me anymore or respect me, which is what friendships are all about right? So in a way they feel strange, they feel fake.
I could never find a relationship or true love because nobody wants to date a serial sex offender.
I hate knowing the fact I'm a sex offender, it's eating me alive.
I'm not registered and there is no real proof of what I did, so I can't turn myself in or anything.
I want to do good in the world, I have so much love to give, but it feels wrong me helping people because it feels like there is a sinister undertone to everything I do.
I've always enjoyed being charitable, I love giving money to the homeless or putting change in a donations box.
I feel guilty whenever I feel hapoy since I don't deserve to be, the only things that I enjoy now are food and playing video games, it's the only job I get out of day to day life.
The only fate I deserve is being stabbed to death in prison or something.
All I want is to be loved and accepted despite my flaws and mistakes, but I never could be.
The only other person I've told is my mother, who has been supportive.
I've been on antidepressants since 18 and I'm trying to get therapy, but I'm not hoping or expecting anything good will happen from this. I've been in and out of therapy since I was 11.
I had dreams, I had aspirations, I wanted to change the world for the better, I wanted to have a son, not to hurt him, but so he doesn't end up like me, but I reliase that is not possible. I don't deserve to be around children.
I hate keeping secrets, but I have no choice but to keep this one.
I want to identify with good people, but I can't.
Every good thing I do is invalidated now.
I forgive everyone who has wronged me in anyway, since I'm worse than them.
I just pray I can go out doing good, doing the right thing.
I am no better than Jimmy Saville, Ian Watkins or any of them types of people.
If you want to motivate me to end it all, feel free.
If you have read through all of this, thank you.

May 30, 2006 (Coleman Household)
Officer Jones escorted Dre to The Coleman household in cuffs only releasing them once they were inside.
(Officer Jones) Ms.Coleman the owner of the store decided not to press charges because your son is still a minor, but next time he might not be so lucky. I suggest he spend more time with father and less time with these thugs in the streets.
(Ms.Coleman) Thank you officer Jones, have a blessed day. See you on Sunday.
The officer leaves as Dre sits on the couch unwilling to meet his mother’s eyes.
(Ms.Coleman) Welp Andre I would like to say I’m surprised but we both know that would be a lie. These days you spend more time in handcuffs then in school. Running around this city with those boys like some demon!
Dre continued to look away.
(Dre) Don’t call me that.
(Ms.Coleman) Well what else should I call you? All those years of Bible classes I took you to surely didn’t make you into no saint. Boy all I’ve ever done is try and keep you on a righteous path and you have done nothing but fight me every step of the way. You’re just like your no good daddy, just born to be wicked. You wouldn’t know God’s presence if he was standing in front of you.
(Dre) Isaiah 29:13
(Ms.Coleman) Excuse me?
Dre looked up tears in his eyes.
(Dre) You honor God with your lips but your heart is far from him. All you have ever done is call me a no good demon just like my dad! Told me everyday I would be nothing and a bum just like him! Mom this is a nigga I’ve never even met!
(Ms.Coleman) I don’t know how you talk out there but you will watch your mouth in my house!
(Dre) See that’s what I’m talking about! You think it’s okay to call your son a demon but I’m a sinner if I say nigga! Mom you want me to know God when you don’t. You just know that church you go to.
(Ms.Coleman) …Well don’t talk back to me in my house! Everything I do for you I’ve done by myself! Show some gratitude for once in your life!
(Dre) It’s not my fault you let some random nigga hit and had to raise me alone! Stop blaming me for that shit!
Ms.Coleman mouth opened wide as she went to the door and swung it open.
( Ms.Coleman) Get out my house and don’t come back Lucifer.
(Dre) Fuck it!
Dre walked out slamming the door behind him!

I extracted the NHTSA reports for the incidents in the Waymo investigation. There are 22 incidents, these are just the ones in the NHTSA database, not including the handful of non-crash ones such as driving on the wrong side of the road. These reports are vague and in the ones marked as crashes with other vehicles, there is no information on who was at fault or other useful stuff. But the long and short of it is that out of a million trips, if these are the crashes most worth investigating, it's pretty mild stuff. I will write up more on this later for Forbes' site. Passengers were present in the vehicles for 11 of these, no injuries.

• On February [XXX], 2024 at 1:42 AM MT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ("Waymo AV") operating in Phoenix, Arizona was in a collision involving debris on [XXX] towards [XXX].
• On February [XXX], 2024 at 10:01 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ("Waymo AV") operating in Los Angeles, California was in a collision involving a gate at [XXX] and [XXX].
• On January [XXX], 2024 at 8:03 AM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Scottsdale, Arizona was in a collision involving an automatic gate in an apartment complex parking lot entrance on [XXX] near [XXX].
• On January [XXX], 2024 at 4:50 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Phoenix, Arizona was in an event involving a rock in the road on [XXX] past [XXX].
• On January [XXX], 2024 at 12:35 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Gilbert, Arizona was in an event involving parking lot spikes at a parking lot entrance on [XXX] near [XXX].
• This report includes the following updates to the initial report submitted on January 14, 2024 [REDACTED, MAY CONTAIN CONFIDENTIAL BUSINESS INFORMATION]: corrected event year in the narrative from 2023 to 2024 LOCATION ADDRESS / DESCRIPTION field updated to reflect the location listed in the narrative clarifications added to the narrative and correction to the Waymo AVs mileage. The remainder is unchanged from the initial report.
• On January [XXX], 2023 at 10:52AM PT a rider of a moped lost control of the moped they were operating and fell and slid in front of a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ("Waymo AV") operating in San Francisco, California on [XXX] at [XXX] neither the moped nor its driver made contact with the Waymo AV.
• On November [XXX] , 2023 at 10:09 AM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Tempe, Arizona was in a collision involving a chain in a parking lot at [XXX].
• On October [XXX], 2023 at 1:29 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Phoenix, Arizona was in a collision involving an automatic gate in a parking lot driveway at Central High School.
• On October [XXX], 2023 at 6:53 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Phoenix, Arizona experienced underbody damage in a construction zone on [XXX] near [XXX].
• On July [XXX], 2023 at 11:11 AM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in San Francisco, California was in a collision involving an SUV on [XXX] east of [XXX].
• On[XXX], 2023 at 8:48 PM PT a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in San Francisco, California was in a collision involving a passenger vehicle on [XXX] at [XXX}.
• On March [XXX], 2023 at 8:27 PM PST a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in San Francisco was in a collision involving a fixed object on [XXX] near [XXX].
• On February [XXX], 2023 at 5:43 AM PST a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ("Waymo AV") operating in San Francisco, California was in a collision involving road debris on [XXX] at [XXX].
• Other than the updated Speed Limit field, the content of this report is unchanged from the initial report submitted on December 5, 2022 [REDACTED, MAY CONTAIN CONFIDENTIAL BUSINESS INFORMATION].
• On December [XXX], 2022 at 9:05 PM PST a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle (Waymo AV) operating in Phoenix, Arizona was in a collision involving a fixed object in a parking lot on the 4100 block of [XXX].
• On September [XXX], 2021 at 1:56 AM PDT, a Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ('Waymo AV') operating in San Francisco was in a collision involving an unoccupied parked passenger vehicle at the north end of [XXX] (a dead-end road).
• Other than the addition of the zip code in which the incident occurred, the content of this report is unchanged from the initial report submitted on September [XXX], 2021 [REDACTED, MAY CONTAIN CONFIDENTIAL BUSINESS INFORMATION]. On August [XXX], 2021 at 5:41 PM PDT, Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ("Waymo AV") operating in San Francisco was in a collision involving an unoccupied parked passenger vehicle at [XXX]. While performing a multipoint turn at the north end of [XXX] (a dead-end road), the Waymo AV was in reverse at approximately 2 MPH when it made contact with the front driver's side door of an unoccupied parked passenger vehicle. The Waymo AV was in autonomous mode until just before making contact, when the test driver transitioned the Waymo AV into manual mode. The contact caused minor scuffing and a small dent in the door handle of the parked vehicle's driver door and minor damage to the plastic sensor housing on the Waymo AV's rear passenger's side.Waymo is reporting this crash under Request No. 1 of Standing General Order 2021-01 because the Waymo AV was towed from the scene (though the Waymo AV was driveable). Waymo may supplement or correct its reporting with additional information as it may become available. This report was submitted from the Pacific time zone on the required date.
• On August [XXX], 2021 at 5:41 PM PDT, Waymo Autonomous Vehicle ('Waymo AV') operating in San Francisco was in a collision involving an unoccupied parked passenger vehicle at [XXX]. While performing a multipoint turn at the north end of [XXX] (a dead-end road), the Waymo AV was in reverse at approximately 2 MPH when it made contact with the front driver's side door of an unoccupied parked passenger vehicle. The Waymo AV was in autonomous mode until just before making contact, when the test driver transitioned the Waymo AV into manual mode. The contact caused minor scuffing and a small dent in the door handle of the parked vehicle's driver door and minor damage to the plastic sensor housing on the Waymo AV's rear passenger's side.

Initial Contact: Description, First Impressions
I was outside, grinding corn, grinding it with the mano, over and over. I couldn't hear the screams of Chimalli, my older brother. He was sprinting, so fast, he tripped over the metate and spilled the corn. “Watch it, you fool!” I shouted, worried that I may get beaten. Nantli didn’t like food waste, and she wouldn’t care that it was foolish Chimalli’s fault. He was gasped for air, his hands on his knees. “Acalan… and I…were hunting…” He stopped and took a deep breath. “We were by the water when we saw this fish, a fish of great size. It wasn’t in the water, it was on top of it! It was brown, and atop it was 10 feet monsters with light skin!” I barked a laugh. “You’d better stop lying, Chimalli.” I decided to put the already ground corn back on the metate and take off the grass left in it. “I swear on the gods I'm not lying! I swear on Huitzilopochtli! Quetzalcoatl! All of them, I swear!”
I rolled my eyes, put the mano on the matate, and got up. “Show me what you’re talking about, fool.” Chimalli grabbed my hand tight and started running as fast as he could. I was whispering prayers to Patecatl, scared that what Chimalli was saying was true. We met up with Acalan and hid behind a bush near the lake. We could see the white-skinned people, and they were covered with weird clothing. They spoke loudly, in a peculiar way. They waved their hands around like birds and marched fiercely like jaguars. My heart was beating so loud, I was scared that Acalan and Chimalli would hear it. “They look so weird,” I whispered. The marched along, with their weird looking animals, amd were headed towards our causeway! Chimalli, Acalan and I exchanged a worried glance. Slowly and carefully, we all left our bush and headed back to the calpolli.
I went inside and saw Nantli sitting down, weaving. When she saw me, her face twisted in rage. “You dare spill the corn, leave the metate and mano unattended, and leave with the boys!? What were you even doing?” I shifted on my feet. Nantli was scary, but hse was understanding. Sometimes. “There are monsters on our land! They have big animals, a big brown fish that can swim ontop of water, and pale skin! The don’t speak Nahuatl, too!” i blurted out everything i saw, even if it didnt make sense. Chimalli was beside me, nodding his head so vigorously that it looked like it was about to fall off. Nantli got even more angry and said, “If you don’t stop lying this instant, i will call your Tahtli!” Chimalli and i both said in unison: NO!
“I swear on Huitzilopochtli! Tepeyollotl too! I even swear on Xolotl!” Chimalli cried as we were bothe getting pulled by the ear by Nantli. We were pulled outside, when we saw Tahtli. His face looked like he’d seen death. “Your foolish, lying children came to me talking nonsense about monsters with pale skin!” Nantli said, but Tahtli wasn’t fased. Tahtli was calmer then Nantli, and he was more wise. That was probably because he was a priest. However he was severe in punsiments. Nantli was all bark and no bite. Tahtli was bite, no bark, and when he did bite, it would last forever. He shook his head. “They're telling the truth. They are like us, but they have come from another land. Spain, they call it.” Nantli’s mouth was open so wide, I was trying my hardest not to laugh. She finally let go of me and Chimalli’s ear, her brows furrowing. “Did Moctezuma talk to them? Did you talk to them? How did they come here?” I side-stepped away from her, rubbing my ear. I exchanged a mischievous glance with Chimalli, and like a tiger, we left as fast and quietly as possible. In front of the door, Acalan was waiting for us impatiently and said, “Let’s go see them again. Maybe we’ll try to talk to them.” Chimalli raised his eyebrows. “Are you nuts!?” He exclaimed. I didn’t think it was a bad idea. Maybe we could understand their intentions. We never got to do that though. We never got to do anything.
Amoxtli
​
Spanish Conquest of the Aztecs
They kidnapped our ruler. The scary, stupid, dumb-looking monsters took our ruler. Foolish Chimalli brought it upon himself to save him. Nothing reasonable ever comes out of that stupid brain of his. He got killed doing it. Atleast he was brave. Braver than me, thats for sure. They have loud, long black tubes that shoot out fire. That killed him. Nantli hasn’t been the same, she doesn’t let me go to school anymore. Tahtli has fallen sick. Why is this happening? Is this a sign? Oh why, oh why? Oh gods, why?
I woke up, the rays of sunlight shining directly into my eyes. I got up, and to my right, was Acalan. He had decided to stay with us since all members of his calpolli had died unfateful deaths. His Nantli got sick, and his Tahtli and all of his other relatives died in the battle with the monsters. Whenever I start to pity myself, I remember Acalan. He’s got it worse. “Good morning,” I said. Acalan nodded, not uttering a word. He was looking outside, and his eyes had this aloof look to them. “Where’s Nantli?” I said, looking around the room. He mumbled something, but I couldn’t hear it. I sensed that he obviously wasn’t okay, so i scooched beside him and put a hand on his shoulder. “It's okay, just try not to think too much about it. I know how you feel, the gods will help us out.” I said softly. He shrugged my hand off his shoulder, and moved away from me. He was looking hard at the ground and whispered, “How can you be so sure?”
“Huh?”
“I said,” He looked at me square in the eye. “How can you be so sure? That’s what everybody’s been saying, but I'm getting tired of it. Face it, Amoxtli. The gods have done nothing for us. They’re just a bunch of stupid stories to scare us. My calpolli would still be here, alive and well. Those monsters wouldn’t have come here. The gods aren’t real.”
I sat there, stunned. What was he saying? He must be mad, because this isn’t the Acalan I know. The Acalan I know was so devout, more than I was. Maybe the grief got him bad. “And no, you don't know how I feel. You will never know how I feel. You ever think about jabbing a spear into your chest? You ever thought about jumping off the mountains, and drowning yourself underwater? You ever think of that? Huh?” Acalan continued. And before I knew it, he was sobbing. Acalan, the soon-to-be soldier who had never shed a tear, the boy whose heart was made out of stone, was crying. He was saying something in between sobs, but I couldn’t understand it. His face was buried in his hands. The truth is, no, I have never thought about any of those things. I didn’t know that Acalan was this affected by it. Maybe I’m the foolish one.
A few hours later, I told Nantli about what Acalan had been saying, except the blasphemous things. That brought out a side of her that i never knew she had. Her face softened, and she nodded with understanding. She comforted Acalan, giving him words of reassurance. Nantli sent me out to get water, since Chimalli wasn’t here to do it anymore. Every passing day I miss him more and more. As i walked through the village, I heard loud, bone-rattling screams. The monsters were pushing and shoving their way into the houses, and coming out with valuables. I stood there, frozen in place watching it all happen. A tall monster stood in front of me, and all I could do was stand there, looking stupid as we both stared at each other. He scowled and grabbed my bucket, throwing it on the floor. “Hey…!” I said quietly. He kicked my bucket and continued walking. I don’t know why I didn’t do anything. I don't know why I just stood there, acting clueless.
I left the bucket and ran, far far away, near the lake. I sat down and dipped my feet in the water, trying to calm down. I saw Acalan in the distance, sauntering towards me. He finally arrived, and joined me, dipping his feet in the lake. We greeted each other, exchanging awkward small talk and sat in silence. “Maybe this is how the world will end.” He said suddenly. I nodded. If that's the case, then I wish it would've waited sooner. I had so much to do, and so much to see, I wanted to be a doctor, and raise warriors. If the world really is ending, I would just be a foolish, scared girl with no importance. Chimalli never got a chance to be the warrior he’s always dreamed of. “If the world is ending, then it's a shame that you won’t be a warrior.” I sighed. “I don't want to be a warrior.” He said sharply. “Isn't that what you always wanted? To be a warrior?” He shook his head vigorously. I furrowed my brows. “Then what do you want to be?”
“Nothing.” He said. Nothing? How could someone not want to be anything? I decided to let it be, and we sat in silence once again.
-Amoxtli
Outcome of the conquest on Aztec Society:
I'm starting to realize that what Acalan said two years ago was true. The gods did nothing. Tahtli passed, and Nantli is sick, she's in horrible condition. I caught Acalan trying to hurt himself twice. He’s been in bad condition as well, even to the point where he hallucinates about his Nantli and his Tahtli and his Achcāuhtli. It's really bad for him. If the gods really cared, they’d put a stop to this madness. If they really cared, we’d be flourishing, and winning against those damned Spaniards. I'm starting to get sick too. At this point, if you don't die in war, you die of sickness, if you don't die of that, you die of starvation. I’ve learned some Spanish, and I'm thinking of converting to whatever their religion is. A few priests came to the village, rambling on and on about their religion. I understood a few words, but not much though.
“You’re so naive, you know that?” Acalan said when I told him about the new religion. I rolled my eyes. “You could give this a chance. Maybe their god will help us.” He shook his head. “Never. If Huitzilopochtli, all-powerful, god of war, can't even help us,” He said in a mocking tone, “Then how will another help us? It's all the same.” I shrugged. “It's worth a shot.” Just then, I heard Nantli cough a hoarse, horrible cough. I jumped up and quickly went to her. I gave her a cup of water and some piptzahuac. After a long coughing fit, she finally caught her breath and said, “I heard what you and Ancalan were saying. He is a bad influence.” My heart felt like it would leap right out of my mouth. Despite this, I kept my calm and tried not to show any emotion. “What?” I said, trying to act clueless. Looking back, it was a stupid thing to do since Nantli already heard everything.
tbc

The world was a boozy whirl of lights and sounds. Images, broken and fragmented, came and went. Voices, laughter, screaming. The ground pitched like the deck of a tempest-tossed ship, and he felt heavy, as though the ground were pulling him to it. C’mere, Dommy. He fell, lay on the pavement, and pushed himself up again, staggering like a drunk on his way home. His head spun, his body ached, and things seemed blurry, like half-formed images glimpsed underwater.
It was the light blue hour before dawn and Dom was…somewhere. He should have recognized the stores and street signs around him, but he didn’t. His head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and a sense of confusion gripped him so strongly that he was beginning to panic. Where was he? What happened?
The world spun away again and the next thing he knew, he was lying in a heap of garbage bags, used needles, and rubbish. He came awake with a jerk and sat up so fast that a bolt of pain jammed into his skull. He winced and pressed his hand to his forehead. He felt hot, clammy.
Something was seriously wrong.
Somehow he got to his feet again and started walking. The sun was up now and the streets were filled with people. They all sneered in disgust as he passed, and he wrapped his arms around his chest like a baby comforting itself. He was getting cold. His muscles were sore. Tears streamed down his face and he wanted to cry.
Going on instinct alone, Dom made his way back home and climbed the steps to his apartment. Exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against the door as he dug in his pocket for the keys. They shook in his hand and he had to focus really hard to get the key into the lock.
Inside, he collapsed onto the couch and his eyelids instantly drooped. He was so weary that he couldn’t lift his head, couldn’t form a single coherent thought. Dom felt himself starting to sink, and snapped his eyes open with a start. Something in his soul told him that if he slept, he would die.
He couldn’t help it, though. He was falling, tumbling, hands reaching up from hell to grab him. His eyes fluttered closed again and the world started to go dark, his heart slamming in fear. He tried to fight, but the pull of darkness was too strong, too alluring. Why was he fighting? Why not just…give up? Hadn’t he thought of killing himself before? Didn’t he hate his life and himself? What was there to fight for? A wife? Kids? A community that loved and respected him? Shit, affordable groceries?
No.
There was nothing.
He had nothing and was nothing.
A sense of peace blossomed from the darkness, and suddenly death didn’t seem so scary. In fact, it was warm…inviting.
It was life that was cold and hateful. Not death.
Death accepted you no matter who you were. It didn’t reject you…it didn’t ignore you. If you sought it, you would find it, and if you embraced it, it would embrace you.
With that thought in mind, Dom gave up.
And died.
***
Bruce Kenner, captain of the 5th Albany precinct, sat behind his desk on the morning of June 28 and lazily leafed through a stack of files as he sipped from a mug of coffee. A roughly built man with a dark goatee and graying blonde hair, he looked more like a small town southern sheriff than a low level public works functionary. In fact, he tended to act like it too. He liked to hunt, fish, and drink beer on his off time. Albany wasn’t a big city, but it was big enough that you never got a fucking break. Run here, run there, arrest this asshole, investigate that asshole. By the time Friday rolled around, he was so ready for the peace and tranquility of a fishing trip he could taste it.
Already this Monday morning, he was looking forward to another one.
Over the weekend, three kids went missing in the Pine Hills and Washington Park area, bringing the total for that summer up to eight. All were teenagers, all were troubled. Most were boys, but two were girls.
Troubled kids run away all the time. They might be gone a few days, sulking at a friend’s house over something their father or mother did, but they’d eventually come home. None of these kids had come back yet and from what he knew, a few of them weren’t the runaway types. They were shits at school and caused problems, but they had no reason to up and leave. Hell, Bruce himself raised hell as a kid, but he always found his way back home, even if he spent the previous night dying in a field from Mad Dogg 20/20 poisoning.
One or two kids going missing…okay, it happens. Eight? Over a span of four weeks?
Yeah, something was wrong here.
But what?
There was nothing on any of these kids. No one saw them, no one knew anything - one minute they were here, the next they weren’t. What could he or anyone else do with that?. The public broke cops’ balls all the time, but if you don’t have evidence, you don’t have evidence. What do you want? Door to door searches? Roadblocks? Dogs and helicopters? Yeah, then when you actually do it, they cry fascism. Guess I’ll just use my Spidey Senses.
Bruce wished he had spidey senses. He wanted to find these kids as much as anyone, and he was starting to get pissed off that he couldn’t. He took another sip from his mug and read on. The latest kids to go missing were three boys between the ages of fourteen and eighteen.
They were all white, all thin (except for one). If there was a serial killer in town - and Bruce hoped to fuck there wasn’t - he had a type. What, black kids aren’t good enough to kill, cannibalize, and wear like a skin suit? They should charge him with a hate crime for discrimination.
That way he’d actually stay locked up.
The door opened and Vanessa Rodregiez, his deputy, came in. A tall, shapely Hispanic woman with dark eyes and a mouth poised always on the edge of a smile, she wore her black hair in a ponytail that would look stern and severe on anyone else, but on her, looked childlike. She was twenty-seven and had been on the force for three years, but you could be forgiven for thinking her much younger. “Bright and early, I see,” she said with a grin.
Bruce grumbled.
Vanessa held down the fort during the graveyard shift, acting to the night as he acted to the day. She was young and full of energy, which clashed with Bruce, who was old and just wanted to be left alone. Despite their differences, Bruce loved her like a kid sister…an annoying kid sister he wanted to throat punch sometimes.
“You missed all the fun last night,” she said and parked her butt on the edge of Bruce’s desk. He glared at her, but she ignored him.
“Good,” he said. Then: “What happened?”
“Big fight outside of Club Vlad,” she said. “It looked like a WorldStar video.”
For a moment, Bruce was lost. “Club what?”
“Club Vlad,” Vanessa said. “Where the Fuze Box used to be.”
Ah, right. The Fuze Box was an Albany landmark, a night club for punks…or goths…or someone. Certainly not for Bruce Kenner. It was small, dingy, and always had people in black waiting outside. On Friday and Saturday nights, it blasted strange music with lyrics about fighting The Man. Kids had been fighting the Man since before Bruce was even born and they hadn’t beaten him yet. Kudos to them for still trying.
Last year, The Fuze Box closed down and someone else bought it. It reopened last month and looked more or less the same: Posers, shitty music, and spiked hair. So much spiked hair. “Place is still a pain in the ass,” Bruce said.
“Yep,” Vanessa chirped. “It doesn’t know what it wants to be now. One minute they play nightcore, the next EDM. It’s all over the place.”
Bruce raised a quizzical brow.
“Not that I’ve ever been there in my free time,” Vanessa said in a tone that suggested she had,
Bruce gave a judgemental hum.
“Anyway,” Vanessa went on, “you see we have some new missing persons?”
Sighing, Bruce sat back in his chair. “Yeah. I did.”
“People are starting to ask questions,” Vanessa warned.
That brought a terse smile to Bruce’s weathered face. “Maybe they’ll solve it then.”
“Ha, fat chance,” Vanessa said. She got up and stretched. “Anyway, I’m bushed. Here’s my…” she trailed off and looked at her empty hands. “Damn, where’s my report? I just had it?” She turned in a confused circle as if she might be able to spot her report making a break for it. “Huh,” she said. She left the office and came back a moment later holding a folder. “Found it,” she grinned.
Bruce just looked at her.
“Um…here it is.”
He didn’t take it.
Her smile faltered. She carefully sat it on top of the files Bruce was looking at.
And his hands.
“I’ll just leave that right here.” She patted it for good measure.
“Thank you,” Bruce said.
“Okay. Night.”
“Goodnight,” Bruce said as she left through a shaft of morning sunlight. Alone, Bruce sat her report aside and went back to the missing kids. This case was giving him a headache and it wasn’t even nine. With a deep sigh, he slumped back in his chair and drummed his fingers on the armrests.
Was it Saturday yet?
He could really use a fishing trip.
***
Dom came awake in the cold purple twilight with a shocked gasp like a man coming up seconds before drowning. His eyes strained from his sweaty face and his mouth hung slack, twisted in a gruesome parody of The Scream. His mind was muddled, murky - he didn’t know where he was or even who he was, but he knew this,.
He couldn’t breathe.
He opened and closed his mouth like a fish, but his lungs did not fill with air. A great, unseen weight seemed to bear down on his chest, and panic gripped him. He tried to move, but his arms refused to heed his brain’s command. The weight seemed heavier, all over, crushing him like a bug. Confusion filled him and he started to pant.
Without warning, his bowels and bladder loosened, and horrible wetness filled his pants. He tried to sit up, but his body felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. His chest rose and fell with the frantic labor of his breath, but his lungs remained inert. A cry of fear bubbled up inside of him, but escaped his mouth only as a breathy groan.
A bust of adrenaline shot through him and he tried to stand, but succeeded only in falling off the couch instead, landing face first against the cold tile floor. He felt his nose crunch, but the pain was muted.
Dom thought he lost consciousness after that, but wasn’t sure. His next memory was of shivering so violently that his teeth clacked together. A phantom chill - perhaps from the floor - had settled into his bones, and was colder than he had ever been in his life, colder even than the time he fell into a snowbank and got lost when he was two. Shudders racked his body, and though he tried to turn over, he was too fucking heavy. It was like every muscle in his body had turned to dead weight. Fragmented thoughts swirled in his head, faint colors in the dark, but he couldn’t put any of them together.
With great effort, he managed to push himself slightly up, but a wave of lightheadedness crashed over him and he lowered his head once more. He stopped trying and simply lay there. Shortly, his eyes began to burn and he realized that he wasn’t blinking. Jesus Christ, he wasn’t blinking.
For some strange reason, that brought a fresh bout of panic. He started to hyperventilate, but his lungs still wouldn’t work. He wasn’t blinking…he wasn’t breathing…what was happening to him?
A whimper burst from his throat and he started to cry.
He must have cried himself to sleep, because he woke sometime later to the most intense headache he’d ever had. It felt like something was eating his brain from the inside out. He was sore all over, and could feel his muscles twitching, as though a thousand living things were burrowing through his body. A cramp shot down his right leg, and the toes of his left foot curled involuntarily. Slowly, his jaw clenched closed, and the muscles in his neck began to strain…then to burn. His panic turned to terror, and Dom wiggled across the floor like a worm, his limbs screaming in red agony and his brain filling with heat. He somehow wound up on his right side, and his arms curled slowly up to his chest, crossing at the wrists like a mummy. He tried to pull them apart, but the slightest movement sent waves of excruciating pain cutting through his body. His knees began to draw up to his stomach, and his fingers clenched tightly.
Cramps and spasms attacked every muscle in his body. He screamed through his teeth and shook, resembling a man in the electric chair as 40,000 volts of justice coursed through him. The pain grew gradually, getting worse and worse as minutes ticked by like hours. Higher, higher, higher - he clenched his eyes closed and shrieked as it became unbearable. Disjointed thoughts flashed through his mind - prayers, threats, curses, Jesus fucking…FUCK.
What was happening? God, what was happening to him? Was it fentanyl? He’d seen videos of people high on fentanyl, and they leaned in weird positions. He didn’t do drugs but maybe he ingested it somehow.
His panic may have returned if all of his muscles hadn’t picked that moment to contract as one. His eyes bulged from their sockets and his jaw unclenched just enough for him to utter a high. Agonized scream that echoed through his empty apartment like thunder.
A human being can only take so much before giving out. When the pain reached a crescendo, and Dom mercifully sank into consciousness once more. The sun rose and cascaded through the apartment’s sole window, falling over his huddled form. Slowly, it tracked across the sky before setting again. As the last rays disappeared behind the horizon, Dom’s eyes opened. The pain of the night before was blessedly gone, replaced by a feeling of numbness - the cool ash after the hot fire. His thoughts were slow and thick like molasses, but he could actually think again. Nightmare memories flooded back to him, but he wasn’t sure they were real. He was lying on his side, his arms wrapped around his chest as if for warmth, and his teeth lightly chattered against the icy chill. He was so cold that he didn’t want to move, but he couldn’t stay here forever. He needed help. He needed…
A shower.
Yeah, a hot shower. That would warm him up.
Gritting his teeth, he slowly sat up, ready for a burst of pain.
But none came.
He did, however, feel heavy. Getting to his feet, he stumbled and nearly fell, catching himself against the counter. His limbs had no feeling. It’s like they weren’t even there. Head hung, Dom tried to catch his breath, but it felt like he wasn’t breathing at all. His eyelids drooped closed and he felt like he was going to fall down. Summoning all the might he could, he shuffled into the bathroom with the stiff gait of an old man. He snapped the light on, and cold, white brilliance filled the space, blinding him.
Leaning heavily against the sink, he gripped the cold porcelain. Suddenly, he was afraid of looking into the mirror. He was sure that whatever reflection he saw, it would be of something else, something monstrous.
Dom lifted his head and faced the glass.
His heart shrank.
The man in the mirror was him but different. His skin was white as milk, lacking all color whatsoever save for the ugly purple patch on the left side. IResembling a giant bruise, it started at the temple and extended down to the slope of his neck, disappearing beneath his T-shirt. He gingerly lifted the shirt, and moaned when he saw that his entire left side was discolored, the purple edged with a puffy shade of pink. His sallow skin clung tight to his ribcage, and his hip bones stuck out so much it looked painful. Back in the mirror, his cheeks were sunken, hollow, and his eyes were a hazy, dishwater gray. His skull seemed bigger, his hair longer. Dom wanted to whip his head away from the phantom before him, to never see it again, but he was transfixed.
There was no way that thing was -
Dom looked away, cutting that thought off before it could finish.
A shower.
He needed a shower.
Slowly, stiffly, Dom undressed, peeling off his shirt and his soiled pants. He dropped them in a heap on the floor and stepped under the spray. He could feel the water pounding against him, but it provided no heat. It was neither hot nor cold. It was simply there.
Dom pressed his head to the slick shower wall and stood there for a long time. He was spent, tired, and fried - he had no more emotions left to give. He got out after a little while, dried off, and put on a clean pair of shorts. He settled into bed and lay there with his hands folded over his chest and his eyes open. They felt gritty, dry. His stomach felt bloated, gassy. He was drowsy now, the weight of the past two days (or was it two weeks?) coming down on him all at once. He closed his eyes and fell asleep.
He was still asleep - but aware - when the knocking on his door started the next morning. Time was funny in this state of being, fast and jerky but also slow and echoing. Keys rattled the knob turned. The landlord came in with a cop. They saw him on the bed, laid out like a corpse for a viewing, and the cop radioed in a code 35. Soon, cops were all around him, making noise and touching things. He had the vague sense of discomfort and embarrassment at the intrusion. A baling man in a suit stood over him, a cop who looked like a redneck beside him. “He didn’t die here,” the medical examiner said.
The cop looked at him questioningly. Dom caught the name KENNER on his name tag.
“See this?” the M.E. said and gestured to Dom’s face. “That’s livor mortis. When you die, your blood pools at the lowest point. If you’re on your left side, for example, it pools on the left.”
Kenner looked at Dom and then back to the M.E. “Someone moved him?”
“Looks like it,” the M.E. said.
“When did he die?”
The M.E. examined Dom as though he were nothing more than a side of beef. “At a glance? Three days. I won’t have a better answer until I open him up.”
Dom was still awake when they put him into a body bag and zipped it up. He felt a stirring of fear beneath the cold numbness, but he was too tired to worry about it now.
Later, he thought.
He would panic later.
For now, Dom slept.

Hello!
I've been collecting haunted objects for the last 5-6 years but I've recently been public with it.
I'm currently helping someone who has something very negative in their home. It's also affected me as well which has been super awesome!😅.
This person lets call them S was telling me some extra stuff of what S was going through over text. They gave some information and it immediately clicked for me so I ran to grab a book to show her some images and as I went to hit "send" I heard the loudest bang in my house, something I've never experienced. I had music up loud and the bang was louder than the music. My dog got up growling and all I could do was stare at my living room door in completer fear. It felt like there was something stood behind my living room door, the level of fear again was something I've not experienced. Just yesterday S told me the entity in her home hides behind doors.
I've read about spirits interrupting getting help by affecting the person who is helping. I personally believe whatever is in her house showed a sign that it didn't want her to get help. After the bang I just walked out the house for 15 minutes before getting the courage to go back in.
It was terrifying but awesome
I'm still chatting to S. She has gave me some images and drawing of the entity so I can put them up in my collection room