Hot things to say to your boyfriend over text

Hi Everyone! I’ve always loved good smelling stuff and for the last 15 years I’ve usually had one bottle of cologne, and would replace once it’s out. Only in the last few months have I really delved into this world and began filling out a modest collection. I’m definitely not an expert (so take my reviews with a big grain of salt) but I love smelling and writing so here ya go. (Fucking wall of text incoming lmao, I didn’t realize how lengthy this got)
I just got back from a three-hour mall trip to try and get my nose on as many niche fragrances as my senses would tolerate. I had already done a good bit of research so I had some picked out to try and others already crossed-off. Im a 30M for reference.
I also had the goal in mind to find a contender for a fall/winter scent that exudes class, sophistication and decadence. For that, I’ve already tried a few that I really enjoy, and kind of used these as a springboard to continue exploring:
Xerjoff Alexandria II- This is what I envision royalty wearing. Lavender and rosewood mix soooo nice in the open, and dries into a lovey rose/vanilla/essence of oud. The oud is really toned down here for those that dislike it. It’s kind of hard to pick out. Nuclear performance.
Initio Oud for Greatness- Another good starter oud, you could say (this was my introduction to oud). It lasts forever and the dry down is seriously heavenly. The wet, soily oud is at the forefront for 2-4 hours, but I’m absolutely in love with what’s left when it disappears. Lavender, saffron, nutmeg and musk mixes into the best dryer-sheet-like scent I’ve come across (what it reminds ME of at least).
Perfums de Marly Haltane- Quite similar in the opening to Oud for Greatness. Haltane is darker, though, where I get more leathesmoke. I think the oud in this is more subdued, or at least less moist smelling. It blends well and lasts a good while.
Initio Atomic Rose- Holy shit. Apparently rose gets my motor GOING. I tried a lot of rose-centric fragrances today, but this probably still takes the cake for its balance and strength, in addition to the scent itself being just gorgeous.
So with those in mind I was off to Neiman Marcus. I sampled a large amount more than what I’ve written, but stuck to the ones that were memorable; good or bad.
Frederic Malle - Portrait of a Lady- My favorite of the Frederic Malle. Sensual rose/clove/currant at the front, but it is kind of hard to pick out specific notes on this one. After looking, I can get the cinnamon in the background of the dry down, it blends perfectly with the sandalwood, rose and benzoin after drying down. - Carnal Flower- Some similarity to POAL, lots of tuberose and jasmine, which I personally like. A bright yet sensual floral, and you get some coconut and melon there, too. I typically dislike coconut but this is blended masterfully. - Lipstick Rose- Yeah, that’s what it smells like. Try this if you’ve seen people describe scents as lipstick-y or violet taking on that accord. Not my cup of tea, also leans more feminine to my nose than the other two. - Musc Ravageur- I really wanted to like this one. And for a split second I did! A clove-y vanilla sasparilla is what I first got, and it unfortunately turned into barnyard urine. I immediately remembered seeing some reviews stating this, and I couldn’t get my nose to move past it. I can tell there’s good stuff there, but not for me.
Amouage - Reflection- The only one I’d tried before, and remains one of my favs. Rosemary and pink pepper greet you with a deep, fresh spice. The vetiver and patchouli sit nicely at the bottom, and the combination of white florals mixes wonderfully. Another scent I could imagine on royalty, and seems pretty versatile, too. You could wear this year-round without feeling out of place. Insane staying power. - Lyric- Probably my favorite, but I need to smell again on another day. Compared to the other Amouage, I had to continually stick my nose in the coffe beans to pick up the scent from the test strip. When I did get it, it was a lovely light, fresh scent. Quite a departure from the other Amouage I’ve tried, but great. No surprise, the list of notes are some of my favorites: lime, bergamot, rose, orange blossom, saffron, nutmeg, musk, pine, vanilla, incense, sandalwood. Seriously, love each and all those individually and they come together beautifully. - Interlude- Another good one. Dark, mysterious. Definitely get the oregano/peppepatchouli/incense bomb off the top. Leather lurking behind. I typically don’t gravitate toward the leathery scents but this one’s good. - Enclave- This pretty much seals the deal for me that on me, mint just ain’t it. I liked Sedley at first, but the mint somehow gets too cloying to my nose after too long. I can tell I would get the same from the peppermint in the opening of Enclave. I almost liked this one, too. If you can even tolerate peppermint, you’ll enjoy this one.
Mind Games - Blockade- Wowww. First sniff love, here. Explosion of citrus, juicy fruit-y sex. I usually find myself staying away from citrus but this shit is next level. This will be a contender for my next upscale summer buy. - Double Attack- Another love at first sniff. It’s familiar, though. Chocolate/orange/cinnamon/vanilla. You’ll want to eat it right up. I already have this box checked in my collection, but may come back to it in the future. - Checkmate- Another lovely scent. Champagne, red currant, rose, magnolia, little patchouli. It all comes together really nicely, and it was difficult for me to pick out specific notes before looking. Not a love, but I was really impressed with the quality and scent profile of the Mind Games I tried.
Clive Christian - Town & Country- Wow. No seriously, like fucking wow. Smells like an Italian fruit cart strolling through an English manor’s sprawling garden road. I look at the notes and I don’t understand how you get this smell supposedly out of Clary Sage, Ambergris, and Sandalwood. Like, what? This is high quality shit. I get some pear or grapes there, too. Try this. - Crab Apple Blossom- Yum yum yum this is goooood. Smells like it sounds. Bergamot, apple blossom and rhubarb dance around playfully together. Can’t help but have a big stupid smile on your face when you smell this. The more it dried down, the more it might be my favorite over Town & Country. - Matsukita- Another great scent. In the same vein as the other two since they are part of the same “Crown Collection.” You get some smokiness, here. Bergamot with nutmeg and mate give depth and a little mystery. White florals, woody ambers and musk at the base. Just quality stuff here. All three of these in the Crown Collection were available in 10ml travel size gift pack for $300. Good idea to put on my wish list. That shit is kiiiinda expensive.
Xerjoff - Erba Pura- I did not expect to like this as much as I did! Favorite that I sampled. Perfect combination of citrus and fruitiness off the top, layered over a bed of sweet musk. Something here is very familiar to my nose but I couldn’t place it. This will be another top contender for a future upscale summer purchase. - Accento- Soothing scent. Fruity white floral (usually dumb reach for me), and the iris gives it some powder but not overpowering. Not as feminine-leaning as I would have expected. - Iommi- Delicious! Sweet smoky rum off the top, and it’s a little surprising how forward the patchouli and leather is in this. It’s bordering on being a little overpowering, but it tames a bit on the dry down. I’d need to see how this goes on my skin, for sure. - Torino 21- Another one that I liked way more than expected. I’m going back and seeing mint listed as a top note here…I didn’t get that! And thank God since mint usually is a non-starter. Kind of an aquatic green to my nose. Again, just a lovely scent. - Naxos- Yeah ok this is good shit. I was expecting a sweet bomb, but this is definitely more restrained than what a lot of reviewers will have you believe. I’m a sucker for lavender and bergamot. Throw in honey and jasmine atop a bed of tobacco, vanilla and tonka bean? Yes please. - Erba Gold- Pretty good. To my nose more feminine than Erba Pura, likely due to the extra fruits in the middle. That combination of citruses, pear and melon is reminiscent of particular ladies’ scents.
Louis Vuitton - L’Immensité- Ohhhh yeahh. Relaxation in a bottle. My favorite besides maybe Fleur du Desert. This, Imagination and Météore all kind of dance to the same song, so to speak. More than one of these would be redundant, in my opinion. The quality speaks through each of these fragrances, though- really nice stuff. - Imagination- The name fits, as a lot of the notes here are almost fleeting like a word on the tip of your tongue. It’s a great, calming scent but it didn’t blow me away. Like I said, L’Immensité was the best of these and I don’t see the need to diversify within this collection. - Météore- Compared to L’Immensité, there’s a little more sweetness here. This leans closer to a shower gel-like scent in my opinion. Still great. - Fleur du Désert- This one started out reallly good. Honey and cinnamon into rose and orange blossom is an intriguing, sensual combination. Unfortunately, smelling it on my arm after a couple hours, the jasmine and honey turn into something my mind recognizes as an old lady scent. The POAL on my hand, by comparison, keeps mixing with my skin in a great pheromonic way. - Ombre Nomad- Disappointed with this one. I’m realizing I don’t gravitate toward darker scents like heavy oud, leather, incense. I can tell it’s put together really well and uses quality materials, but this isn’t one that was made for me.
All in all, my main take-aways include: Xerjoff scents living up to the name. I was definitely impressed with their offerings, and would have expected it to lean closer to overrated. Same with Mind Games. Really enjoyed everything I sampled from them, even if it wasn’t my cup of tea, I was impressed with the quality. Also, I need to get back and sample the rest of the Clive Christian house. I was absolutely blown away with what I tried.
A little bonus: I tried TF Noir de Noir, Extreme Noir, and Cafe Rose. Extreme Noir is excellent. A regal mix of saffron, nutmeg and cardamom on top of rose and white florals. Ahhhh, again, similar to what I imagine a king or king to smell like.
Cafe Rose is probably the second best rose-centric scent to my nose besides Atomic Rose. I’ll need to put those side by side.
Anyway, feel free to ask away if you’d like. I was bored and inspired so killed some time writing this out :)

Well, we knew each other at the beggining of 2021, initially as friends, we just started talking with each other with absolutely no other intentions, so i must say our relation developed very differently from all other relationships i've had before.
All the other relationships i had before kinda followed a script: A girl i found attractive, started developing a feeling of ''omg i want her so bad'', then i started talking to the girl and then boom, it happened, butterflies in the stomach, infatuation at its finest, but with her things developed very differently actually, almost like we had skipped the infatuation and jumped directly into a relationship based on a different kind of feeling, a feeling of being calm, at home with each other, at peace, comfortable, you know?
We became friends, started to talking to each other more, more and more, then at some point we started flirting with each other, feeling again more and more comfortable with each other, then after all of this we just started calling one another ''love'', talking to each other everyday, sharing all of our days, feelings, actually treating each other like a couple would, now the problem kicks in.
At the time we met i was 18 and she was 17, we felt sooo good with each other, a level of connection and you know, freedom to be who we really are that we never felt with literally anyone, but for the first 2 years of it we never had a serious conversation about commitment, about boundaries, wether or not it was a exclusive thing. And i won't lie, i would be sad if she did something with other guys, i knew she would be sad if i did too with other girls, even knowing that it wasn't exactly ''prohibited'' since we had never talked about it.
Well. in that meantime of the first 2 years, with this in mind, i ended up kissing 2 girls, nothing related to feelings, just 2 party kisses like ok we kissed now fuck off, and i also flirted with other girls with the same freedom i would have if i were single, and at that time i remember pretty well that it wasn't actually bothering me, i wasn't feeling that i was doing something tremendously wrong, but lets continue.
Time passed, i started thinking about all of those things and it REALLY started bothering me, i really started to think like ''wtf? i don't need any of this, none of these girls comes close to making me feel so good about everything we do together like she does'' and well, at this time, my friends, it started to absolutely consume me. I started thinking about how she would react if i told her about all of it, i started asking myself more and more why i gave myself this freedom in first place, why didn't i think about her feelings more before? I started feeling so fucking bad about it, to the point of crying thinking about the possibility of hurting her, etc etc.
Well reality is, i was dealing with her as my certainty for the future, my plan for the future, but not as my plan for the present, but at the same time i said nothing to her about this vision i had about us, cause deep inside i really didn't want to live a poligamous relationship you know? Never liked and never will like this idea, i just thought well, we are not serious yet, so it isn't wrong, it won't hurt her cause it's not something i have the obligation to tell her nor she have the obligation of telling me if it happens.
Well, after all of it i came to the point of having the absolute certainty about who i truly wanted to be with me, who i wanted to build a future with, then i immediately stopped giving me the liberty of flirting with other people, i stopped looking at it as a ''not wrong'' thing and started focusing only and exclusively on her, and started to think to myself, bruh, she is NOT your plan for the future, she is your future and also should be your biggest plan for the present.
At this point i felt the need of oficializing all the things, felt the needing of feeling my lungs and properly calling her my girlfriend. But one thing was keeping me from doing it, the things i did in the past while we were already together sharing feelings for each other and making plans.
So i think i did the hardest and scariest decision i ever did in all my life, i decided that i definitely wouldn't be asking her to be my girl, to seriously have the commitment talk, before letting her know about all that happened in this meantime. I knew that she could simply get emotionally destroyed, end up everything, end all the plans, dump me, and i knew that i would need to leave forever with the feeling of having messed up my future with the most amazing, caring, incredible, attractive, passionate girl of this entire world right in that moment, but well, i absolutely couldn't look at that damn eyes, at that fucking pretty smile of her and hide all of this from her, i wanted to tell her about all of it so she could decide what she wanted to do.
So this is what i did, i waited for her to go home after her work and i told her about it. I explained what was in my head at the moment, told about the kissing, the flirting, and etc. She obviously got very affected, sad, kinda surprised, and oh gosh it hurted so much on me too, but well, after all she said that she didn't consider those things as cheating cause she agreed that we weren't oficially commited, but that it was emotionally irresponsible, but ok, at the end she was happy for me to have told her about it, she said that she understands it, that she loves me so much, that never someone treated her so well, also said to not worry cause her trust in me hadn't changed, and well guys, we finally had the conversation we needed to have since the beggining, she accepted, she knew i regretted all those things so fucking much, she even told me ''hey, stop crying it's ok'', told me she knew i wouldn't make those things again from now on and oof, let's proceed to the main point now.
We are very close to seeing each other for the first time, making a very big step, our families actually supports us, and i am happy with all of it, but i honestly didn't managed to get over the guilt. Looks like independently of all the things i feel for her, my thoughts keeps hitting me like a fucking hammer saying ''you wouldn't do those things if you really loved her, really cared for her'' also good to remember that im a extremely anxious person, probably have rocd, and overthinking about all of this is honestly making me lose my mind, i know that our love developed with time, that i changed so much since the beggining of it, 18 to 21 seems like a short period of time but oh god, i changed perspective completely and well, sometimes i even feel unworthy of her, of her love, i can't separate my anxiety from my true feelings sometimes, and it makes me constantly doubt my feelings.
I know that she is the most important thing on my life, i know that i feel for her something magical i never felt for anyone else, but this guilt makes me feel bad, and makes me want to believe i don't love her because of those things. And i will be honest, i get to the point of crying thinking about the possibility of not loving her, i know that it VERY probably is just my anxiety consuming me, but whatever, i don't know wheter i am making a thunderstorm inside a cup of water, overthinking about it or i don't know.
I have a feeling that i left a scratch on a relationship that was supposed to be perfect. I try to convince myself that it's been absolutely perfect since the moment we oficially commited, so there's nothing to talk about ''scratches'', that it is all going perfectly, that our history begins now, but i sometimes can't.
Well guys, what do you think about it? and also, have any of you gone through something like this? This things of the past are my biggest trigger to keep checking and questioning my feelings, sometimes i feel a urge to break up just because i fear never being able to feel good about it again, sometimes it all just seems so true, sometimes so false... idk

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

My boyfriend (36) has been living with me (35) for over a month now. While in Mexico about a few weeks ago he spent the entire time on his phone. Now let me explain he was dealing with some work stuff, but he wasn’t just spending time talking to coworkers, he was on Instagram watching videos. We were in Mexico and he barely looked up from his phone. I vented to my friend who is married and has 2 kids because he is good at putting things in perspective. My friend and I have been friends for over a decade. Forward to today when he asks for my phone so he can check an app and then he storms up “so what you just shit talk me to anyone”. He went upstairs and sent me angry texts saying he’s moving out and he won’t be an issue for me anymore. He said that he knew I was cheating this whole time and I’m finally caught in a lie. I looked at my messsages and the only male I talk to is my married friend. I reminded my boyfriend that he shouldn’t have been looking at my texts, but this friend has been my long time friend not some random man I’m trying to hook up with. I understand his point that he doesn’t want me talking about him to a man, but his reaction of accusing me of cheating and then saying he’s moving out within the week seems drastic.

could it considered some form of cheating or something what I'm about to tell you because this is really how I feel. Like l've been betrayed or cheated on. my boyfriend's girl best friend was texting him saying that I am a whore and to break up with me and to leave me immediately and he kept it a secret from me for multiple months. During those months, I had told him about how I was hearing from everybody that she was really crazy over him and how she really liked him. I told him multiple times, but he brushed me off told me it wasn't true and just ignore it. I then found out from him that he knew she liked him in his past relationship and even had talked to her about it. he was texting her really weirdly during the day asking how her day was with a bunch of "!!!" And calling her weird names and he never did that to me and then told me two months after it happened, I feel like I'm going crazy.

ch0 -- [already written]. City Alpha of Ikun, Nyektak-pack is in the Bastion, the official City Alpha residence, working through the annual agenda that the Lawspeakers have passed them for Y932. Along the way, they begin discussing what kind of legacy they'll leave behind after they're dead and gone, whether everything they've built will be torn apart in a day or stand for a thousand years. The pack's alpha Nyektak Tun points out that Ikun stands in a precarious position and what they do now will have a huge impact. The economy is stagnating due to jobs being replaced by robots and automation, the environment is collapsing, leading to huge waves of refugees from the equatorial Dunelands. Further, their geopolitical enemy Koranah city-state is rapidly catching up economically and militarily, and sensing blood in the water with regards to Ikun's hegemony, is becoming increasingly aggressive with its foreign policy. Nyektak Nyak suggests that geoengineering can be used to stabilize things, with tools such as weather control satellites and ecological nanobots. However, this is regarded as a critical security threat by Tun, as Koranah is ahead of Ikun in this field, so if a global Climate Control System is created, then it is likely Koranah-based companies and Koranah technology that will tie the whole system together, leading them to have an outsized role. Such a thing is regarded as politically dangerous, as it could pose a threat to the Hegemony even without Koranah overturning Ikun's nuclear monopoly. And it won't even create many jobs in Ikun, so it won't resolve the economic concerns. Nyak points out that it's not politically viable to simply ban geoengineering without the state coming up with a better idea. After a long discussion, it is Nyektak Aykay who finally has a breakthrough idea. They will create a starship to send a military occupation force to planet TRK-16-3 (aka Earth......). Not only will this create enormous numbers of jobs in Ikun to revitalize the economy, but it will demonstrate to the rest of the world that Ikun still has an unmatched ability to project military force even at interstellar distances, and give the citizens of Ikun hope that they can seek out a better life on another planet. Indeed for this reason, it is called Project Hope.
ch1 -- [already written] Nyektak-pack makes an unexpected appearence in the Hall of Power, where Ikun's Lawspeakers convene, looking to make some deals and exert some pressure in order to get Project Hope put on the annual agenda. They have identified that a certain Lawspeaker Ronyr-pack is the most influential pack in the Lawspeakers' Association at present, and so speak to them first, the idea being that they will be able to pull the strings necessary to approve Project Hope. Although Lawspeaker Ronyr-pack are initially skeptical, they agree to assist after Nyektak-pack promises an array of political favors, including guaranteeing that Ikoin Corporation--which Ronyr-pack own significant stock in--will be the main contractor for Project Hope, and reducing the taxes they collect on healthcare workers, who are present in large numbers in Ronyr-pack's district. However, Ronyr-pack is just the first Lawspeaker that Nyektak-pack will have to deal with; in order to ensure that Project Hope actually gets onto the agenda, they also have to make a separate deal with Ronyr-pack's enemy Lawspeaker Radenkiut-pack, who have the second-largest group of allies in the Lawspeaker's Association. Nevertheless, City Alpha Nyektak-pack gets what they want--zero restrictions on raising funds for Project Hope, coupled with a ban on geoengineering tech and directives to pursue sanctions against other city-states that don't join them in doing so, thereby inhibiting the rise of a Climate Control System as an alternative to Project Hope. As Nyektak Aykay points out, these two agenda items reinforce each other; one can't be overturned without also overturning the other.
ch2 -- Icen-pack is a struggling pack of construction workers in Ikun in Y934, who always have to be on the constant lookout for their next gig, as jobs are scarce and hard to come by. They are currently working on a new skyscraper in Ikun's well-to-do District 7, including the flying buttresses that extend over the surrounding roads to interconnect with the supports of adjacent buildings, as typical with Kyanah architecture. Even now they are already even as they work leveraging advanced algorithms to predict the next opening so they can apply before anyone else. Things are made even more cutthroat by the increasingly widespread use of wearable sensors to identify the best performers, and the fact that immigrants from the Dunelands tend to be willing to work for lower wages, which drives pay down for everyone and often forces native Ikun packs to work even harder to justify their wages. As they work, Icen Korak (who, like Kei and Nuyu, grew up in the industry, as their birth-packs worked in construction) laments that things used to be simpler when he was growing up, and packs didn't have to constantly fight against each other to land building jobs, and there were more full time positions instead of the constant data-driven scramble for gigs. Icen-pack's alpha Naiun, as well as Karok, mostly take this in stride, having not grown up in the industry and thus not being as familiar with it, but the rest agree with Korak. Karok points out that it's not a huge surprise, considering how few buildings are being built in the current economy and how even a skyscraper can be built with just a couple dozen packs with current technology, but still nobody is happy with the status quo. They contemplate trying to sabotage the metrics of their coworkers, suspecting that others will do the same to them, taking advantage of the new wearable sensors that are measuring performance; however Naiun insists that they will be fine if they just work hard and be honest, and seeing as she is the pack's alpha that kind of shuts the idea down. They also contemplate having another pair of young, in addition to their current pair Raktan and Tyorek, but money is at present too tight for that. However, Project Hope is announced to the public in an address by Nyektak-pack on state TV. They are initially all a bit confused why Ikun is planning an interstellar invasion, but Kei realizes that Project Hope will serve as a huge jobs program and speculates that this will have knock-on effects across the rest of the economy, and jobs for them will once again be plentiful, putting the whole pack on a hopeful note.
ch3 -- Ryen-pack is graduating from the prestigious Nktan University (in the neighboring city-state of Nktan obviously) and becoming scholars of the first rank. While they all agree they are going to miss the university, they all look forward to going back to Ikun and what comes ahead, as they will be starting work at a prestigious influencing firm in Ikun, basically working with the government to have laws changed for their clients. Ryen Kerok, the pack's Alpha, is especially eager to change the world, believing that they will be able to do a lot of good by influencing the highest levels of Ikun's government for their future clients. Teren is mostly thinking about the high salary that will enable them to have children quickly, whereas young packs in Ikun have to save for years. As for Kaun, she occupies something of a middle ground between the two. Ryen Konyan has the most misgivings about everything, about leaving Nktan University for the "real world", about the possibility that they'll end up working for corrupt clients and doing more harm than good, and about bringing children into a dying world, especially with the onset of Project Hope, which they all agree is stupid and short-sighted, but don't think the government will actually go through with building the starships and launching the military expedition to Earth. They are also concerned about the geoengineering ban, believing that Koranah city-state and their allies will just ignore it, giving them even more control over the future Climate Control System. And so they make their way back to Ikun to begin their careers at the influencing firm Kortak-Dakayan Corporation, a bit hopeful but also a bit uncertain about the future.
ch4 -- some lawspeakers and the city alpha are being shown the initial stages of technological progress on Project Hope in Y935 at Toryak University, the most prestigious university in Ikun. An enormous supercomputer complex has been constructed, using the Kyanahs' signature mechanical computers and is being used to research interstellar propulsion methods. Although many of the scientists are a little skeptical of Project Hope, they do appreciate the huge influx of funding to pursue their research. Nyektak-pack is impressed that the complex has been constructed in only a year (technically it's still under construction, but experiments are already underway as the city-state has imposed some very tough deadlines on them), but as the lead scientist-pack points out, it wasn't so difficult when they had a blank check from the Ikun government. However, they have some bad news: they've been attempting to design an interstellar engine using nuclear pulse propulsion, but despite their best efforts to optimize the design, it will only be able to reach 4% of light speed, which as they point out means that humanity will possibly be more technologically advanced than their own military by the time Project Hope arrives. The main problem is that the casing and detonation mechanisms of the nukes are basically dead weight. It seems that there may be a way around this by using antimatter-catalyzed nuclear propulsion, where small quantities of antimatter are fed into nuclear material to force a reaction without needing a bunch of actual nukes. However, this further has the problem that it will require grams of antimatter, meaning that a huge particle accelerator in the PeV range will have to be built. But if this can be done, the engines will be able to reach the required 7.5% of light speed. Much to the scientists' shock, Nyektak-pack immediately agrees to fund this accelerator. However, in private this prompts an argument between them as they don't actually have available funds, even if they funnel money from non-Hope agenda items into the project. The realize that Ikun can't do it alone while also building the starships themselves, they need funds and technical expertise from other city-states to build it, and will need to use their influence in the Coalition of Cities to get it, possibly in exchange for dipolmatic concessions that may destabilize Ikun's already precarious Hegemony. Meanwhile, we are also introduced to Nyektor-pack, a student of the second rank working on the supercomputing project while nurturing big dreams to someday be scholar of the third rank, at which point they aspire to start a research group to solve the many technical problems that must be solved for Project Hope to be successful.
ch5 -- A certain Ryen-pack--none other than Ryen Kerok's birth-pack--are working at one of Ikun's top universities, where their life's work has revolved around developing ecological nanobots that can break down pollutants in the soil. However, with enforcement of Y934 Agenda Item 579 beginning (banning technology associated with the Climate Control System), their entire life's work has now been forbidden by the government. Even many of their own students have bought into the official propaganda that this technology is dangerous and unreliable, and must be banned, much to their anger and disgust. They have continued working right up until the day the ban comes into effect, but a pack of university administrators orders them to destroy their research as the police will soon be arriving to shut the department down. Many harsh words are exchanged between Ryen-pack and the administrators, but ultimately there's nothing they can do except wipe their computers and destroy their prototypes before the police show up. After this, they reach out to their son Kerok's pack, which causes Kerok to wonder what is going on in their lives and if they want to be ikoin (kyanah term for friends/allies, but more explicitly transactional) but the elder Ryen-pack is retiring and leaving Ikun for the northern scrublands. Kerok urges them to stay and use their brilliant minds to do some good in Ikun, including the younger Ryen-pack's future children (even telling them that they will name one of their young after the elder Ryen-pack's alpha, Ayen), but the elder pack has made up their mind, they're done trying to pursue science while the government keeps interfering with their work, but tell the younger pack that the young are the future of Ikun, and if they want to save the planet, they must optimize their young for the cause, a message which seems to resonate most with Kerok and less with some of the others, especially Konyan.
ch6 -- Aktektan-pack is a large pack with many young who works long and arduous hours at an Ikoin Corporation factory assembling bombs and missiles for meager pay. After another mind numbing and monotonous day of working and getting into petty fights with coworkers during Y936, they head home to their tiny rundown apartment and engage in their typical pasttime of watching TV, especially Ikun's state TV, which triumphantly reports that Project Hope is already proving to be a massive boon to the economy. The fact that they've receieved a small bonus this year further convinces them that this is unquestionably true. They immediately proceed to spend their bonus on alcohol and pro-government merch. After Nedak realizes that their rent has increased as well by the same amount as their bonus, he angrily accuses their alpha Nyaken of mismanaging their money, to which Nyaken accuses the other females in the pack--Karien and Tanun--of laying too many eggs and creating too many mouths to feed, though their seems to be an undercurrent of jealousy in her rants, which leads to a physical fight between the members of Aktektan-pack. Later, Karien reveals that she's actually laid another egg--actually only one, which is seen as a sign of bad luck, as Kyanah lay eggs in pairs. These arguments ultimately peter out as the pack ends up falling asleep whilst watching a rather jingoistic movie.
ch7 -- Ptorya-pack lives in Adronkin, a city-state in the scorching hot Dunelands that is poorer, less developed, and much smaller than Ikun, where they're assistant administrators at a local textile factory. An unseasonally strong and dangerous sandstorm strikes, causing considerable damage to the factory and disrupting operations. Some workers, including Ptorya Llrien speculates that city-state officials including the City Alpha have been embezzling money intended for fortifying local buildings against sandstorms and spending it on luxury cars and mansions instead, but Ptorya-pack's alpha Rytor advises everyone not to ask too many questions about it and just focus on repairing the factory so they can all get back to work. At their home, which is quite small and spartan; despite them being white collar workers in the top 10% of earners in Adronkin, it would be a poor pack's apartment in Ikun; they notice clouds of irritating industrial smog containing lots of coal dust wafting in from the south and find several dead thukukenoids (creatures which float through the air like balloons, filter feeding on airborne spores and vegetation) lying around their neighborhood; Nekyez notes that they seem to have been dying off in droves as of late, though Rytor dismisses this as probably nothing and tells Nekyez not to worry their pack's young children. As they eat their day-meal, the subject of Project Hope comes up; they seem to be a bit bemused about Ikun's plans to launch an interstellar conquest (as Ntreyn points out, "the blue people always have crazy ideas") but they are hopeful about reports that Ikun is reviving its economy and will continue to remain a hyperpower, as they see Ikun and its military as bringers of peace and order, especially as they provided aid and peacekeeping some years ago when Adronkin was struck by a wave of deadly sandstorms. Llrien offhandedly mentions that she sometimes wishes that they were in Ikun and Rytor says that it would take a long time and be very difficult to get in, but concedes that it would probably be better for their young to grow up there.

Advice on me 26F telling 27M partner how I feel?
Hi. First of all please don’t judge me for what I’m about to ask, I know the obvious is to be straightforward but I was not allowed to speak my mind when I was younger so I spend a lot of time thinking about the consequences.
I 26F have been exclusive with my partner 27M for almost two years. We definitely have had our ebbs and flows in terms of communications, but recently he is across the country for some work for >1 month and the communication is just different. He has shared his feelings about feeling depressed and apologized for shutting down when he gets that way, but I don’t think that excuses that I just don’t feel he gives me the same attention at all. Like I’ve been asking to call whenever he is free to quite literally talk about this issue (I hate doing these things over text), but he hasn’t prioritized it at all. I feel broken. I wanna tell him that I value someone who will check in on me and make sure they are in active communication with me otherwise i don’t know if we are good fit. I’m just not sure how to proceed.
I tend to approach everything gently it’s just my nature and i don’t think this is something I want to be angry about, but more so intentional. This is what I value. I notice ur not giving it. Basically I need help scripting what I wanna say

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

Throughout my journey of manifesting I have had many moments of uncertainty, not knowing how to overcome limited beliefs, what technique was best for me, whether or not I was on the right track, what direction to go to.
Many that have succeeded took the same road, go within for all. But even they can’t exactly share with me how to work through my stuff or what is most ideal for me. I’ve found only I know in the core of my being.
One of my favorite quotes is by the founder of Apple, Steve Jobs. The quote is, “have the courage to follow your heart and intuition for they already know who you desire to be. Everything else is secondary.
You may have noticed this but, when you are over thinking, or wide awake and want to go to sleep, or feeling fearful and your inwardly saying your courageous you start responding in a manner in harmony with your inner suggestion. This is why Neville says to affirm I am sleepy I am so very sleepy before SATS. Your body and everything responds to what you affirm to yourself.
Taking this principle I started using this when I wasn’t sure if I was going in the right direction. When I was manifesting my wife back and wasn’t seeing movement. I knew there was resistance or limited beliefs blocking me but couldn’t figure out how to release them.
When I had these challenges I started saying to myself. Help me find the answer to this problem. Am I doing this right. Guide me on how to overcome this challenge. How do I manifest, x,y,z.
The crazy thing I realized very quickly is I would get answers, inspiration or ideas from the “still small voice” it has directed me in times of trouble, emotional or mental turmoil or uncertainty. And the thing I’ve found is it’s always been right. I’ve also found most of the time it gives me answers in contrast of my logical mind.
I have found the best way to get in contact with it is to sit in meditation when there is very little thought: you are just aware of being. This is the prime time to ask or get direction for whatever you need. It has helped me drastically to overcome me, heal pains from the past and give me direction.
Much love as always guys!

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

My brother (19M) and I (21F) grew up in a single parent household, with our mother. Our father was in and out for personal selfish reasons and my brother grew to be the “man of the house.” Over the years he was the black sheep in a way. He was never academically on track but was always good with his hands, while I was the academically “gifted” child and a people’s pleaser. After my freshman year of college, I went through some stuff after being hours away from home. It changed me in a good way. I’ve started undoing the toxic habits I picked up from my mother and environment but it seems to bother my brother and mom. They have been saying for the last year that I’ve “changed,” and I’m no longer an “it girl.” They blame it on my relationship when it’s really just depression. I’ve been doing a good job as to changing and getting out of my depressive state but all they do is harp on how I’m changing. My change is for the good and not the bad which makes this more frustrating.
My brother seems to always pick fights with me more and more and if my mom is saying something to me, he jumps in it and says, “you always deflect,” or something to the degree of egging on what she’s saying. I simply call them out for doing the same thing I’m doing but it makes me the one “deflecting.” I recently had car trouble and I called my boyfriend to help and told my brother just to let him know that I was safe. Instead of asking if I was okay, he started calling me dumb and all other names and loud enough for my mother to hear so he could slyly let her know what’s happening. He then said, “you should have called me first.” It’s obvious that he’s now bonding with my mother over my life choices. They have conversations about my personal life and everything. They’ve even talked about how me having locs “isn’t me,” when I’ve explained I’m trying to be comfortable in my natural hair. I’ve been trying to exert boundaries and it’s just making them more angry and annoyed with me. Instead of being able to talk to my brother and have fun with him, I’ve started to dislike him and avoid talking to him or hanging with him. It doesn’t help that we still live together as I am still a college student but I have started looking for places to move into on my own. I can’t continue to be around them anymore. It is now apparent that my brother and mother have built a parent/child enmeshment and it feels as if he’s trying to be my parent rather than my younger brother.

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

How do you get help? how do you get surgery? how do you get MRI, CT scan? How do you get pain meds? How do you get medical assistance in dying (asking for a friend) I'm from canada.
I've been on tramadol gabapentin and flexeril for awhile now. They were helping a bit before I built up a tolerance, and then they helped minimally. So I tried quitting the tramadol because I didn't like the idea of taking something that barely helps, when it has so many side effects and potentially lifelong consequences. I havent been able to stop the 2 pills a day. I just feel it helps a bit with my mood, which is plummeting. My doctor told me he will increase my gabapentin (by 4 pills a day) and thats all he could do. He said he wasnt going to refill my tramadol because "I don't think it's helping you," but it actually helps more than the gabapentin does. The gabapentin makes me so tired and stupid, I kinda hate it. But even with these meds the pain is debilitating. Today my landlady did an inspection and my house was ok except the walls had scribbles and stuff on them and she said "It's not normal to let your kids scribble on the walls" I didn't say anything to her. But it really, really hurts to wash the walls, to bend over, to wrestle with my two kids 24/7 to prevent them from stuff like that all the time. My walls are neglected because it fucking hurts so badly to lift my arms, anything that causes my neck to tense up. I do walk a lot, but that doesn't require bending, twisting, turning or getting up fast. I'm pretty skinny too, so it isn't a weight thing.I think people see me being skinny and having strong legs and being 25 and they think it can't be that bad. It fucking is. Most days I can barely get out of bed. And it doesn't matter who I beg. I've tried going to the ER, they are monsters. My doctor is so hard to get an appt with, my next appt is the 19th of june and that was the soonest and no one cares that I'm suffering, my life is being stolen, my life is too painful to live and there's no help. Every single night there's only a cold dead silence and the realization that I will probably be in pain the rest of my life and that it will only get worse. I'll watch all my passions slowly slip away as I'm crushed beneath the weight of piling responsibilities and failures because I didn't have the energy to live in this much pain. I'm not even a good mother most of the time because I'm doing it all alone. I get scared sometimes when the pain gets really bad because it feels like I'm not even there. It feels like I might pass out or dissociate and if something happens to me my kids have no one. I can't live like this for another month, I don't want to. Every day is like torture and yes I've gone to the ER, as I've said they are all monsters. They watch me moaning in pain and barely able to look ahead of me (during a flare-up) and they don't care. I've been waiting months for a CT scan, had emergency dental surgeries, had evaluations at pain clinic. They said they suspect TN or DDD in my neck or my nerves being pushed on because of my neck and jaw injuries. Recnelty it has all gotten much worse and I may have been exposed to HIV I don't know why it would suddenly get worse, but it has always steadily gotten worse. If you feel my neck it clicks constantly and has all these awful lumps that click and send shooting pain down my arms. But the key takeaway is, none of the doctors listen. They don't hear me. He acts as if what I said, I didn't say. "The gabapentin isn't working, the tramadol helps for about an hour then I'm just waiting to take the next dose as the pain returns full force after this 2-3 hours has elapsed. Ketoralac seems to work much better than anything."
"I can give you ketoralac, but I won't because it's too expensive." But... I don't fucking care doctor I'd pay my whole cheque just to get the fuck out of this pain don't you see I'm desperate? No, no, no, no. This world is full of psychopaths and the sooner I leave it the better.

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

My (27) Male boyfriend and I (25) female have been together for almost four years, our relationship has not been the most perfect one and kindly admit I have let pretty bad things slide, including **cheating** **lying** and **manipulation**. All of this time I have separated from him twice.... last time we went back to the relationship after being almost six months apart, because after all his slip ups I decided to come back, I went on a week trip to Costa Rica and he decided to dig in to a USB drive I had left in my apartment, finding pictures of me with two of my ex boyfriends who were highly abusive to me. To be fairly honest, I have not used the drive for a long time, sometimes I upload pictures in that same drive and never see the ones from my ex's, however he got so triggered about seeing me with other men, that we broke up. It seems that he has this sense of being the victim and in my eyes, he is being unfair. After everything I have forgiven him, when it's his turn to see something not exactly pleasant, he OVERLY victimizes himself and makes a HUGE drama. Like if I had to beg him to forgive me. I don't consider him a bad person, but he has pretty bad trauma from past relationships and the main source is in his home, his mother has NOT been a good mother at all..... he is the middle child and always seems to get ignored, mistreated and abused by her.
For the past six months, we've been pretty good, he has slowly but surely worked on his trauma, past self and toxic habits. However, he has a tendency to become angry and other times I have seen him talking very badly about people in general, two months ago he went through a very harsh depression. That led us to almost separate Again. He gets pretty toxic, self destructive and tends to be really pitiful with himself. Over time, I have decided to stop making myself the hero of the relationship and let things be, I was there for him but was not going to interfere in the process. Since, after all, in my mind I think he is looking for a mother figure and I am not that.
Yesterday, I needed to do a one long day trip to my main city, he decided to join me but I warned him that I would be staying with my family, (which he usually gets pretty uncomfortable in, doesn't like family environment) and he agreed. My car's temperature got up and needed to make a quick stop at a gas station to make sure everything was ok. Going back to the road, I started analyzing why I had forgotten to add cooler to my car's engine, which seem like a very simple task, I was wondering why sometimes I tend to forget very easy but key tasks and was feeling kind off down with myself.
Instead of helping me feel better, giving me some words of encouragement or at least listening to me, he started describing to me other scenarios in which I have failed myself precisely by forgetting simple but key tasks. Excusing himself saying that he was giving me ''useful data for me to know how to improve''. I got a little pissed off, since It seemed like he wanted to turn a moment of frustration with myself into a problem of HIS and make me feel worse. I sometimes battle with certain tendencies I have, like PTSD, ADHD and lying patterns, I used to lie to pretend things were not wrong, etc. And I, myself, was honest to him about it around three months ago, letting him know, that I felt really bad with myself because of it. In the car, while on the road, additionally from telling me other scenarios where I had forgotten things, he also took the chance to let me know that It was my last chance before I got '' another little lie'' out, telling me how insecure I make him feel and that I have a big problem. I understood his side, I heard him and let him know multiple times that I am trying my best and that it is in my intentions to continue my therapy to avoid any future conflict or harm to myself or others, but in those interactions all I got was him not listening at all, being conflictive, telling me to stop the conversation because we are going nowhere and cold reactions.
I decided to keep quiet and not make a big deal about it, but something in me is really turned down.... during the visit with my family I did what I had to do and PAID for everything, dinner, breakfast, gas, emergency supplies etc. but I didn't even want to touch him, I feel drowned and had the urge to get away from him. He acted like a cold stone during the entire visit, making it harder for me, instead of being a nice trip. All I can think about right now, is that I can no longer idealize him in my mind, he's bad with me, uses things like this as an excuse for his poor behavior in the past, rubs in my face the changes he's faced to become a better person when angry and acts like a whole pure narcissist. I am NOT a bad person, I know my mistakes and consider this IS NOT FAIR. And I am not going to play this game again. I feel like I'm really done. When we got home, I said absolutely nothing, left him in his apartment and haven't talked to him at all.
AITA for not validating his drama, going after him and talking more sense into him?

The Terran Union Heavy Cruiser, Roanoke, had spent the last 6 months raiding Naalx supply lines in the Flores sector.
They were finally returning to Terran Space for some much-needed refit and some R&R. But first, they were stopping at the Bateri space station orbiting Emsar IV.
She would be meeting a Terran Union squadron to escort her prizes back to the Couster system. 4 freighters, a massive ore hauler, and a damaged Naalx corvette that answered a distress call sooner than expected.
The Roanoke was one of the new Grenville class heavy cruisers, faster and more heavily armed than the other heavy cruiser classes operating as part of a Terran Union fleet.
They were designed as solo raiders able to operate deep in enemy space, raiding enemy supply lines and facilities.
Their design included several newly developed systems, including a new style of radiator for dumping excess heat.
At 500 m long and painted black as night, she was very intimidating to see on visual screens and even more so at close range. Her CrCoNi (chromium, cobalt, and nickel) hull was covered in 12” of ablative armor covered in a black laser-resistant material able to reduce the effectiveness of enemy sensors and target locks.
The experimental Baxter radiators efficiently released excess heat into space but still left them exposed to radiation detection sensors.
Captain Josef Král had been hand-picked to command the Roanoke when she came into service 18 months ago. He was a popular officer with 20 years of combat experience on just about every ship in the Terran Union’s navy.

He’d also provided technical assistance during its design phase so his familiarity with the ship made him the best choice for putting the ship through her paces. This would be the very first voyage behind enemy lines as a raider.
And it’d been a rousing success, hitting targets deep in Naalx space as reprisal for Naalxian raids on Terran border colonies. The First Naalx-Terran war had devastated both species and left them vulnerable to outside forces. The war wasn’t won so much as winding down to a series of raids and counter-raiding. A gentleman’s agreement to prevent raids and border skirmishes from turning into another full-scale war and the earlier consequences.
And Captain Král was very good at approaching that line in the sand without going over it. Several centuries earlier he’d have been a Privateer sailing the oceans on Earth.
This even led to the revival of the old pirate movies of the 20th century but Captain Král preferred likening it to the submarine warfare of the first half of the 20th century. That didn’t stop his crew from giving him a robot parrot.
He claims to hate it but everyone knows he’s been teaching it his extensive vocabulary of curse words, in dozens of languages, that he loved it.
And if you call him out on him walking around with it on his shoulder, he’ll claim he was just humoring the crew.
Captain Král was relieved to see the Terran squadron had arrived before him and ordered his little fleet to dock. It would be good to be able to get off the ship and move around without weapons.
As Captain Král exited the ship, he was surprised to see Commodore Allen waiting for him. It’d been several years since he last saw his friend and previous XO. Taking his prerogative as a Captain, he skipped the formalities, shook hands, and gave Commodore Allen a friendly slap on the back.
“Mike? What the hell are you doing here? This is escort job is for a Lt. to do” He asked
“I was in the neighborhood and volunteered. I wanted to see this new ship of yours and it’s been too long since we got a drink together.” Mike replied
Captain Král took a glance back to his ship and wasn’t surprised to see his current XO, Lt. Commander Nana Ricci had the resupply well in hand.
With a big grin, Captain Král said, “Let me see to my guests and we can see if we can scandalize the ratings like we used to.”
Captain Král approached the waiting station manager. The Bateri bowed in the formal greeting of her people. Not having the tentacles needed to return the bow, he just saluted her.
“Greetings Captain Král of the Terrans, how may we be of service?” The Bateri asked.
“Greetings Ananu of the Bateri. We request the use of your services,” he replied, finishing the ritual greeting.
“I see you returned successful in your raiding,” Ananu said, “How many bunks will you need?”
Unsurprised that the Bateri knew his mission, he replied “ 72 bunks with 3 more for your med bay, if you have the room.”
One of the most important functions provided by the Bateri was allowing for the return of captives taken in raids. This helped to keep things calmer by freely releasing captives to limit the amount of bad blood created during the raids and conflicts.
Crates of supplies, ammo, missiles, and the various other things needed to keep the ship functioning were being transferred from the smaller Terran ships. With her weapon complement being only slightly smaller than a battleship, she could go through a lot of ammunition. Even without being in serious combat, he liked to run frequent gunnery drills. Some Captains would just let their tactical computers handle operating the weapon systems and just have the gunnery crews handle reloads. But some hard lessons taught him that having the gunnery crews able to take direct control, as needed, was essential. He preferred to use up as much ammunition as needed during training to save lives later in combat.
Seeing everything in hand, he walked back to join his friend for a drink. They caught up on the doings of old friends and Mike’s family, toasts to fallen comrades, and eventually to the Roanoke.
‘How did she operate on her first long-range mission?” Mike asked
Taking a moment to organize his thoughts, Captain Král took a sip of his drink. “She handled better than expected. The new engine behaved itself, surprising for being just off the drawing board, the Baxters were damn efficient.”
Taking another sip before continuing, “ We didn’t use the torpedoes or the turreted railguns in combat but the rest performed as expected. That Corvette didn’t stand a chance so we didn’t get a full test of all the combat systems.”
“Going by the number of munitions I brought with me, you’d think I was resupplying a battleship” Mike joked
“Just about,” Captain Král chuckled. “During the design phase, I had to argue for such an increase of armament.” “It seemed to take forever for them to get it through their thick skulls that we’d be out there all alone and couldn’t call for reinforcements.” “So I convinced them to put the 2 particle beam systems in the bow of the ship and give me the 4 torpedo tubes. They had no problem with the pair at the bow but they couldn’t figure out why I wanted a pair aft. I swear I thought about launching them out of a tube.”

“At least they were starting to get it when I up-gunned the turrets to carry two large railguns. They did get upset at wanting to put on a turret in the middle of the ventral side but were relieved I left the other turret on the dorsal side ahead of the command structures”
Commodore Allen asked,” From the glimpse I got as you docked, it looked like you doubled the usual weapon systems?”
“She still has them 10 secondary batteries but I went with dual medium railguns for them” Captain Král replied, “ I put 4 of the quad-mounted autocannons on each side of the ship.”
“ It should let us save wear and tear on the railguns when we catch unarmed ships or against incoming fighters.”
“ I understand and it also saves on missiles, which with 4 heavy and 8 medium is a lot of missiles to carry.” Commodore Allen replied.
“I’ve also heard you were running tests on a more powerful deflector array to do more than just protect against radiation and small debris. Like maybe actual shields that would work on anything smaller than a battleship?”
“Yeah but not with any success,” Captain Král answered, “Anytime we tried to go past the standard low-power output, it played hell with our sensors.”
It was at that moment when Captain Král’s wrist communicator beeped for his attention.
“Just a second Mike,” he said as he keyed the communicator. “ Král, go ahead”
The sound of Lt. Commander Ricci’s voice came through the speaker, “ Priority message from the bridge Captain.”
“ What is the message?” Captain Král asked, not liking the way Ricci’s voice sounded worried
“ Sensor buoy reports large Naalx fleet dropping out of FTL, 2 million km out,” Ricci reported
Commodore Allen gave Captain Král the same concerned look that he was sure was on his face. “How many?” The captain asked
Ricci hesitated for a moment before answering “37 ships with more arriving every couple of minutes.”
Commodore Allen swore
Captain Král looked at his friend, “How long until you get your crews and get out of here?”
Commodore Allen thought for a moment, “ Maybe 20 minutes at the minimum.”
Captain Král muttered to himself, “They’ll be here before that.”
Both men got up, signaled to any of their personnel in the bar, and started out the door. “I’ll buy you the time but I’ll need to undock as soon as I get aboard my ship, maybe I can catch them off-guard. “ Captain Král
Commodore Allen replied, “That’s a suicide mission, there are too many for one ship to handle”
“Yeah, I know, old friend but if I don’t then we all die.” Captain Král explained, “ Do me a favor, I’m going to send you my non-essential personnel, take them and those still on the station with you. Get them home.”
Reaching the hatch to the docking bay, both men stopped to shake hands. “Of course, Josef.” Commodore Allen replied, “But if anyone can find a way out of it, it’s you, my friend.”
After a final salute, both men parted ways to reach their ship. As Captain Král jogged down the docking bay, he sent orders for Ricci to send all non-essential personnel to Commodore Allen and asked if they had sufficient hands to man all combat stations.
Ricci’s reply reassured him, “ Aye Sir, most of the crew on the station are from the 2nd watch, and the few people from the first watch are non-essential.”
“Be ready to launch as soon as I get aboard.” He ordered.
He passed several members of his crew, en route to join Commodore Allen. He stopped to return their salute. At the disappointed look in their eyes, he told them. “I know you don’t want to leave the ship but the Commodore needs some real sailors to get out on time. You know how those logistic guys are. They’ll get lost trying to find their own bridge”
That look reassured them and after a final salute, they headed down the dock to join Commodore Allen
Captain Král reached the cargo ramp and started up it, calling Ricci and telling her to shove off and he’d be on the bridge shortly.
He sprinted down the corridor, leaping over the lower lips of the vacuum-tight doors.
“Captain on the Bridge!” rang out from one of the bridge techs. Aside from the guards and his XO, the rest of the bridge crew kept working. Nodding his approval at their knowing when to discard ceremony for action. He walked over toward his console before speaking.
“What do we have, Lt. Commander?”
Turning to face him, Captain Král could see just how worried she was. “Current count is 48 ships.” Touching the console’s keys to bring up a list of ships before continuing, “ 18 capital ships and a mix of sub-caps, still trying to ID them.”
“They’re just maintaining position for now.” Ricci finished, her voice slightly puzzled.
“They’re waiting for something or someone,” Captain Král answered the unasked question.
“How many crew did we leave behind?”
“641, Sir” the XO replied
“ Helm, are we clear of the station's shielding?”
“Almost Sir,” The helmsman answered.
“Thank you.” Captain Král returned.
Turning to another tech, he said, “Sound Battlestations”

“Sir,” one of his sensor techs spoke up, “We have 2 more ships arriving.”
“ Thank you, Ensign.” Captain Král returned
“What class are they?” Lt Commander Ricci asked
After looking at her monitor again the tech replied, “1 heavy cruiser and something much bigger, waiting for the computer to ID it.”
Captain Král moved to look over the tech’s shoulder before standing up and facing his XO.
“Fleet Command Ship” he informed the tech and his XO.
Lt. Commander Ricci replied, “What the hell is one doing out here?”
“Good Question.” he answered, “And now that the players are on the field, the game can begin.”
Bringing up the sensor information to his console, Captain Král pointed at the enemy fleet. “They haven’t begun to deploy into battle formation yet.”
“That could be our chance.” Raising his head to look at his XO. “If we jump now we can land close and surprise them. After we land, we drive into the center of their formation and head for that big bastard.” He explained
“But Sir, We haven’t fully tested the jump drive!” the XO exclaimed
“No time like the present, “ Captain Král joked

“We’ll let the railguns and autocannon crews pick targets of opportunity, while we engage the command ship with our particle cannons, heavy railguns, and torpedoes,” he stated
“What about its point defense system, won’t it pick off the torps?” the XO asked
“We’re going to launch all the Hammerheads at it. It should overwhelm the system and let the torps through.” He answered before continuing, “I’m going to save the heavy missiles for now.”
“You’ll need to calculate the launch time of the Hammerheads to hit the point defense system as close to the time for the torpedoes to sneak through.” he ordered, “ But not so far they take out the Hammerheads too soon and let them hit the torps but not so close they set them off either.”
Looking at his XO, “You better get down to tactical Nana, this is going to get ugly, and it’s best we split up.” Captain Král commanded
Exchanging salutes, Ricci simply replied “Aye Sir.” and started for the hatch. Just before stepping through, she turned and said, “Good Luck, Sir.
“What’s the status of the Commodore’s squad?” Captain Král asked
One of his communication techs spoke up, “ They need 10 more minutes”
“Let me know the minute they are clear.” Captain Král ordered
Captain Král turned to comms tech and ordered, “Intraship comms if you please ensign”
“Aye sir” the tech replied before turning to his console and speaking into the mic,” Now hear this, Now hear this. Message from the Captain.”
“ Well folks, this isn’t the fight I wanted but this is the fight we got” Captain Král started
“ I’m sure you’ve heard scuttlebutt about the situation but here it is. We are facing a superior force numbering 49 ships. And we need to give the Commodore’s squadron time to go to FTL and get the hell out of here.” he paused before continuing, “ The plan is to mix it up with the enemy at close range. They aren’t in battle formation yet so we can hurt them.”
“Good luck and let’s make them regret fucking with the Roanoke.”
The sounds of cheers came back over the speakers.
“Helm, are we clear of the station shielding?” the Captain asked
At the affirmative given by the helmsmen, he just nodded
Touching a button on his console, he asked, “Are you in place XO?”
“Aye Sir.” the Lt. Commander replied
“ As soon as we land, be ready to open up with the dual and quad mounts.” He ordered
The XO replied with an affirmative.
“Helm, at my command, jump between 25-50 km to the starboard of the fleet.”
“As soon as we land, hard to port and get us in the middle of them. Be ready for rapid maneuvers, maybe we can throw off their laser battery tracking systems. Might let us survive a little longer” Captain Král ordered. “Aye Sir” the helmsman replied
Taking a quick look around to make sure his crew was ready, he turned back to wait for the signal the jump drive was ready.
At the signal, he ordered “Jump”
He felt the ship lurch forward and shudder. It took less than 5 seconds to jump from the station to within the targeted range, but it felt like forever.
And then they were less than 5 km from an enemy battleship.
“Oh shit!” exclaimed the helmsman and steered to avoid it. Captain Král hid a moment of panic with a joke, “ Someone make note that the jump drive targeting system needs work.”
His joke brought a chuckle from his crew and got them back to focus on the taste.
Stabbing a button on his console, he ordered “XO, fire secondary batteries,”
There was nothing to see or hear from the massive volleys of the secondary batteries coming to life. But he knew the gun crews were already raining devastation on enemy warships. “Helm, Hard to Port!” he ordered, not tearing his view away from the main viewscreen.
Captain Král looked at his console at the images sent to the bridge from the various gun cameras.
He could see the flashes of light from projectiles hitting their shields. He watched as other high-velocity projectiles punched through their hulls. He could just make out the impact of the explosive-tipped slugs fired by the autocannons.
Captain Král turned back to the main viewscreen. “Hard to starboard!”
“Head for that big son of a bitch!” he ordered
The Naalx were slow to respond but they began to return fire with some trying to gain some distance to clear the line of fire of other ships. The helmsman’s evasive maneuvers were also giving the enemy’s gunners fits from repeated misses.
But the damage sensors on the armor told of an increasing number of hits as the Naalx began to respond in an organized manner. The resistance coating reduced the damage from the Naalx laser batteries but didn’t completely nullify it. “Helm, get me a clear shot at the command ship.” the Captain ordered
A bright flash to starboard marked the death of an enemy cruiser. Status reports listed 2 sub-capitals holed and venting atmosphere. Dead or damaged, they were out of the fight.
One capital ship was dead in space with another missing its bow.
5 down too damn many to go The captain muttered
He watched and waited, ignoring damage alarms and the occasional shudder as shots began to get through the armor and explosively decompress a compartment when they penetrated the hull.
He finally saw what he wanted, an unobstructed line of fire to the command ship.
His finger smashed down on the console button. “ XO, Launch Torpedoes. Take the gloves off the main batteries. Drop the hammer!”
He watched the glitter of the particle beams as they bridged the gap between the Roanoke and the Naalx ship. In a moment, he caught sight of the torpedoes' thrusters as they left the tubes and picked up momentum. Holes and brief explosions marked the impact of his weapons. But the sheer volume of Naalxian fire was beginning to take its toll. The armor was failing or had failed in over a dozen spots. 3 autocannon and 1 railgun mount were out of commission.
2 minutes after they launched the torpedoes, the sight of more than 100 Hammerhead missiles was marked by the flare of their drives. Another volley of Hammerheads was launched the moment new missiles were lifted into the racks.
Captain Král called down to tactical, “XO, hold off on another volley for hammerheads.”
Checking his console, “Launch Shrikes at targets of opportunity with no shields, rear tubes target enemy capital ships and hope those torpedoes get through.” he ordered.
Multiple small explosions let him know the point defense systems were taking on the Hammerheads. And a moment later, a pair of massive explosions told him the nuclear-tipped torpedoes had hit their target.
“Captain, The Commodore’s squadron has escaped.” one of his techs announced.
“Thank you,” he answered
“Distance to command ship?” he asked
“ 250 km Sir” was the reply
“Helm, continue advancing on the command ship and pass her on our port side. We’ll give her a broadside and go to FTL after we clear.”
A tech from the damage control position spoke up, “Captain! FTL is down and jump drive is destroyed”
“Ahh hell’ cried the Captain.
“Damage report!” he ordered
“ Ventral turret destroyed, railgun mounts 2 and 5 destroyed, mount 9 damaged but functional. Autocannon mounts 11,13, 23 and 25 destroyed. Hammerhead launchers 3 and 8 destroyed.” The tech checked the screen before continuing, “ Explosive decompressions on decks 3 and 5. Explosive decompression in Med Bay. Ablative armor badly damaged and penetrated in around 20 spots. Engine #3 is down. Power unstable in many areas of the ship”
“FTL down, engineering needs an hour to fix. The jump drive is destroyed. Long-range comms are down” The tech finished.
“Casualty reports!” Captain Král ordered
A different tech replied, “249 dead, roughly 800 wounded with 327 too injured to fight.”
“Thank you.” he returned. Doing the math in his head he had just over 1300 combat effective and 482 of those were his Marines, the other 18 were left behind.
After thinking a moment, “Helm, same course as before but since we can’t go to FTL, circle to the aft of the command ship and lessen the incoming fire for the moment”
Looking over to the comms tech, “ Get me the chief engineer on the horn.”
Tapping the switch on the console, he called down to tactical. “ XO, I’m taking us around to the aft of the command ship and play peek-a-boo.”
“We’ll pass on her port side and I want a broadside from all batteries that can hit it and launch half the Shrikes we have left at it.”
“After we get to their rear, target enemy aft batteries, I want them all hunks of twisted metal.” Captain Král ordered
“Aye Sir.” Lt. Commander Ricci replied. “Ammo count update Sir.”
“Go ahead,” he replied
“Only the two forward tubes are loaded, aft tubes empty, railgun and autocannon are down to 30%. Dorsal turret is at 10% but they are working on transferring surviving ammo from the Ventral turret.
We can launch 4 more full racks of Shrikes and 5+ Hammerheads.” She finished
“Understood. Thank you” Captain Král replied
“Captain, Chief Engineer on the line” a tech relayed
“Route it to my console,” he ordered
“ I need you to place charges on the computer core, all the experimental equipment, engines, and fire suppression control. If we go down, I don’t want them getting a damn thing but blood and pain.”
“Aye Sir.” The Chief replied.

Captain Král turned back to watch as the Roanoke passed the command ship to port. He watched as massive explosions rippled across the enemy flank and dorsal surface. They were too close for the point defense to pick off the majority of the Shrikes.
As the Roanoke got behind and slightly below the enemy command ship, she slowed and allowed her surviving batteries to silence the command ship's aft batteries.
Captain Král called down to tactical, “XO, fire half our remaining hammerheads into her engines.”
“Affirmative,” replied the XO
Captain Král watched as the hammerheads impacted the command ship’s engines and saw the thrust nozzles dim as the engines went offline. The enemy batteries stopped firing and she began to drift.
“Helm, get us 500 km from the command ship and line up to fire our last 2 avalanche torpedoes.” Captain Král ordered
“Aye Sir, 500km bow towards the enemy” the helmsman repeated
The Captain called down to tactical ” Nana, We’re positioning the ship to line up the front tubes and we’re going to kill that bastard. Stay on the line and fire on my order.”
“Aye Sir, we’re ready.” The XO answered
“Helm?” Captain Král asked
“ 3 seconds Captain.” the helmsman replied
Captain Král watched and as soon as he got the angle he wanted, “Fire Torpedoes!” he commanded
The whole bridge crew watched and waited for the impact. Both torpedoes struck amidships and tore massive holes in the hull. As they watched, lines of explosions traveled across the hull and began to rip the ship in half. The bridge crew let out a yell and the rest of the ship after the Captain had the information broadcast over the intercom.

“ Helm, get us the hell out of here. Maybe we can outrun the bigger ships and buy time to fix the FTL.” Captain Král ordered
But before the helmsman could act, there was a massive jolt.
“What the hell?” he yelled
A tech answered, “ We were rammed by a Naalx cruiser and several smaller ships are closing in.“
But instead of ramming the Roanoke, they launched breeching pods.
His finger stabbed down to open the intercom. “ All hands, Prepare to Repel Boarders! Security teams, tactical will relay their access position. “ He ordered
He pulled out his sidearm and checked that it was ready. Several other techs did the same, while his security detachment moved to defensive positions to watch the hatch.
“Target those pods!” Captain Král ordered but he didn’t need to say it, his gunnery crews were on it. Here and there a brief flash of light marked the destruction of a pod.

“XO, fire all remaining missiles. Pick your targets,” he commanded “All batteries, open fire.”
He left the tac net open to track the status of the enemy boarding parties.
He listened to the cacophony of noises coming over the tac net.
“Security team alpha to section 7, level 3. Bravo team section 2 level 1, Charlie team section 12, level 5” Lt. Commander Ricci ordered.
“There’s too many, fall back to position 2…” an unidentified voice ordered
Another voice firmly stated, “Hold your ground, nothing gets past us.”
“Theta team down, a handful of Naalx heading for engineering!” a panicked voice exclaimed
And dozens of others just like it, always with the sound of combat in the background.
“Captain, more breaching pods en route!” a tech exclaimed
“Get me the Chief Engineer!” the Captain ordered
At the Chief Engineer’s response, he ordered “Detonate all sabotage charges except the main computer. Set that one on a manual trigger at my console with a 20-minute timer as a backup. And then set the reactors to overload, we’re not going to hold the ship much longer. And set a charge to breach the hull and decompress Engineering as soon as you are clear”
“Affirmative, Captain. She was a good ship” the Chief replied
Turning to his bridge crew, “Give the order to abandon ship. Have all the pods head for the station.”
The Captain called tactical, “Lt. Commander Ricci, all hands abandon ship. Get as many of them home as you can.”
“ I understand, Sir.” She answered, “I’ll see you at the station.” she said hopefully
“I'm afraid not, Nana. I’m the Captain and I’m going down with my ship.” he stated, “And someone needs to make sure they can’t shut down the overload.”
“Transfer all fire controls to my station and get the hell out of here.”
“Aye Sir, It’s been an honor” the XO replied
“The honor is all mine. You are going to make an excellent Captain. Goodbye my friend” Captain Král finished.
His bridge crew tried to convince him to go with them but he declined and ordered security to get them into the escape pods.
Then he sat and watched as his consoles began reporting each pod as it launched. He also kept an eye on his sensors and concentrated fire on any Naalx ship that was moving to intercept the pods. They knew better than to fire on them but nothing said they couldn’t capture them.
He also prepared a probe with all the ship logs and combat data and fired it toward human-held territory. It would run silently until it exited the system and then begin broadcasting a coded signal for pickup.
He was dismayed at how few pods had left the ship and regretted so many young lives had been cut short.
As he saw the last pod clear the battlefield, he sat back for a moment and then triggered the charge on the main computer.
A hard pounding came from the other side of the hatchway. But there wasn’t enough power to open it. He guessed the pinging on the door was them firing their lasers and trying to blast it open.
He wondered if it would work but a huge rumble, a bright flash, interrupted, and the long career of Captain Král was finally over.
News of the Roanoke’s final battle flashed across news channels on hundreds of worlds. Her courageous and foolhardy charge at a superior force. The damage she did to the Naalx fleet before her destruction. How, of the 1859 members of the crew that went into the battle, only 108 survived.
The videos taken from both sides during the battle played over and over again.
How the Naalx picked up all the escape pods and released them on the station immediately.
And even recovered the bodies of any human they found while gathering their dead.
Naalx losses were the command ship, 2 capital ships, 9 sub-capitals destroyed, and a dozen other vessels damaged in one form or another. Naalx casualties were over 50,000 dead
Only the Naalx’s immense respect for courage, audacity, and bravery in the face of danger kept the skirmish from blowing up into a war.
The Naalx rendered full military honors as they turned the Human dead over to Lt. Commander Ricci.
The Captain Král, A Grenville-class cruiser, was launched 2 years later. Captain Nana Ricci in command.
Authors note- I hope you enjoyed this story. It's based on a historical event. Which according to an idiot on youtube is plagiarism.
If you feel like leaving a tip https://ko-fi.com/tomcarey

My fiancé (34F) and I (37M) have been together for a little under 4 years. We’ve been engaged for a little under 2 of those years with no plans towards a wedding whatsoever (mainly because of costs). We started living together about 1.5 years after we met, previously only saw each other on the weekends because of living an hour away from each other. We truly love each other, and I want to make it clear out of the gate that she is a wonderful person.
Our issue is simple and complex at the same time. Ultimately, we’ve learned over the last 3+ years that we have SO little in common with one another that neither of us can imagine getting married. We agree on almost all core life principles: human rights, political believes, religious beliefs, value of family and friends, etc. We also have a shared love for cooking and our two dogs…but that’s pretty much it.
Firstly, I am a huge lover of nerd/pop culture and have been my whole life. She cannot get interested in any non-realistic fiction. We both respect each others’ tastes, but neither of us ENJOY the other’s favorite entertainment properties. We do enjoy the occasional standup special or documentary together but it’s few and far between.
As far as what we like to do for fun, I love to do activities: Pool, bowling, disc golf, skateboarding, etc. She likes sitting in coffee shops and exploring a new town’s Main Street. Again, we will gladly accompany each other in doing these things, but the other is not ENJOYING it.
As far as music, I love pop punk, prog rock and the like. She loves folk music. She says some of my music stresses her out, and her music really bums me out lol. There are some common artists we like but we listened to them to death. We’ve both accompanied each other to concerts, but only one of us truly enjoys the experience.
There are lots of other differences - the fashion we find attractive, our senses of humor (largely but not totally), etc. I don’t want to paint the picture that we are miserable around each other. We both enjoying spending time together, trust each other, and sometimes laugh together. We also have always known we have very differing tastes, but it was only in the last year did we both start feeling uneasy about the vast nature of it.
How did we even get this far, and why are we engaged? I have a theory. For the first year and a half of our relationship, we each lived with our respective best friends and only saw each other on the weekends. I think any "vaccancies" we had in our relationship could be easily looked over when you only see each other 2 days a week, and all of your other needs are being fulfilled by your friend. Once we moved in together, I think a 2nd honeymoon phase started, and it wasn't for many months after we got engaged did I realize that I wasn't participating in a lot of the things I loved to do.
I also know that your partner shoulnd't fill every need in your life. Some needs get filled by friends, family, etc. The problem is that our friends are all so spread out and far away. We both live close to an hour from any of our friends. And I know I don't have to elaborate on how difficult it is to make plans in your 30s when you live that far away from people. Even if I did have more of my needs met by friends, I feel like we would still be coming home to each other which nothing to talk about between us.
I KNOW no couple is going to have everything in common. I know that a long term relationship is about compromise and work. My concern is that we have SO LITTLE in common that it feels like we live on different planets sometimes. One of my fiance's biggest concerns is that more often than not, we sit at the dinner table or in the car in silence because we just don't have much to talk about between us.
Our lease on our apt is up in July, and we’ve been in couples counseling for about 6 months. We both know that we aren’t going to change our tastes as people, but it would be a matter of our acceptance that we will never share the things we love between us. That we would have to find another glue that binds us together. My fiancé is of the mind that although she isn’t happy with our relationship, she’s willing to wait it out indefinitely to see if our perspectives change. I don’t feel like I could do this indefinitely, even another year for the lease. Our relationship is painful and although I truly love her, I really don’t know if we’re compatible for a lifetime.
My question to couples who don’t have much in common is simple: is this all superficial? Am I being a ‘baby’ that I’m not willing to give this another year to see what happens? Is there some perspective that I’m missing? I don’t want to throw away a relationship with a wonderful, loving person because of what turned out to be superficial reasons. At the same time, it feels like this is way more than the average case of not having a lot in common.
tl;dr: My fiancé and I love each other but have so little in common, that we’re questioning whether to stay together. I just want to know from couples like us if this is normal?

My girlfriend(23F) and i (23M) after almost 4 years together broke up because she wanted us to grow at our own pace and not rush or keep behind the other person. We were a long distance couple most of the time we met in college when i was a sophomore and she was a freshman. We hit it off almost immediately after meeting. We had everything in common and both bounced off eachothers energy like we were long time best friends after about 2 months i asked her to be my girlfriend. She and i lived in different states so over the summer breaks and christmas breaks we would do long distance but we made sure to text and facetime as much as we were able to and it would be pretty much everyday. We did this consistently for the first 2 and a half years. We rarely had any fights and the fight we would have we be over something we miscommunication and we always would talk about it until we solved it. Everything seemed perfect until the topic of moving in together was brought up my senior year of college. She dropped out to pursue something else but i was going in to pursue med school and that was something i told her before we started dating. Due to some poor performance on my end i wasnt able to get into any school so my second option was nursing and the same thing happened. This kinda lead me down a depression that affected me a lot just because that was something i was pursuing since i was in elementary school. I got over it after a few weeks and continued to look for alternative careers but my girlfriend was more focused on the moving in part. I always reassured her that we were going to move in as soon as we can afford it but she wanted dates and exact time frames on when i was moving in. At that time it was around April and she kept nagging me about the dates and i eventually we settled for october which would have given me enough time to work at my summer job ive been working in once i graduated and save as much as i could to move in. Once i graduated college i called up my boss and he kindly let me know that they were not any positions open for me to work and to me that brought instant stress because fast forward it took me almost 2 months to find the job i work at now but it was already end of july heading into august. Before i got the job in june my gf mom kicked her out of the house because she was moving in with her current boyfriend and selling their house. She moved into this really nice apartment but she aaked me if i would move in with her right then. I had to tell her i could not do it just because financially i couldnt afford it and she told me she could get me a job there but i told her that the job she could get me is not something i want to stay in forever and that i wanted to atleast find a job in a career that i would enjoy and make decent money in. This led to the first of many arguments that would ultimately lead to the break up. At the end of that fight she basically gave me an ultimatum that if i dont move in by October shes breaking up with and this was the mistake on my end that i regret, i agreed because i was scared of losing her. After that fast forwarding to September about two weeks before i was gonna move in i told my parents my plan whats been going on. Basically they said that she shouldnt be forcing you to do that and that you need to tell her that you just don't have enough saved up and arent ready to move out yet. I eventually had to tell her and she burst into a frenzy saying how im a lier and how i broke her heart which i can totally see her side and why it did. After apologizing as much as i could she didnt talk to me for like a week. I thought then i had lost her and was broken. After that week she texts me that she apologizes for the outrage and that she understands my side but that she doesnt wanna wait years for us to finally be together in person again and i kept reassuring again that it wasnt gonna take years i just needed to figure my finances and my career before im ready to move in. We made up and i even flew out every month or so for a few days to see her in person so that we could see eachother. Since then we went back to texting and facetime pretty much everyday and then fast forward to about a month ago out of nowhere she right a big paragraph on how this just isnt gonna work and that she wants to have a break from eachother until we figure ourselves out. I agreed and said that yes maybe it is the best we take a break for a bit. Her birthday in june and i had bought a plane ticket and called off my work to go and see her for her birthday prior the the break. I contacted her 2 weeks after and let her know that i still plan on coming to see her and she said alright. A week later about 2 days ago after havent talked she randomly texts how she thinks its best for me not to come down and break up for real this time. She explained that she just wants to be alone and wants time for us to grow at our on paces and not worry about eachother. She said that she still wants us to be friends and send eachother memes and text just not romantically. She also said that shes not doing this because she wants to see other people she just wants us to come back together when we are both self sufficient. I respect her decision but deep inside i was distraught and hopeless because the girl that i put my all into and sacrificed all my time and money just dumped me and not even in the way it happens she still wanted to be friends which makes this feeling worse. If someone was able to read all of this rant what should i do? i am still deeply in love with her and i can tell she still does too but i honestly dont know how to feel or work to get her back.

Me and my girlfriend have been together for 6 months, she was constantly lying to me, mouthing me off to her friends and lying more.
Late February we ran into issues i won't go in detail about but it involved her starting to talk about people she was attracted to to me and in public which resulted in people mocking me. among other things that crossed my boundaries. it deeply upset me to severe points i can't say here. and she continued to lie about everything going on constantly anyway. I told her if she just tells me the truth I'll actually be able to get over it but she never did but swore up and down she did and she became pretty convincing. We temporarily broke up for about a week and she came back crying and sent me paragraph after paragraph claiming they were the truth about everything start to finish and i actually believed her since it was all new and fresh information with actual tears behind them.
Fast forward a month and i join her friend groups discord server and see deleted conversations regarding me, so i text a guy who was kicked out of their internet group and asked him what it was about. He sent me pictures of what was said, and they had deleted thounsands of texts about me, and of things they thought i "wouldn't like", like letting her guy friends make jokes about how tight she is?? Apparently that one was gay but still insane regardless. My girlfriend had alsp been telling her friends in there about specifically the problems i was having, calling me controlling and telling them how upset i was in detail, which is something i specifically BEGGED her not to do, because i was paranoid she would and i was scared of looking like a loser. I'd like to mention that i reminded her at least once a week if she told me anymore lies ever I'd leave her instantly. So i confront her about this and she instantly breaks down and admits it was ALL a lie since she came back to me, she said her reasoning wasn't malicious but because she instinctively tells me whatever she thinks will fix the situation in the moment and she wanted me back.
I acted like i was going to block her and instead told her I'd take her back under certain conditions like showing me her entire phone and whatnot.
Instead of leaving i tell her things like "i don't love you like i did BACK THEN" and "i don't find you as attractive as i used to honestly" i no longer compliment her, and when i do its backhanded "you look good even tho you gained all that weight" just stuff like that, and then i love bomb her to build her back up and do it again just to hear her cry and beg for my forgiveness about what she did.
Personally i think this is deserved because of the amount her bullshit made me depressed, crying, ect. It makes me believe she deserves to feel the same thing.
Final note, she has lied about A LOT more than i include in this post and done a lot more. This is just the frame work of her shit.

After about 60 hours, I have finally put the XIII Trilogy to rest with Lightning Returns. I went into this game with only vague high school memories of a bad story, a boring world, and a mediocre combat system, so my expectations were low. But damn, was I entirely wrong. Let’s get into it!
The Story
The Good: I really enjoyed the main narrative here, Lightning’s journey to save her sister and, begrudgingly, as many people as she can slowly turning into a journey to save her own soul is great, and I felt it satisfyingly wrapped up the overarching narrative of the trilogy. I also enjoyed how the side quests expanded on the concepts and themes of the plot and helped undermine some of the facts stated at the start (like Lightning not being able to save the dead or only humans having souls).
The Neutral: I wish that the ending had been a bit more explicit in the fates of the party, because it was dissatisfying not knowing if Serah and Snow ended up together finally and if everyone stayed in touch. I also think the scenes before the final dungeon could have been fleshed out more, especially when Noel returns.
The Bad: they gave Noel Brynhildr and let him take Sazh’s place in the finale. I was very satisfied with Sazh’s story in the main game, but damn was he done dirty in the end. He should have been there while Noel searched for Serah’s soul. The dialogue writing was also quite messy, lots of repetition and “reveals” of things we’d already known for ages.
The Characters
The Good: I loved all of the original main party members in this game. Seeing them all reduced to their absolute worst, desperately needing someone to come and snap them out, was awesome, and I loved seeing them all come to their senses. I also really liked the role Lumina played, intentionally antagonizing each main character after Lightning beats some sense into them to light a fire in them and make them, in a way, save their own souls.
The Neutral: While it was awesome to have Fang as a party member, I wish she’d stayed with you even after the main quest, and that Noel, Snow, and Sazh had been party members after their quest lines as well.
The Bad: there’s not much else beyond Sazh’s sidelining in the finale.
The Music
The Good: the new compositions are generally very good, with the area and most of the battle themes in particular standing out.
The Neutral: I wish they’d used less music from previous entries, it made the soundtrack as a whole feel less fresh as I played through it.
The Bad: there are a few battle themes that are quite repetitive and mediocre, and the game runs into a common open world issue where there’s not enough variety, internal or external, to area themes to sustain large amount of playtime in a given area. Loading screens also cut off the soundtrack, even in continuous zones like the Ultimate Lair, which really ruins the vibe.
The World
The Good: exploring Luxerion, Yusnaan, and the Wildlands was a lot of fun, lots of books and crannies to find treasures and NPCs with quests or interesting dialogue. Having Odin/Angel in the Wildlands helped that zone feel more manageable as well.
The Neutral: The Dead Dunes were a bit too big to not have any real alternate mode of transport. The teleportation statues are a nice feature, but we definitely could have used something like Odin here. I also found Yusnaan confusing to navigate at times, though it got better as I went on.
The Bad: The Ultimate Lair and final dungeon were a bit of a letdown, very simple in their design and mostly just enemy gauntlets. I also found the Temple Ruins in the Dead Dunes tedious to navigate.
The Combat
The Good: Combat in this game feels amazing. Switching schema is a ton of fun and very fluid, and figuring out the optimal ways to stagger enemies is great. I like that the game encourages unique and personalized builds to tackle most challenges as well, and the multitude of healing options at your disposal keep things from feeling too bleak. I also like that you can permanently eliminate monster species with enough effort, it really makes the combat feel meaningful.
The Neutral: enemy variety could definitely have been better, even just having multiple enemies in a “family” like the Vali/Hanuman line. It certainly would have been less repetitive than skewering a Gremlin over and over. I also wish movement outside of attacking was faster.
The Bad: some encounters are incredibly annoying, especially large monsters before the last few days and Archangeli, which just suck to fight. I also strongly dislike the Stagger indicator, which doesn’t tell you anything and would have been better served being the gauge from XIII/XIII-2.
The Character Progression
The Good: having so many ways to customize Lightning is really cool. Between earning your stats from the different quest types, to choosing between specializing or generalizing your abilities, to the various ways garbs, accessories, weapons, and shields interact, to the upgrade systems for abilities and gear, it really feels like you can tailor Lightning to your playstyle. It’s cool that NG+ can be used to continue pushing your stats up to and even beyond their limits. I also loved the dress up aspect for the most part.
The Neutral: it’s unfortunate that equipment upgrading is NG+ only. It’s a system that would have been nice to have access to earlier, at least so you could start gathering the material. Upgrading abilities also takes a fair amount of resources to do, and the lack of input on auto-abilities for them is a bummer.
The Bad: the interface for ability upgrading is just bad, and makes an already tedious process even more so. There’s also a pretty large disparity in the usefulness of some garbs, and I have to say it: while the changes to appearance are cool, some of these costumes are ridiculous and wildly out of character for Lightning to even consider wearing.
The Content
The Good: I like that there are categories of quests. Some of them are passively ready to be completed as you kill enemies, some require much more interaction and may reveal some cool lore, and of course the main quests that can be picked up and dropped at any time are a solid feature for a game like this. I also like that some side quests are integrated into the story, not always necessarily needed to complete the game but certainly helpful. There’s also no minigames or puzzles, which is a huge win after XIII-2.
The Neutral: the quest board rewards feel a bit underwhelming, especially for the ones that functionally require the extinction of a species, and the stat drops in NG+ are a bit drastic.
The Bad: turning in quests at the board is a slog, another victim of the poor menuing in this game. Some quests feel half-baked, and cool concepts brought up (like robots having souls) aren’t elaborated on.
Conclusion
Overall, I absolutely adored this game. It’s got a lot of rough patches, but the good parts more than make up for them. This has rapidly become one of my favorite games in the series and one of my favorites overall. I give it a 9.5/10, second only to the original XIII in this review series.
Thanks for reading if you got through all that. There was a lot to talk about this time. I’m planning to wrap up some NG+ runs and then dive into Type-0 for the first time, though I may detour and try to finish Tactics A2 again. We’ll see, I suppose. Until next time!

So my (26f) partner (30m) is African, and I am Indian. His family lives in Amsterdam whilst we are in London. The first time I met his mum a couple years ago was an unpleasant experience to say the least. I stayed over for around 5 days and the first 4 of them I was completely ignored. When I first saw her, I told her it was nice to finally meet her and I’d brought some fancy biscuit tins and chocolates for the family (not a huge deal, I just want to emphasise that I met her trying to be polite), she looked unimpressed and mumbled that I was welcome and turned away. After that there was no interaction. She wouldn’t even look me in the face let alone address me in any shape or form. My boyfriend even took us (me, his mum and his sisters) to dinner and again I was completely ignored by her even when I tried to ask her a question or two in the hopes of breaking the ice. Then on the last night I was there and my boyfriend was distracted on the phone, she called me in the kitchen to have a conversation. She said she didn’t know anything about me, asked me my name (I’m so sure my boyfriend had told her already), then she asks where I am from. I knew she wasn’t asking about London, so I told her I am Indian. And then she went on a little rant, telling me she didn’t like that I was Indian, she didn’t want her son to be with an Indian, she asked whether my parents even had jobs, asked if I had any education, she asked me if we worship Buddha. All whilst repeating that she didn’t want her son to be with an Indian. It was extremely hurtful, I left crying. My boyfriend intervened when he realised what was happening and it started an argument, she got defensive and started shouting at me asking if she’d said anything wrong (I didn’t answer). I left Amsterdam feeling very hurt and never wanting to come back.
Fast forward 2.5 years, I’ve met her three times since, though mostly because we don’t live in the same country. She’s been much more accepting since. She’s never apologised, just randomly started acting as if she liked me. I’ve been cautious around her naturally because I feel like I know what she really thinks of me deep down. I’ve also been polite in response. But I still cannot bring myself to care for her beyond that. I’m not rude, I try to make an effort, I’ve given her little gifts etc. I just have no interest in building our relationship beyond this. I don’t really have an interest in her life, for example when he calls back home and talks to his sisters and mum, I genuinely care about his sisters and want to know and be involved in what is happening in their lives, his mum , I don’t care to hear about it. Also the thought of our relationship progressing and bringing her around my family terrifies me. I understand people can change and even though she might not have apologised explicitly, she could still be feeling remorseful and is trying to make up for it somewhat.
I’ve forgiven the incident that happened, but it has caused me to have such a strong dislike to her, perhaps it’s a defence mechanism. I want to know whether I should be making more of an effort with her than I am, AITA for not when things are relatively good now?

After about 60 hours, I have finally put the XIII Trilogy to rest with Lightning Returns. I went into this game with only vague high school memories of a bad story, a boring world, and a mediocre combat system, so my expectations were low. But damn, was I entirely wrong. Let’s get into it!
The Story
The Good: I really enjoyed the main narrative here, Lightning’s journey to save her sister and, begrudgingly, as many people as she can slowly turning into a journey to save her own soul is great, and I felt it satisfyingly wrapped up the overarching narrative of the trilogy. I also enjoyed how the side quests expanded on the concepts and themes of the plot and helped undermine some of the facts stated at the start (like Lightning not being able to save the dead or only humans having souls).
The Neutral: I wish that the ending had been a bit more explicit in the fates of the party, because it was dissatisfying not knowing if Serah and Snow ended up together finally and if everyone stayed in touch. I also think the scenes before the final dungeon could have been fleshed out more, especially when Noel returns.
The Bad: they gave Noel Brynhildr and let him take Sazh’s place in the finale. I was very satisfied with Sazh’s story in the main game, but damn was he done dirty in the end. He should have been there while Noel searched for Serah’s soul. The dialogue writing was also quite messy, lots of repetition and “reveals” of things we’d already known for ages.
The Characters
The Good: I loved all of the original main party members in this game. Seeing them all reduced to their absolute worst, desperately needing someone to come and snap them out, was awesome, and I loved seeing them all come to their senses. I also really liked the role Lumina played, intentionally antagonizing each main character after Lightning beats some sense into them to light a fire in them and make them, in a way, save their own souls.
The Neutral: While it was awesome to have Fang as a party member, I wish she’d stayed with you even after the main quest, and that Noel, Snow, and Sazh had been party members after their quest lines as well.
The Bad: there’s not much else beyond Sazh’s sidelining in the finale.
The Music
The Good: the new compositions are generally very good, with the area and most of the battle themes in particular standing out.
The Neutral: I wish they’d used less music from previous entries, it made the soundtrack as a whole feel less fresh as I played through it.
The Bad: there are a few battle themes that are quite repetitive and mediocre, and the game runs into a common open world issue where there’s not enough variety, internal or external, to area themes to sustain large amount of playtime in a given area. Loading screens also cut off the soundtrack, even in continuous zones like the Ultimate Lair, which really ruins the vibe.
The World
The Good: exploring Luxerion, Yusnaan, and the Wildlands was a lot of fun, lots of books and crannies to find treasures and NPCs with quests or interesting dialogue. Having Odin/Angel in the Wildlands helped that zone feel more manageable as well.
The Neutral: The Dead Dunes were a bit too big to not have any real alternate mode of transport. The teleportation statues are a nice feature, but we definitely could have used something like Odin here. I also found Yusnaan confusing to navigate at times, though it got better as I went on.
The Bad: The Ultimate Lair and final dungeon were a bit of a letdown, very simple in their design and mostly just enemy gauntlets. I also found the Temple Ruins in the Dead Dunes tedious to navigate.
The Combat
The Good: Combat in this game feels amazing. Switching schema is a ton of fun and very fluid, and figuring out the optimal ways to stagger enemies is great. I like that the game encourages unique and personalized builds to tackle most challenges as well, and the multitude of healing options at your disposal keep things from feeling too bleak. I also like that you can permanently eliminate monster species with enough effort, it really makes the combat feel meaningful.
The Neutral: enemy variety could definitely have been better, even just having multiple enemies in a “family” like the Vali/Hanuman line. It certainly would have been less repetitive than skewering a Gremlin over and over. I also wish movement outside of attacking was faster.
The Bad: some encounters are incredibly annoying, especially large monsters before the last few days and Archangeli, which just suck to fight. I also strongly dislike the Stagger indicator, which doesn’t tell you anything and would have been better served being the gauge from XIII/XIII-2.
The Character Progression
The Good: having so many ways to customize Lightning is really cool. Between earning your stats from the different quest types, to choosing between specializing or generalizing your abilities, to the various ways garbs, accessories, weapons, and shields interact, to the upgrade systems for abilities and gear, it really feels like you can tailor Lightning to your playstyle. It’s cool that NG+ can be used to continue pushing your stats up to and even beyond their limits. I also loved the dress up aspect for the most part.
The Neutral: it’s unfortunate that equipment upgrading is NG+ only. It’s a system that would have been nice to have access to earlier, at least so you could start gathering the material. Upgrading abilities also takes a fair amount of resources to do, and the lack of input on auto-abilities for them is a bummer.
The Bad: the interface for ability upgrading is just bad, and makes an already tedious process even more so. There’s also a pretty large disparity in the usefulness of some garbs, and I have to say it: while the changes to appearance are cool, some of these costumes are ridiculous and wildly out of character for Lightning to even consider wearing.
The Content
The Good: I like that there are categories of quests. Some of them are passively ready to be completed as you kill enemies, some require much more interaction and may reveal some cool lore, and of course the main quests that can be picked up and dropped at any time are a solid feature for a game like this. I also like that some side quests are integrated into the story, not always necessarily needed to complete the game but certainly helpful. There’s also no minigames or puzzles, which is a huge win after XIII-2.
The Neutral: the quest board rewards feel a bit underwhelming, especially for the ones that functionally require the extinction of a species, and the stat drops in NG+ are a bit drastic.
The Bad: turning in quests at the board is a slog, another victim of the poor menuing in this game. Some quests feel half-baked, and cool concepts brought up (like robots having souls) aren’t elaborated on.
Conclusion
Overall, I absolutely adored this game. It’s got a lot of rough patches, but the good parts more than make up for them. This has rapidly become one of my favorite games in the series and one of my favorites overall. I give it a 9.5/10, second only to the original XIII in this review series.
Thanks for reading if you got through all that. There was a lot to talk about this time. I’m planning to wrap up some NG+ runs and then dive into Type-0 for the first time, though I may detour and try to finish Tactics A2 again. We’ll see, I suppose. Until next time!