Coi phim online full house |

Hi . I was homeless for a brief period barely making ends meet when my mother passed away. I’m just now at a good place with a full time job finally . I was living off credit cards and anything I could to survive my credit score is 488 I missed many payments on 4k of student loans and 5k in credit card debt I also have a auto loan now with a new vehicle. I’m just tired of getting beat up by life I’m trying to go to. Truck school make money by living in the truck if I have to I’m tired Of being on the edge of homelessness I’m 28 what should I do I feel like if I make one mistake I’ll be homeless it’s terrifying. Even now my lights are Turned off in my mother’s house which I’m living in from not paying the electric bill when I was homeless. It’s just a very bad situation I’m in I’m trying so hard to get out of it . Am I the only one who has experienced this is there hope for someone like me

TL;DR RV rear ended my custom RV (converted school bus). Fully insured. Not at fault, though fault has not been given to either just yet. All moving plans have been ruin, stuck in AZ, and our expenses have instantly skyrocketed. No physical injuries. What kind of lawyer do we need?
So my wife and I spent 3 years converting a rear-engine school bus into a full sized RV to camp in during our moving trip to West Virginia, as well as to camp there while we house shop. We were able to get it fully insured through state farm. We are in the middle of that trip, sitting in a nothing-town in Arizona, because another RVer rear-ended me in our bus. Insurance has deemed it a total loss, and we collect our belongings that aren't attached to the bus tomorrow.
The crash: I'm going down the freeway at no faster than 57mph, maintaining my lane (righthand lane). My wife in our pickup truck behind me notices a class A motor home coming up too close beside her and she veers to the right to avoid being clipped. Simultaneously, I'm noticing the same motor home quickly veering into my lane from the left in my side mirrors. There's no way I can avoid, so I hit my horn and they collide into my left rear corner. I pull to the shoulder, the other RVer continues forward for a bit, and pulls over to the shoulder 300 feet ahead. Left rear corner of my rig as well as the engine compartment door are completely caved in, and all coolant is on the road, and possibly other fluids. We don't know what else is damaged inside the bus, but we did find glass all over the bedroom. We will be finding this out tomorrow.
This happened on a Friday, so insurance claim reps are off for the weekend, as well are the state police office responsible for filing the troopers report, so we've been sitting here processing and grieving everything we just lost. This wasn't just a vehicle, it was our home that we busted our asses to build, along with a plan that took a lot of effort to set up. It's all gone now, and I'm not feeling very confident that insurance is going to save us. This is just based on an anxious feeling right now, but I've heard of people being dropped before. The other party's insurance was not cooperating with me when I asked for a tow, so I have had to file everything with my own insurance. My insurance is aware that we have to spend money on food, hotel, and a U-Haul so we have been advised to keep receipts. It costs us a minimum of $200 a day to stay where we are, and I have not yet gotten a guarantee of reimbursement. Plus insurance needs to come collect the bus, so we have to get our things out of it tomorrow.
At this point we are getting advice from some family saying that we should be looking for a lawyer. We started doing that, and we have gotten turned down twice; one because I wasn't physically injured, the other said that this is insurance' responsibility for now. So we got turned down by personal injury firms, so what kind of lawyer should we be looking for, if at all? We feel like our situation is one that may fall through the cracks and we are scared to death. This was supposed to be a vacation/moving trip, and now it just feels like we are losing everything for nothing.
I feel like I should add that we are disabled vets, and this certainly isn't helping me with the anxiety I left the service with.

My sister is due with her second child in the summer. My parents are flying in an ocean and continent away for two weeks to help her with the newborn and her firstborn, who has special needs.
For some reason she doesn't want them staying with her when they arrive from the airport, instead telling them that they'd have to stay with someone else for the first few days to make them have fewer germs? I mean I get it, you'll have a newborn and have a special needs kid, so I understand the paranoia.
Then the rest of the time, she's expecting them to basically wait on her hand and foot while she and her husband bond with their new baby and figure out how to be a family together.
We got into an argument last night because I didn't know any of the logistics. I talked to our parents right before I talked to her, and they made it sound like that they were expecting to stay with either my uncle or us while they were here.
She said stuff like, "It's common sense to know that our parents are flying over to help take care of me," and "The sole reason why they are flying over is to help me with the newborn and our firstborn."
My family and I live a little over an hour away from where my sister does. My parents have also talked about seeing my kids and spending some time with them. Since they now live so far away, we don't know the next time we'll all see each other.
My husband and I have also not been out of state for a trip by ourselves since we've been married, aside from visiting family out of state. So to surprise my husband, I planned a trip out of state for 4 days for his birthday. I also confirmed with my parents if they could help with the kids those 4 days and they agreed to. This was before I found out anything about my sister's due date, where my parents would be staying, etc.
I wasn't expecting my parents to basically be temporary servants at my sister's house the whole time they were visiting, and from the conversation with my parents, neither did they.
My sister also doesn't want my kids to be with my parents when they visit her (my kids will be out of school when my parents visit), because she's scared they'll hurt her children or bring germs to the house. Honestly, we've been lucky with dodging a lot of sicknesses because I'm a germaphobe and I've taught my kids well. They're also up to date with all of their vaccinations. I understand her hesitancy though because she wants to protect her newborn and special needs child.
Her husband has two sets of inlaws, but according to her, neither of them will be around those two weeks my parents will be here, because she expected them to take care of her the whole time. Actually, one set of in laws will be in the area, but they've made their own plans with RV travels she said.
I asked if it would be ok if she would be able to find someone those days we'd be out of state, and she freaked out, in disbelief that I would even suggest something like that. Instead she asked if anyone else on my side of the family could help.
All of my husband's family are a couple of hours plane rides away, several hours driving, and none of them can come to us. We'd have to go to them, and both my husband and I are working full time. We're trying to build up our time off because he's had to use a lot of his on family emergencies and I've had to use a lot due to a chronic medical condition. We're already going to be using some on my husband's birthday trip.
AITAH for taking my parents away from taking care of my sister postpartum?

TLDR: I’m asking spouse to help with indoor chores and he doesn’t want to. What have other full time working couples done to share household responsibilities?
My husband (34 M) and I (31 F) have been together 9 years. Most of those years have been living in the same house. The issue is he is not very helpful with indoor chores. What have others in similar situations done to make their household run smoothly? When we first got together I was a full time student with an internship that reimbursed me for school and travel. I didn’t have much to financially contribute to our household. I did most everything around the house, and he took care of mowing the lawn, household improvements, etc. At the time I acknowledge I couldn’t help financially but I could take care of the house, laundry, cook, etc. A year later I finished my degree, started working and we joined our finances. I continued my education to obtain a nursing degree. I worked throughout the remaining prerequisites and continued as the main manager of the household. When I started nursing school I stopped working so I could focus on my studies (I am very grateful to have been able to do this as I know many others aren’t as fortunate). I maintained my duties cooking, cleaning, grocery shopping, meal planning, etc. When I’d ask for help I’d get a lot of attitude. He’d refuse to help and say that when I’m working then it would be reasonable for him to help because I wasn’t currently contributing financially to our household. I didn’t like it but I accepted his reasoning. 2 years pass, I successfully complete nursing school and start working a month after graduation. I have a 2 hr commute (an hour there and back) and work 12 hr shifts. My days are not consistent nor are my start times. Finally I am making some significant money contribution. So I ask about him helping more around the house. The house things are daily tasks whereas his outside stuff is once a week or less. More attitude. Now the argument is “that’s just not how our relationship is set up. That not how his parents live” - so no help for me. Now he wants to start a family. We have been unable to conceive and are just starting to see a fertility clinic. He says “oh yeah, when we have a kid then I’ll help more cuz right now you don’t need it, you just want help!” He’s also said he just doesn’t like doing house chores. Shockingly - I don’t believe this will be the case. Currently if I work a weekend (which he consistently has off) I will come home to dirty dishes stacked up, all his dirty laundry, junk mail all over, full litter box, etc. I’ve asked him so many times that if he’s off work, and I am not PLEASE just clean up the mess you are making! Don’t save it for me to do on my next day off. I get so much attitude for asking simple things like that. He will ask if I’m going to help with the lawn, or building a wood shed (please note many of these projects go unfinished). I have helped with many outdoor projects. I explain those are valid but they’re not things that need to be done every day. The things that I take care of are the daily chores. And I’m not home daily! I want to work this out! I do not want to have such a traditionally run household. I do not see myself as the traditional housewife as I work outside the home 36+ hrs a week. I really want to have a better solution to this long standing issue (this has been going on for 4+ years) before we bring a child into the mix. People with similar issues, if you’ve found a solution please share!!!!

For some background, my partner used to be a mechanic and, although he doesn’t work at a garage anymore, he offers to help out people we know if they’re having car troubles. My ex-colleague (I’ll call her P) had her car fail its MOT and my partner offered to help her out for a small labour charge for the day. He paid for the parts and installed them on her driveway. She paid him for the agreed labour charge and we said she could pay for the parts at a later date (rookie mistake). There was no formal contract between us but we did discuss payment for the parts over text. We provided the receipts and told P the price of the parts (£75) and she agreed she’d pay it. Again, no formal contract was signed but there was written agreement for this via text.
P was later sacked and I was sympathetic and told her to not worry about paying the £75 until she found a new job. Well, she’s found a new job since then and has been in employment for over six months now.
However, it’s been almost a full year and she still hasn’t paid us back despite the fact I’ve asked her five separate times. Each time, she acknowledges that she still owes the money and has just “forgotten” or “will pay it back on the next pay day”. Each time it doesn’t happen and I’m left having to chase her again.
I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want to get aggressive with her but it’s really frustrating. Me and my partner are only 22 and trying to save up for a house. £75 might not seem a lot but it’s what my partner is owed at the end of the day. I don’t know anything about the legal system or court cases so I’m sorry if I come across like a moron. Is this something we could settle in a small claims court and does it cost anything to go down that route? Any advice would her appreciated, thanks.
[ we are in England btw ]

Hey everyone I am looking for friends! I am 36, and I am flight crew so I get paid to travel and see the world. So I do not operate on any specific time zone and I am a nomadic world traveler even though I live in Florida, but I see all 4 seasons. I am a nerd and I love gaming. So if I’m not tired I am usually awake.
I am also an electronic music producer. I produce house, techno, drum and bass, etc.
I am VERY picky about who I associate with and talk to/make friends with. I am extroverted but SELECTIVE extroverted. I am looking for people that know how to hold a conversation and are fun to talk to!!!
Feel free to message me! US only please!
I am looking for real life friends, not just online friends! Where is my bestie?!

If you want to play micro stakes, this is the place for you.
Anything mid stakes to high, be prepared to loose your nut full house or flush to a 🏃 runner runner super user.
Call me a “Rigtard” or claim “variance”
This is a scam site with super users and colluding players.
THIS SITE IS A SCAM.

Hey everyone I am looking for friends! I am 36, and I am flight crew so I get paid to travel and see the world. So I do not operate on any specific time zone and I am a nomadic world traveler even though I live in Florida, but I see all 4 seasons. I am a nerd and I love gaming. So if I’m not tired I am usually awake.
I am also an electronic music producer. I produce house, techno, drum and bass, etc.
I am VERY picky about who I associate with and talk to/make friends with. I am extroverted but SELECTIVE extroverted. I am looking for people that know how to hold a conversation and are fun to talk to!!!
Feel free to message me! US only please!
I am looking for real life friends, not just online friends! Where is my bestie?!

hi!
im almost done with my first year of university and im excited for the summer! i’d love to get to know some new people and make some new online friends!
send me an interesting chat and tell me about yourself! please be able to hold a conversation and put effort into our talks. im super down to talk about literally anything as long as we vibe! but don’t just hit me with “hey”/“hi”/“what’s up”/etc.
tell me about your passions. vent to me about your job. tell me about how amazing your relationship is or how messy the break up was; im here for the tea. tell me if you’re team kendrick or team drake (there’s only one right answer). are you watching the nba playoffs? tell me about your summer vacation plans. your fav new show or song. tell me if current events worry you. tell me if you’re happy with life. talk to me about anything; let’s have a great conversation? :)
a little about me:

im lebanese / canadian
im a goofy sarcastic person at heart, i love to make people laugh, im pretty open minded and if you need someone to rant to or vent im a good listener
i have an older sister
i love back and forth playful banter, roasting each other and all things that energy
im a night owl (est time zone, bonus points if you can keep me company late at night)
in my freshmen year of university in canada; i want to be a doctor eventually
i have have the cutest cloud dog
im super outgoing and outdoorsy and want to travel the world as much as possible, i love to visit different areas and take part in new experiences! hiking through mountains, kayaking, rafting, camping, soaking in the sights and the atmosphere, and trying all the amazing local food. love going out with friends to concerts, to dance, to go on road trips and cottage trips
i love to stay active, im a big basketball fan. (also a casual nfl fan)
i have progressive / leftist views. im bisexual. pro-choice, lgbtqia+, etc
love hiphop and r&b the most but a listen to a bit of everything else too
some shows i love: breaking bad, the bear, russian doll, game of thrones (before it became terrible), avatar the last airbender, house md (also i watch a few anime)
some movies I love: everything everywhere all at once, spiderverse 2, the dark knight, interstellar, the incredibles
i don’t play video games
i love to read too; hot take, the percy jackson (and sequel) series > the harry potter series

if any of that interests you send me a chat and let’s talk 💕 (i may get too many chats to reply to everyone so I apologize in advance! please keep that in mind but I’ll try to eventually get to everyone that grabs my attention thank you!)

So i recently hired a table for doing nails in a salon. I have my own prices and clients are going all well.
BUT i have 1 client (older lady) who just isnt hygienic. I place short biab nails on her. But everytime i do a refill/new set i can see that she has filth under her nails. A lot of filth. (I even think its feces). She also admits she doesnt wash her hands or take showers because she hates water. And by that She doesnt wanna pay 5$ more for the cleaning service. I have a lot of cleaning to do on her and i have to give her a handbath everytime. I only ask 20$ for a full short set. I live in a small town so i cant ask a lot more. Its a normal price in this region
I explained it all to her that she could get a fungus for bein this unhygienic. And that it could be that next time i have to decline her. If she doesnt wanna pay the extra fee. It's really that bad. But i dont feel good rejecting her. But what do i need to do? Give her the cleaning service for free? Takes me about 30 minutes, no lie. And maybe my other clients wanting tesame service for free. OR Decline her if she doesnt want to pay the 5$ extra. Knowing that she will go somewhere else.
I am not going to put nails on dirty fingers. So thats not an option. I took extra classes for being a clean hygiene nailartist. And money is not an issue, she isnt poor at all, but more like a cheap person. She always walks around with +500$ in her wallet. Does have several houses that she rents and is known in town by being cheap and a "weasel" (not my words)
Ps. English is not my 1st language so sorry if there are mistakes.

I 29(f) have not spoken to my father in about 7 years. At 16 he kicked me out and kept a lot of my personal items, photos of my mother(his ex wife) my birth certificate and just other items that had nothing to do with him. Fast forward to last year, he gets a messy divorce with my step mother, is kicked out of the house for 60 days for domestic assault. During that time she finds all of my items and returns them to me. He is now telling my sister that he is filing a warrant or suing me for theft of his property. Can any of this actually happen? I would believe it’s considered marital property belonging to both of them. Either way, I’m having panic over this, I live 10 hours away from him. Tennese is where he resides, my address is listed in online places, I reside in Oklahoma. Any information would be very appreciated.

I (F33) have a partner (M33) and we have children together. My partner has a kink. He largely kept this hidden from me for 11 years (he said due to shame/embarassment). He has mentioned it but very briefly and said he didn't want to try it at that time. A few months ago we started discussing it and I said I'd be up for trying it with him. So we have been. I also found out around the same time that he had been posting erotic content about it online for years without my knowledge and having some direct conversations with readers about the stories.
Fast forward and feeling comfortable with it, he has now set up a business around this kink, which is growing nicely. I found out a week ago that he had been responding to DMs from people using his erotic persona. Some of these messages weren't to people who were interested in buying content. I was very upset about this as felt like he'd crossed a boundary but he feels like it's just part of the role related to the business and not an issue as he doesn't intend for the conversations to go anywhere personal.
In the last few days he's been saying he'd like to attend an erotic social event and potentially go without me. We have recently had a child so I don't think I could go on my own for quite a while and he's concerned that I'll be scrutinising his every move if I do go. I feel like he should delay and go when I can go and when our relationship has healed and my trust has rebuilt. He feels like it should be okay for him to go on his own because it's just about him meeting others who have an interest in his kink, finding out what they do, what kind of people they are. I feel like it's not a great time as we're unable to do much sexual stuff together currently due to new baby and I'm feeling insecure due to the stuff he's ommitted to tell me around this kink for years. What do you think? How reasonable is he being to ask this? How reasonable is he being to want to go alone and not wait for me? He doesn't like feeling controlled and I have some insecurities which can make giving full trust difficult.

I was molested by my fifteen year old neighbor when I was eight. Because it wasn't your typical situation, I was actually hoping she would of been my wife. Fast forward a few years later, we moved apart and when she came back into my life -- I was then sixteen and in my first real relationship with another victim of what I would now consider to be rape.
I broke up with her shortly after and began to have an emotional crisis because our relationship was founded on meaningless sex and when I looked at when my neighbor did what she had, I began to see certain cycles repeating.
So, I started looking into statistics -- started talking to my folks, ask if they were molested, come to find... yea. Both of their mothers and both of my parents were victims of rape.
And I'm growing up in Irvine at the time -- walking around seeing old Asian men smack their wives, or hearing them beat each other through the walls when I lived in apartments/connected condos, thinking about when my first real partner cheated on me -- thinking about how I forgave her because I was just a stupid child who was hoping to gain some real world experience.
And I started to think about all the racial stigmas we have about each other and how I've seen these echo across all ethnicities -- and of course, I've been wondering how many of the people pushing these lazy thoughts have pointed that finger back at people close to them or related to them for that matter.
Well, somewhere along the way through my existential crisis -- I was reading about Siddartha.
And at the time, I was exercising for eight hours a day, practicing calligraphy, taking speech and debate club, doing acting, etc... tl;dr -- being groomed for a level of success that I ultimately wasn't able to handle.
And then I snapped. I felt like I wasn't in my own head. I couldn't sleep for days on end. I was now a visitor to my own life and all of that used to make me golden, was smothered in shit -- and I was quickly becoming poison.
I'd developed epilepsy from excessive sleep deprivation, they took me to the docs, they gave me the drugs that erased my ability to be there -- I weened myself off the drugs due to a deep mistrust of a system that didn't seem to care, fell into insanity -- became homeless, fell from my parents insurance, couldn't get the medical help I needed because they don't care for you when you're here -- and its been down hill ever since.
I've no kids, I've only ever been with three women, I've found it insanely easy to connect to people -- even easier to do everything I've ever done -- and with these easy connections, comes great pain. So, to avoid passing on my insanity -- I've quarantined myself.
Yes, there is a lot of information that is necessary to make a lot of this make sense -- but I'm thirty years old now, homeless, and am labeled a drug addict. At best I am a malnourished soon-to-be ALS patient slipping into nothing.
But while I've been slowly killing myself, I've traveled around the continent -- every state and most of mexico and some of Canada -- I see a lot of the same trash I see here, over there, and in myself I also see you guys.
Sorry for the rough story telling but I've been struggling with my own personal guilt conflated against a world that doesn't seem to be much better and yeah it's pretty shitty of me to put that on you guys because "just because of X doesn't mean Y is true, what about the exceptions to the rules"
But I'm sorry I'm homeless. I'm sorry my family and the government/quacks denies my disease. I'm sorry that I've never been able to keep it together.
I wish I became a drug addict, at least then -- you guys could of been right about me.
I don't want to live anymore. I've lived a relatively full life I think at least for someone in my position...
Mom's dead. Dad lost his shit. Sister doesn't wanna talk. Rest of my family is pretentious religious zealots. Or worse. My friends are all the scum of society apparently. So too must I be.
And the one woman besides my mom who ever treated me like a real human I had to push away because she was and is bound for success.
Fuck you all. Fuck me. Wish the rats would feast on me. I just want peace of mind.
I was never suicidal for all of my life -- I don't think I'm suicidal now, but I don't want to be alive anymore, but I don't want to be dead.
I look around me and the people who have their houses and etc, are starting to do things that remind me of when I lost my cool, and its freaking me out.
I wish I didn't smell like shit. I wish I wasn't afraid to reach out for help. I wish I had a job. I wish I had money. I wish my mom was still alive. I wish everyone was cool again. Or rather, I wish I was young and stupid again, oblivious to what I think very few people can see.

I am searching for a movie that would been released in the early 2000s. I thought it was Serendipity, but I just watched it and it didn't have the quote.
The quote was something like... "What is love to you?"or "What is the definition of love?"
And the answer was, "Love is the ??? for your soul's equal ????"
I would've watched this movie as a teenager in the 2000s and I think it was a rom com flick. I loved The Lake House and Serendipity...
I can't remember the full quote or the movie, unfortunately.

I 29(f) have not spoken to my father in about 7 years. At 16 he kicked me out and kept a lot of my personal items, photos of my mother(his ex wife) my birth certificate and just other items that had nothing to do with him. Fast forward to last year, he gets a messy divorce with my step mother, is kicked out of the house for 60 days for domestic assault. During that time she finds all of my items and returns them to me. He is now telling my sister that he is filing a warrant or suing me for theft of his property. Can any of this actually happen? I would believe it’s considered marital property belonging to both of them. Either way, I’m having panic over this, I live 10 hours away from him. Tennese is where he resides, my address is listed in online places, I reside in Oklahoma. Any information would be very appreciated.

“Get the fuck out of my house with this ‘ old country’ shit Sylvia, I’m serious. “ I hear my dad say from the kitchen downstairs.
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.

Can you give me advice about my decision.
Im graduating high school and I need hurry up and make a decision.
I seriously don’t really know what to do afterwards, as far professional/career wise, I’m not very sure. But everyone told me that going to college is very important, so I have no choice.
I’ve been working a “crabby job that a teenager would work” ever since I was 16, can’t believe that 3.5 years have already passed by. If I continue to work here any longer, that hobby isn’t going to age well.
I know that my peers and family won't take me seriously if I don't take things seriously or enroll in college or do something else. It will be assumed by others that I gave everything up to work at a bad job if I continue to work there
I’m terrible at math, seriously, I almost wasn’t certified to graduate because of math, I got lucky with COVID and summer school, I don’t know if I should to university though.
I heard the rumors on the internet, “don’t go to university, only go if you want to be a lawyer, doctor or an engineer.” I’m for sure not going to school for engineering why would I go to just miserably surfer? Hardcore math isn’t my thing.
I can only imagine the judgement I’ll receive if I don’t do nothing after I graduate, they’ll will assume I choose to work a crappy job for life. Or what if I take a year off, I heard it’s pros and cons, the cons are most likely to occur. Taking a whole year can be leave someone unmotivated, it’s like a body builder who’s been working out since he was 15, and then he decides to take a year off at 18, not being productive and by the time his year is up, he lost motivation and willpower to work out again.
Only major that caught my eye was marketing, I’m assuming that I can study this major, graduate and just work a regular office job with my degree and make a good salary. That’s what the lifestyle I expect after I graduate with that degree, but I could be wrong, there’s people who despise the 9-5 route the “matrix route.”
But if that was the case that would be better than me working my current crappy job for life.
Then there are the ridiculous 14-year-old TikTokers in the style of Andrew Tate, who have no clue how to start their own business. They genuinely say things like, "I'm going to drop out of high school and watch every single Andrew Tate video, take notes, and by no time I'll be a millionaire." - Does that truly work, you know? or how does it operate? It seems like no one will ever post a simple solution or even a YouTube video explaining how to get out of the matrix. However, the point of this entire paragraph is irrelevant.
One more random idea In my mind, I thought that since university is so expensive, what if I had to pay an outrageous amount of money each semester or asked my parents for assistance? What if I ended up failing overall, regretted my degree, or just didn't like it? In that case, my money would be lost, and I would probably end up in debt.
But I should be ok, right? It’s not like I’m going to school for 8 years to become a doctor in Harvard University or a private expensive college. It’s a public research university that interests me is located not far from my house.
My parents have high expectations of me going to school, I don’t want to disappoint them but I also don’t won’t put them or myself in a financial disaster either.
Like I know in saying all of this random stuff, I’m just expressing my thoughts, because this time being Im making the biggest decision of my life.
This shit overwhelming me man 😔
Only major that caught my eye was marketing
I plan on majoring in marketing I have two options
🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨 But these are routes that I can take realistically speaking

Go to university
Go to community college
University- My admission has been approved; all I need to do is schedule meetings for registration and academic advising. The best part is that I may use my online "Texas College Bridge Certificates" to waive or excuse myself from taking the TSI exam. Even though Paying for university will be a little pricey, FASFA is the only resource I have to help with costs; I don't have any scholarships.
CC - If I attend a community college, I can be sure that my registration will be more convenient , but I can't avoid taking the TSI exam. My test results aren't great; I've taken it around three times. I think I can only retake it in the summer, and I might fail it again because I have trouble with math. It’s most likely that I fail the test again on my final try in the summer, I can still step foot in a classroom; I would just need to enroll in developmental or remedial courses. There are a lot of negative things I've heard about it; apparently, it's not fun. I've heard that it might slow your progress , and some of you people may be better knowledgeable about that stuff. Basically they’re like classes in kindergarten level shit.

What’s the best option for me or any other routes that are better. 🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨🟨

“Get the fuck out of my house with this ‘ old country’ shit Sylvia, I’m serious. “ I hear my dad say from the kitchen downstairs.
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.

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