Sister quotes for picnik

I'm most of the way through book 11 (Knife of Dreams) in my first read/listening of the series. Book 11 might be my favorite so far, except for maybe 4, the Shadow Rising.
Book 11 has had some of the best scenes in the series so far, and it's also really feeling like Tarmon Gai'don is getting closer. (I'm ready to get over Elayne's arc with the succession. 🙃)
And so, I thought I would make a list of some of my favorites of the series so far.
Past Books
-Ingtar's confession and sheathing the sword
-Mat in the red door Ter'angreal (both times)
-Mat's arc of discovering his luck in Book 3, and also him beating up Gawyn and Galad
-Rand in the rings of Rhuidean: The steps forward taking Rand back in time to find the origins of the people of the Dragon was really well done and fascinating
-Rand reveals the secret of the Aiel at Alcair Dal: This felt like a dramatic courtroom case, where Couladin denies the secrets of Rhuidean and the clan chiefs side with Rand
-Perrin's return to the Two Rivers
-Min and Siuan's escape from the Tower
-Mat failing to get Rand's attention until he calls "Lews Therin"
-Perrin talking to the wolves preceeding dumai's wells: "They have shadow slayer." "We come."
-Elayne, Nynaeve, and later Egwene in Salidar: It's cool to start to see the respective strengths of these 3 blossom as Nynaeve heal's gentling, Elayne makes Ter'angreal, and Egwene discovering traveling and more
-Morgaize relinquishing the throne to Elayne as the Seanchan take Amador
-Egwene maneuvering several Ais Sedai to swear fealty on the march to Tar'Valon
-Nynaeve reuniting with Lan AND overcoming her block: I'd been waiting for both of those things to happen for books and they happened at the same time
-Seeing the awe and fear from several points of view as chanellers around the world feel Rand and Nynaeve cleansing saidin
Book 11
-Galad challenging tricking Carridin into a trial by sword: Is Galad a prick? Definitely. But this scene was cool anyway. The white cloaks ride for Tarmen Gai'don
-Nynaeve tricking Lan and leaving him in Saldea: "[Lan Mandragoran] rides from World’s End toward Tarwin’s Gap, toward Tarmon Gai’don. Will he ride alone?" Made all the better by the backdrop of New Spring
-Perrin negotiates with the seanchan: Boy was I wrong when I thought Faile's capture would be a one book affair. But intimidating the banner general with his yellow eyes, Two Rivers archers, and the royalty and Asha'man who follow him was pretty sick.
-🌟 Egwene's imprisonment in the tower: This was easily my favorite POV in the whole series so far. The dignity of Egwene as she refuses to deny who she is and the inevitable earning of respect from the novices, accepted, and many sisters was just so cool. For those who are Sanderson fans it reminded me of Bridge 4.
Last but not least:
-"The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again.": This quote ages like fine wine, and it's my favorite part of starting new book.

Well I guess that I have to start somewhere, so why not the end! I’ve been disowned for the umpteenth time by my parents (or rather by my mum because over the years, Dad has just learned to go along with whatever she says out of duress!) This has all been as a result of my having visited them in Hay ( a 700 kilometre round trip might I add) because my Dad’s brother passed away this week and it was Mother’s Day. I thought that I’d go to show my condolences and to wish my mother and sister who also lives there a happy Mother’s Day and bring them all some hand made gifts, I’m a bit sentimental like that.
I have taken to the craft of making pebble art. The gift that I made for my mother was of an image depicting my family with my parents, my sister and I and my brother who’s passed away, as he is handing my mum a bunch of flowers. I made one for my dad depicting he and my Nan (his mother) fishing at their favourite fishing spot; my Nan passed away just last month as well and I thought it’d be a nice gesture, then I gave my sister one as well with a quote about sisters being joined by the heart.
The first day, Friday, that my husband, daughter and I came there was okay. It always is especially when I’ve not seen them for six months or more! We catch up, mum talks about her very many health conditions, she then complains a little bit about everything and everyone but it’s not over the top at this point because she and my dad are kept busy opening gifts and seemingly happy to see us! But we had decided before coming that we were going to stay in separate accommodation for the weekend with the knowledge that things with my mother usually go sour very quickly! And if we’re not having to stay at their home when it does then we can at least retain some mental stability throughout our trip! This would normally be a point in which I’d let out a bit of a chuckle or if I’m texting or writing a social media post, that I’d add the LOL at the end of that statement, simply due to the stupid realisation that unfortunately it is so very true that it’s almost comical, remembering in my mind the very many times that her very predictable unstable behaviour kicks in at around the 24 hour mark and doesn’t often dissipate until well after we’ve left if not months later! I have no clue as to why I’m still surprised by this occurrence?! Perhaps it’s because it is so unbelievably erratic and shocking to anyone that witnesses it that still even now it’s hard not only to watch unfold but to believe!
But sadly as a result of these personally flips, she lashes out in anger, she can become nasty and callous, her comments are cold and uncaring, she can become physically aggressive, and the damage done during these times can be hard to ever overcome, especially if she aims any comment or remark at you! It is during these times that you know in your soul that she has not a single care for you, not an ounce, and that the only attention or compassion shown towards you as her child or friend is one of obligation out of her need to keep up appearances with those who are still weaved in her web of “social media” deception! She wouldn’t dare lift a finger for anyone in person! But just the fact that we pre decided to obtain alternative accommodation was possibly one of the triggers I was already prepared would set her off, as we would usually choose to stay with her and dad in their spare room over crowded with belongings of the past and present, not unlike the rest of their home.
With this alone, one would see that she has an overwhelming need to retain old memories, be them bad or good. She still literally keeps every ounce of clothing I’ve ever passed on to her since well before I had children which was 27 years ago! Looking in her wardrobe, there are outfits there I remember her wearing when I was a teenager! Her bathroom still retains the $2 gifts (still in their packaging) that us kids bought for her from school Mother’s Day stalls, and the Mary Kay makeup I used to steal when I was attending high school!
Her kitchen still holds the Amway cookware she purchased for hundreds of dollars before I can remember! And to make matters worse, even some of the food in her pantry is from supermarkets no longer operating! Over the years, her hoarding has been a bit of a thorn in dad’s side, having lived a life of drifting from house to house, town to town, moving around as often as they have, having to cart it all along with them and something us kids (myself, my brother and sister) have always found funny to pick on her about, but in writing this, it is easy to see that her need to keep the past fresh in her mind and under her nose is a sickness all In itself.
Whilst we were visiting, we visited my sister in her little unit. It’s like walking back into the 70s and equally as much as a step back in time like my mother’s house! My sister has been diagnosed with schizophrenia which when first diagnosed was apparently drug induced, however; going from the lifestyle we were forced to live as the children to my parents and their lifestyle choices plus my brother and I having been diagnosed with conditions and disorders of our own, putting the puzzle pieces together as to how we’ve all accumulated mental health diagnoses isn’t that difficult taking into consideration that neither one of my parents exerted any kind of maternal instincts at all! And not even as us kids have grown and struggled through our lives, we had always been told by them that once we turned 18 we’d no longer be their “problem” anymore!
My sister’s name is Julie. She moved in with my mum and dad after one of her countless admissions to the psychiatric hospital in Bendigo, having absconded from their independent living facility which is meant to be a monitored introduction back into society after a mental health admission, but she always left before she gave the chance for them to find her accommodation that wasn’t with her abusive ex husband and 4 children.
Sitting down with her in her home, hearing all about the time she’s lived in Hay both with and near my parents, how our mum would bail her up sometimes (which had happened recently) even physically, how she’s thrown dishes at her and how she abuses her denying her food for being overweight on a daily basis… how she calls her fat and crazy… there’s literally a Myriad of abuse in all its forms being dished out to Julie, and yet, because she has nowhere else to go, like the situation my brother was in living with them on and off before he passed away (under questionable circumstances in my opinion) she has no choice but to endure it… and it saddens me to hear about it all let alone see it going on right before my eyes! Especially when the exact same denigrating comments about being useless, overweight, a waste of a life and criticism about the way she’s living her life, the choices she’s making and what she chooses to eat etc etc was also drilled into my brother by my parents and whispered to all that they spoke too for many many years before by brother lost his life.
I know through my own experience having lived with her that her poisonous mouth can lead a person to questioning your mere existence, your reason for living and remove all self esteem in a single spat with her! In 2013 I took an overdose due to a gross level of mental health issues and past trauma which I couldn’t deal with. My parents were living with us at the time and my youngest daughter exhibited some challenging behaviours… my mum found it difficult to cope with her however she made no attempt at patience or compassion and so in a fleeting moment she’s said to my daughter “if I was your mother I would’ve killed myself a long time ago!”
Wow! Just WOW! The above mentioned examples of how toxic my mother is… after only explaining to you the very tip of the iceberg in these few paragraphs, even I am second guessing writing this at all, and I’m finding it hard to fathom how I can rehash the past and get into more detail about the really bad situations! Not to mention, go into my life right from childhood until now with her and my father which is yet to come!
Writing this down, whether I share it here or not is going to be a huge journey for me that’ll take a lot of courage and open some really raw emotions… bring back old memories that I’ve suppressed and disassociated myself from… there will undoubtedly be many trigger points that I will go into which some people might become affected by, including me, but mine is a life that was, is and continues to be a challenge day in and day out… it’s something I’ve had to survive, a life and reality that I still struggle so much with but least attempt to cope with and in some way, I hope that my story will be able to shine a light on just how the importance of love, attention, affection and nurturing in our childhood really do mould the person we eventually become…

Well I guess that I have to start somewhere, so why not the end! I’ve been disowned for the umpteenth time by my parents (or rather by my mum because over the years, Dad has just learned to go along with whatever she says out of duress!) This has all been as a result of my having visited them in Hay ( a 700 kilometre round trip might I add) because my Dad’s brother passed away this week and it was Mother’s Day. I thought that I’d go to show my condolences and to wish my mother and sister who also lives there a happy Mother’s Day and bring them all some hand made gifts, I’m a bit sentimental like that.
I have taken to the craft of making pebble art. The gift that I made for my mother was of an image depicting my family with my parents, my sister and I and my brother who’s passed away, as he is handing my mum a bunch of flowers. I made one for my dad depicting he and my Nan (his mother) fishing at their favourite fishing spot; my Nan passed away just last month as well and I thought it’d be a nice gesture, then I gave my sister one as well with a quote about sisters being joined by the heart.
The first day, Friday, that my husband, daughter and I came there was okay. It always is especially when I’ve not seen them for six months or more! We catch up, mum talks about her very many health conditions, she then complains a little bit about everything and everyone but it’s not over the top at this point because she and my dad are kept busy opening gifts and seemingly happy to see us! But we had decided before coming that we were going to stay in separate accommodation for the weekend with the knowledge that things with my mother usually go sour very quickly! And if we’re not having to stay at their home when it does then we can at least retain some mental stability throughout our trip! This would normally be a point in which I’d let out a bit of a chuckle or if I’m texting or writing a social media post, that I’d add the LOL at the end of that statement, simply due to the stupid realisation that unfortunately it is so very true that it’s almost comical, remembering in my mind the very many times that her very predictable unstable behaviour kicks in at around the 24 hour mark and doesn’t often dissipate until well after we’ve left if not months later! I have no clue as to why I’m still surprised by this occurrence?! Perhaps it’s because it is so unbelievably erratic and shocking to anyone that witnesses it that still even now it’s hard not only to watch unfold but to believe!
But sadly as a result of these personally flips, she lashes out in anger, she can become nasty and callous, her comments are cold and uncaring, she can become physically aggressive, and the damage done during these times can be hard to ever overcome, especially if she aims any comment or remark at you! It is during these times that you know in your soul that she has not a single care for you, not an ounce, and that the only attention or compassion shown towards you as her child or friend is one of obligation out of her need to keep up appearances with those who are still weaved in her web of “social media” deception! She wouldn’t dare lift a finger for anyone in person! But just the fact that we pre decided to obtain alternative accommodation was possibly one of the triggers I was already prepared would set her off, as we would usually choose to stay with her and dad in their spare room over crowded with belongings of the past and present, not unlike the rest of their home.
With this alone, one would see that she has an overwhelming need to retain old memories, be them bad or good. She still literally keeps every ounce of clothing I’ve ever passed on to her since well before I had children which was 27 years ago! Looking in her wardrobe, there are outfits there I remember her wearing when I was a teenager! Her bathroom still retains the $2 gifts (still in their packaging) that us kids bought for her from school Mother’s Day stalls, and the Mary Kay makeup I used to steal when I was attending high school!
Her kitchen still holds the Amway cookware she purchased for hundreds of dollars before I can remember! And to make matters worse, even some of the food in her pantry is from supermarkets no longer operating! Over the years, her hoarding has been a bit of a thorn in dad’s side, having lived a life of drifting from house to house, town to town, moving around as often as they have, having to cart it all along with them and something us kids (myself, my brother and sister) have always found funny to pick on her about, but in writing this, it is easy to see that her need to keep the past fresh in her mind and under her nose is a sickness all In itself.
Whilst we were visiting, we visited my sister in her little unit. It’s like walking back into the 70s and equally as much as a step back in time like my mother’s house! My sister has been diagnosed with schizophrenia which when first diagnosed was apparently drug induced, however; going from the lifestyle we were forced to live as the children to my parents and their lifestyle choices plus my brother and I having been diagnosed with conditions and disorders of our own, putting the puzzle pieces together as to how we’ve all accumulated mental health diagnoses isn’t that difficult taking into consideration that neither one of my parents exerted any kind of maternal instincts at all! And not even as us kids have grown and struggled through our lives, we had always been told by them that once we turned 18 we’d no longer be their “problem” anymore!
My sister’s name is Julie. She moved in with my mum and dad after one of her countless admissions to the psychiatric hospital in Bendigo, having absconded from their independent living facility which is meant to be a monitored introduction back into society after a mental health admission, but she always left before she gave the chance for them to find her accommodation that wasn’t with her abusive ex husband and 4 children.
Sitting down with her in her home, hearing all about the time she’s lived in Hay both with and near my parents, how our mum would bail her up sometimes (which had happened recently) even physically, how she’s thrown dishes at her and how she abuses her denying her food for being overweight on a daily basis… how she calls her fat and crazy… there’s literally a Myriad of abuse in all its forms being dished out to Julie, and yet, because she has nowhere else to go, like the situation my brother was in living with them on and off before he passed away (under questionable circumstances in my opinion) she has no choice but to endure it… and it saddens me to hear about it all let alone see it going on right before my eyes! Especially when the exact same denigrating comments about being useless, overweight, a waste of a life and criticism about the way she’s living her life, the choices she’s making and what she chooses to eat etc etc was also drilled into my brother by my parents and whispered to all that they spoke too for many many years before by brother lost his life.
I know through my own experience having lived with her that her poisonous mouth can lead a person to questioning your mere existence, your reason for living and remove all self esteem in a single spat with her! In 2013 I took an overdose due to a gross level of mental health issues and past trauma which I couldn’t deal with. My parents were living with us at the time and my youngest daughter exhibited some challenging behaviours… my mum found it difficult to cope with her however she made no attempt at patience or compassion and so in a fleeting moment she’s said to my daughter “if I was your mother I would’ve killed myself a long time ago!”
Wow! Just WOW! The above mentioned examples of how toxic my mother is… after only explaining to you the very tip of the iceberg in these few paragraphs, even I am second guessing writing this at all, and I’m finding it hard to fathom how I can rehash the past and get into more detail about the really bad situations! Not to mention, go into my life right from childhood until now with her and my father which is yet to come!
Writing this down, whether I share it here or not is going to be a huge journey for me that’ll take a lot of courage and open some really raw emotions… bring back old memories that I’ve suppressed and disassociated myself from… there will undoubtedly be many trigger points that I will go into which some people might become affected by, including me, but mine is a life that was, is and continues to be a challenge day in and day out… it’s something I’ve had to survive, a life and reality that I still struggle so much with but least attempt to cope with and in some way, I hope that my story will be able to shine a light on just how the importance of love, attention, affection and nurturing in our childhood really do mould the person we eventually become…

Hi so I'm a 22 year old male and I have a twin sister C we have been close since birth and to be honest she is my best friend but recently I got into an argument with he because of a mutual idiot friend M. She has known M since middle school and I met him 2 years later (still in middle school) he has always had this big crush on C and C tried and tried to tell him she wasn't interested but eventually a year after high school she agreed to try to date him because he was relentless but when that didn't work out they agreed to be friends and that was in late 2020, but 2 or 3 years ago I hung out with him he was flirting with me and calling me cute (he's bisexual) and eventually he kissed me and naturally because I liked him I kissed back but when the kiss ended I told him I had always liked him and M said and I quote "I'm still madly in love with your sister" I've been avoiding him lately because I thought he was over her but he's not. I told C recently and i expected her to be mad at him because she is very protective of me because I'm the youngest of 3 but she said I was being dramatic and I asked her how me being hurt about this mad me dramatic and she said she didn't have time for this now I'm mad and she is confused.
so Reddit Am I The Jerk?

[I wrote this article about Macbeth for my college's newspaper, and I thought this subreddit might enjoy reading it!]
I have joked before that Shakespeare’s two favorite subjects–surpassing love, murder, madness, and crossdressing–are botany and birds. If you’ve been to New York City you might be aware of the “Shakespeare Garden” in Central Park, whose theoretical aim (though it proves nigh-impossible in practice) is to house specimens of all the plants which Shakespeare mentions in his plays. As it turns out, Bard quotes make for quite a diverse garden: there are roses which assuredly would smell as sweet by any other name; there are daffodils, that come before the swallow dares, and take the winds of March with beauty; there’s holly, heigh-ho; there’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance, there’s pansies, that’s for thoughts, there’s fennel for you, and columbines–no word on whether or not they could find any violets, though. I suppose there’s no objection to be made against those who complain that Shakespeare’s language is “flowery”; even as vicious a villain as Iago deigns to express his philosophy on life by way of botanical metaphor: “Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners.” And, of course, the plot of A Midsummer Night’s Dream revolves around a magical flower which makes people fall in love.
I doubt anyone will object to my claiming of birds as Shakespeare’s other poetical fixation: I suspect that the majority of falconry knowledge which most non-falconers have today comes from reading footnotes in their copies of Shakespeare plays, explaining exactly what Richard II means by “How high a pitch his resolution soars,” or why Hamlet says “Hillo, ho, ho” to Marcellus. But while plants are so common in Shakespeare that I don’t know of one play which we might say is especially densely forested with references to them, there is one play that stands out as particularly full of birds in comparison with the rest of the Shakespearean canon. That play is Macbeth.
This is the sort of thing that one only notices after having read a play so many times that the actual events of the plot become akin to the meter of a poem–beats which must be hit, and which start to feel so natural that one hardly notices them–and one’s attention drifts away from the big, important speeches and toward the more utilitarian words and odd little moments that bridge them. I am not the first to point it out, but it is, all the same, a delightful quirk of the play, and could be a good way for Sophomores to throw their classmates for a loop in seminar [Note: Students at our college study Macbeth during their Sophomore year.]: why are there so many birds in Macbeth?
KING. Dismay’d not this/Our captains, Macbeth and Banquo? SERG. Yes,/As sparrows eagles… -Act I, Scene II
LADY. …The raven himself is hoarse/That croaks the fatal entrance of Duncan… -Act I, Scene V
BAN. This guest of summer,/The temple-haunting martlet, does approve/By his loved mansionry, that the heaven’s breath/Smells wooingly here: no jutty, frieze/Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird/Hath made his pendent bed and procreant cradle… -Act I, Scene VI
LADY. Hark! Peace! It was the owl that shriek’d, the fatal bellman… -Act II, Scene II
LADY. I heard the owl scream and the crickets cry. -Act II, Scene II
PORTER. …come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose… -Act II, Scene III
PORTER. ‘Faith, sir, we were carousing till the second cock… -Act II, Scene III
LENNOX. New hatch’d to the woeful time: the obscure bird/Clamour’d the livelong night… -Act II, Scene III
OLD MAN. …On Tuesday last,/A falcon, towering in her pride of place,/Was by a mousing owl hawk’d at and kill’d. -Act II, Scene IV
MACBETH. …Light thickens; and the crow/Makes wing to the rooky wood… -Act III, Scene II
MACBETH. If charnel-houses and our graves must send/Those that we bury back, our monuments/Shall be the maws of kites. -Act III, Scene IV
MACBETH. Augurs and understood relations have/By magot pies and choughs and rooks brought forth/The secret’st man of blood. -Act III, Scene IV
LADY MACDUFF. …the poor wren,/the most diminutive of birds, will fight,/Her young ones in her nest, against the owl. -Act IV, Scene II
LADY MACDUFF. How will you live? SON. As birds do, mother. LADY MACDUFF. What, with worms and flies? SON. With what I get, I mean; and so do they. LADY MACDUFF. Poor bird! Thou’ldst never fear the net nor lime,/The pitfall nor the gin? SON. Why should I, mother? Poor birds they are not set for. -Act IV, Scene II
FIRST MURDERER. What, you egg! -Act IV, Scene II
MACDUFF. …there cannot be/That vulture in you… -Act IV, Scene III
MACDUFF. …O hell-kite! All?/What, all my pretty chickens and their dam/At one fell swoop? -Act IV, Scene III
MACBETH. The devil damn thee black, thou cream-faced loon!/Where got’st thou that goose look? SERVANT. There is ten thousand– MACBETH. Geese, villain? -Act V, Scene III
Above I have listed every ornithological reference that I’ve found in the Scottish Play; as we peruse them, we certainly cannot conclude that every individual reference is of the same kind, or carries the same import. I will not pretend, for example, that, just because geese and ravens are both birds, the Porter’s invitation for the imagined English tailor to cook his goose in Hell merits as much attention as Lady Macbeth’s ominous declaration that “the raven himself is hoarse”. Nor do I think that any individual reference particularly demands explication; by itself, any one of these bird-invocations seems perfectly natural. Shakespeare’s talent is such that he can repeat a motif in such a way that on the macro level it is obvious yet on the micro level it hardly feels present. But that macro level is what interests me here: what impression is created, on the whole, by the presence of so many birds in this play? I have a theory, which, though it may seem far-fetched, I think merits at least some consideration, and which, at the very least, I have not seen stated elsewhere, and so may make a novel contribution to the conversation.
Macbeth is both Shakespeare’s most supernatural tragedy and his most Sophoclean; these two superlatives are inextricably related. The appellative Weird given to the opening scene’s three Sisters–derived from the Old English wyrd, meaning destiny, and famously given its more familiar connotation by Shakespeare himself in this very play–is, among the Bard’s works, unique to Macbeth; and just as that word appears nowhere else in Shakespeare, so is the concept it represents absent in all tragedies but this one. Though Hamlet may cry out against outrageous fortune, and though Othello may rhetoricize about how no man can control his fate, it is only in Macbeth that we truly feel that the events we see play out before us are fated, predestined, inevitable. [See Note 1.] The ghost in Hamlet commands his son to revenge his foul and most unnatural murder, but does not tell him it is certain that he will succeed; indeed, would not the drama be sapped of its intrigue if that level of certainty were present? Meanwhile, the supernatural interlopers in Macbeth offer the Scottish thane not a mission, but a prophecy: All hail, Macbeth! that shalt be king hereafter! From its mystical opening word–When, not If–the Scottish play makes us aware of the certainty of all that is to befall our tragic antihero. Macbeth is thus a different sort of tragedy than Shakespeare’s others, and it works by an inverted mechanism. While the tragedy of, for example, Desdemona’s death is that it may have been prevented, the tragedy of Macbeth’s destruction is that it represents the fulfilment of fate; and this is the very same mechanism by which Oedipus Rex operates, complete with its own “Weird” character in the form of the seer Tiresias. Though Calvin managed to accept that some men are destined for greatness and others for ruin, this idea is, to Shakespeare and Sophocles, nothing short of agonizing–the stuff of tragedy.
Now: what does all of this have to do with birds? Consider these words from Antigone, spoken by Tiresias to Creon:
You shall learn, when you hear the indications of my art! As I took my place on my ancient seat for observing birds, where I can mark every bird of omen I heard a strange sound among them, since they were screeching with dire, incoherent frenzy and I knew that they were tearing each other with bloody claws, for there was a whirring of wings that made it clear… (Lloyd-Jones translation)
Consider next these words from Oedipus Tyrannus, spoken defensively by Oedipus to Tiresias:
Why, come, tell me, how can you be a true prophet? Why when the versifying hound was here did not you speak some word that could release the citizens? Indeed, her riddle was not one for the first comer to explain! It required prophetic skill, and you were exposed as having no knowledge from the birds or from the gods. No, it was I that came, Oedipus who knew nothing, and put a stop to her; I hit the mark by native wit, not by what I learned from birds. (Lloyd-Jones translation)
The practice of divining the future from birds–be it from their behaviors, their cries, or their innards–was, to Sophocles and his contemporaries, not superstitious hokum, but a practical science at which one could be skilled or unskilled, and it bodes ill for Oedipus that he is so quick to disregard it in favor of his own native wit. [See Note 2] By Shakespeare’s day, the practice had long been relegated to the realm of outdated hocus-pocus, but the Bard still saw some truth in it; in Macbeth, there is a recurring sense that, when the world is sick with some great wrong, its first symptoms manifest in the behavior of birds. When the “fatal bellman” the owl shrieks in the night, Lady Macbeth takes it as a sign that her husband is about his bloody business. The day after the murder of Duncan, as Ross converses with an Old Man about the strange things they’ve seen the previous night, “unnatural/Even as the deed that’s done”, the killing of a falcon by a mousing-owl–an omen straight out of Sophocles–is mentioned before the madness and cannibalism of Duncan’s horses, even though the latter would surely be more immediately noticeable and ghastly than the former.
These are the most obvious examples of birds as ill omens in Macbeth; yet even the more innocuous invocations of birds throughout the rest of the play continually turn our thoughts back to the ancient Greek understanding of fate and prophecy, and thereby remind us that, however savagely he may fight at Dunsinane, Macbeth’s fate is as fixed as that of Oedipus. The birds have already foretold all.
Note 1: The closest thing there is to this kind of fatalness in another Shakespearean tragedy is the several superstitious occurrences in Julius Caesar–both the soothsayer’s message of “Beware the ides of March” and the bestial portents such as the lack of a heart in an offering and the whelping of a lioness in the streets. Still, I will insist that these omens do not convey a sense of fatedness to the audience as strongly as the Weird Sisters in Macbeth by virtue of their being told to Caesar himself, not to Brutus, the play’s true protagonist, and by the fact that Shakespeare elsewhere uses dialogue to throw some doubt upon the idea of predestination: "Men at some times are masters of their fates:/The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,/But in ourselves, that we are underlings." -I.ii
Note 2: The Liddell-Scott Greek Lexicon identifies at least two separate verbs referring to bird-based divination, both of which are present in the quoted passages: Tiresias uses ορνϊθοσκοπέομαι, observe birds, interpret their flight and cries, while Oedipus uses οιωνίζομαι, take omens from the flight and cries of birds. The latter term comes from οιωνος, a large bird, bird of prey, such as a vulture or eagle, and so distinguished from a common bird, while the former comes from ορνις, which more generally refers to a bird, including birds of prey and domestic fowls. Birds of both kinds are present in Macbeth; there are οιωναι, such as the “falcon, towering in her pride of place”, as well as ορνες, like the Porter’s goose and cock. I therefore see little value in interrogating the kinds of birds invoked by Shakespeare, the specific cultural associations and significance of the owl, the raven, or the wren; rather, if we reduce them down to their barest existence as birds, animals of the class Aves, and consider them in an ancient Greek light, then things become a bit clearer.

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

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

I (F) have a best friend (F), basically wayyyy before me and my female girl best friend met I had a guy best friend.
When I met my gbsf (we’re gonna call her Lana and we’re gonna call her ex Alex) when I met Lana I was already best friends with Alex eventually Lana and Alex liked each other and ofc they told me they liked the other.
Lana told me she liked Alex and Alex told me he liked Lana so without selling the other out to them I got them together everything was perfect for 8 months until they started arguing, they would ask for my opinion and I opted to stay out of it. (Cause they’re both my bsfs tf I supposed to help you w?)
When they broke up it was so messy, tears, fighting,screaming, petty remarks , rumors, Lana threw milk on Alex at one point (just acting like children)
Anyways, recently it was Alex’s birthday I posted on my Snapchat “Happy birthday ”Alex” you’re a good friend and I’m grateful for you “ I said happy birthday because for my birthday he got me presents and said happy birthday to me I’m obviously gonna have fucking manners and be cordial?
Whatever whatever said happy birthday he said thank you, later in the day Lana swipes up Saying “crazy.” I said “I’m sorry, are you upset ?” She said “Ian even mad ts js weird you told me he was flirting with you and now you’re writing paragraphs about him?”
FIRSTLY, after they broke up he would try to flirt with me but I told him to shut it down and it makes me uncomfortable and he stopped and ofc I told her (that’s my bsf fuck?) but I’m sorry paragraphs about him? Baby I wrote 3 SENTENCE WORTH I WROTE 12 WORDS. And one of those words was tagging him.
Anyways she called me weird and said she wasn’t mad she was js finding it weird, but then Lana’s little sister texted me saying “why are you fucking writing paragraphs about him when yk how badly he hurt Lana” first of all it was 12 fucking words..I told her “it was a couple words he got me stuff and said happy birthday on my birthday all I said was happy birthday I don’t get the issue with this ?”
Lana’s little sister proceeded to ridicule me (she’s in 5th grade I’m not finna argue w a child 😂😂😂) and I js said okay, when this all started and Lana texted me she told me I sajd “I love you “ to him but I never did that was another girl so, what? Anyways our texts went like this
Me - “ Then I don’t remember saying I love you to him but on some real shit I’m sorry if I upset you n shit I would be mad too ik you deserve better n I rlly don’t wanna fight w you abt smth like this n I get where you’re coming from 100% you’re absolutely right n shi n honestly I’m sorry about making you feel like that I’m glad you told me and I’ll work to fix it At the end of the day you’re my bsf n I consider you a sister to me n you have every right to be mad I’ll give you space n shit to js think n be alone “
Lana - “okay well that’s still fucking weird”
Now here’s we’re I’m upset about, Lana is BEST FRIENDS WITH MY FUCKING EX.
My ex cheated on me, abused me, played w my feelings, barely committed to me, spread rumors about me etc. but Everytime he tries talking to her or play fighting her she play fights back or gets all giggly and laughs.
You’re mad at me for saying happy birthday but you wanna be friendly to someone who genuinely hurt me, I’m not saying he didn’t hurt her but I know everything that happened and I’m not finna put my homegirls business out there cause she still my day 1 idgaf but the beef was miscommunication over him play fighting girls.
I get you could be going through it but you not finna sit in my face and say I’m fucked up when you over here having Kumbaya moments.
Anyways sorry this js long but I genuinely love this girl I’ll take any advice or opinions you guys can give me I don’t wanna loose this girl I just can’t loose her she was with me when a loved one committed suicide she was with me when my dog died she’s been through it all with me
AITAH?
Edit 1 - I took someone’s advice and I told her she can’t control who I’m talking to but I understand why she wouldn’t like it I told her I’m uncomfortable with her being friends with my ex she proceeded to say im flipping the situation to make me look like the victim and lately she thinks I’m acting shady, weird and stuff I do is starting tk annoy her
For example she told me that when they broke up she thought I would have taken her side and completely cut him off she said she felt betrayed and that I was flirting with him because he doesn’t bring lunches to school (we’re juniors in high school) so I always offer some of my food (I always bring an extra yogurt or sandwhich or whatever I made that day because I know he’s gonna be hungry) and when I gave him my food she thought it was my “excuse to talk to him” I told her that’s ridiculous and I’d never let someone to hungry especially if I have extra food
I’ve been looking at her reposts on TikTok (yes I’m a stalker I js missssss my girlllll ) and she’s been reposting a bunch of stuff saying “these females doing me wrong” or js shit that says she got betrayed, when I made this post I was angry and needed to vent I worked out took my dog for a walk and now that I’m calm I’m not angry with her I’m just anxious she’s gonna end our friendship and I still don’t see the issue with me wishing someone a happy birthday I told her I was truly just trying to be cordial with him and that if nothing was going on between me and him before they dated nothings going to happen now ESPECIALLY if that’s her ex.
Plus Me and “Alex’s” friend (we’ll call him Leo) have been going on dates lately (dinners, picnics, watching movies at the others house, our families throwing like pool backyard stuff and inviting the other, etc ) so there’s quite literally nothing there between me and “Alex” “Leo”is a sweetheart and exactly my type “Alex” is the bipolar opposite of Leo but the two are best friends I told lana this and she said she wanted time and she didn’t know if she wanted to end the friendship with me because she quote on quote “Doesn’t know if she can trust me” and “doesn’t wanna interact with a potential snake”
She called me a potential snake..
I have no hard feelings towards Lana I’ve never been one to get hurt by words I just wanna let her get all her anger out she started getting disrespectful and I put my foot down and told her
“I know you’re angry but you have no fucking right to disrespect me when I’ve been nothing but logical and understanding with you I’ve tried getting your point and I’m sorry I caused you to hurt I really am but you can’t seem to calm down and be reasonable so please stop blowing my phone up and please only talk to me when you’re open to a logical unbiased conversation”
And I left it with that (I’ll fs give more updates)

This is a hell of a book i ain’t gonna lie that hit a lot.
The maturity of the MMC going through that trauma and taking healthy steps together and by themselves was actually somewhat refreshing and felt realistic.
The main thing that really got me tho was the lack of empathy about Dean’s mental state/sexual intimacy from Mandy. That genuinely broke my heart when she said “I thought you’d be all over me after six weeks.” He just watched your sister get raped for three weeks of those six (yes!! U read that right she expected sex three weeks after they got out of the basement!!!) and he killed a guy????? Like quote for quote “bounce back” was used.
Also she tried to hook up Cora (her sister FMC) with a guy after those three weeks?? Go to hell
I truly wish Mandy had had a cold revelation of how she had treated him. After that I was like fuck this girl Cora Dean you don’t need to feel guilty for anything from now on.
Dean you were great sweetie

for a pathetic 30 usd per share !! show me the REAL PRICE !!
you guys can remember that partial shares were sold for over 2500 usd each in darkpool?
they buy the shares in darkpool and sell them in lit exchanges.
the loss they realize is heavy but still nothing compared to the REAL losses..
only that you know what they were ready to pay back then!!
now that GME is over 30 i hope my brothers and sisters here DIAMOND HAND and double down !!
the game is still not over. at best team GME shareholder is now in lead .
a group of sophisticated people. not APES like they love to call us . they are the apes for thinking we are stupid enough to fall for their stupid article sh*tting about the company.
if your shocked about today... next week 240.000 contracts are ripe and if the holder are smart, they FORCE buy those shares and the market maker needs to deliver 24.000.000 shares..
i want to quote MR thomas peterffy( founder of ibkr) : if the share holder keep called the shares, the price would be in the THOUSANDS !!! so he KNEW those calls were sold UNHEDGED .
or why do you guys think the last 3 years after OPEX at 5/25/2021 and 5/25/2022 the t+2 of OPEX , the stock suddently goes up 20+% ? this time they have to buy them back too.. only this time the ammount of ITM option is 10x bigger . last week only 3.7m shares were itm think about next week guys. IM SO FCKING JACKED
that was 3 years ago. so do not let them out for CHEAP.
there will NEVER be another chance like this again!!
thats why i bought today another 500 shares( at 28.6). i will do it again when the price is higher. if all shareholders buy the high and NOT wait for a dip, there wont be a dip because you buy away the shares away which the shorts need . THEY NEED IT DESPERATELY. Help fuel the rocket ship guys. make the moves even more violent.
it is not retail investors against big institutions.. its BIG INSTITUTIONS & RETAIL & RC & DFV against a small group of hedgefcks and kenny G
todays price action was a first sign of weakness of the hedgefunds betting against GME. because the smart ones leaving the sinking ship knowing next week the stupid ones need to hold the bag .

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(This is long so ill put a TLDR at the bottom) I (18f) and my mom never really got along. I figured it was just a not see eye to eye thing and we were just different but on Saturday she told me she didnt care i was trying to do something to get my education complete when i told her i needed her to sign some paper (which she ended up doing anyway) because the director didnt contact her (i didnt know he didnt contact them even after i told him i needed him to)
We argued, i cried, and we ended up going to do what we needed to do
At some point we stopped and my step dad went into a gas station and while i was in the backseat my mom looked to another woman who has only daughters (couldve also been their little sisters idk why its my moms business) and she said and i quote: "damn! She has all girls? Ick."
Im my moms only daughter.
I have two older brothers and while she had expressed she didnt plan on having a daughter i kinda just see its probably a reason me and her dont get along but i couldnt help but start crying in the backseat
This morning my friend called me and asked about my mothers day and what i did and i told them the truth. I didnt even talk to my mom that much and didnt even wish her a happy mother's day then explained why. They told me i was a petty, sensitive, jerk for that because its just my moms preference to not have all girls. Even after explaining i think its horrible to say that alone in your car with your only daughter but they said i shouldve just let it go.
I never got a chance to be feminine growing up was always a tomboy and now i feel singled out like i did as a kid because i simply wanted to kinda fit in with my brothers and it was hard when you wanted to be uber girly but it seems to be causing my distress not being myself.
I think what she said is wrong but is not making her mother day special any worse? She seems to prefer my brothers anyway so why would i? She can spend it with them but my friend is kinda getting to me cuz he insist im in the wrong but i dont even think my mom noticed.
TLDR: my mom called a woman with only daughters gross when alone in the car with me so i didnt do anything for mothers day and now my friend thinks im a jerk
So, AITA?

Information

• Prices are in USD
• US shipping: $7 USD, includes tracking
• Canada shipping: $1 USD for letter mail (no tracking), $8 USD for larger packets with tracking
• International shipping: $8 USD. Does not include tracking, but can get a quote if you'd like it
• From a smoke-free, cat-friendly home
• Payment by PayPal G&S (I will send an invoice)
• All items used two times or less just to test/swatch, unless noted
• Open to bundle deals and reasonable offers

The Goods

• Spreadsheet here with full details including notes

Alkemia
Full size

• Aurora - 5ml roller, $14
• Confectionaire - 5ml roller, $14
• Rondeaux d'Amour - 5ml roller, $14
• Veneficium - 5ml roller, $14

Samples

• Book of Shadows - 1ml sample, $2
• Hellcat - 1ml sample, $2
• The Highwayman - 1ml sample, $2

Arcana Wildcraft
Samples

• John Dee - 1.25ml sample, $3
• Yggdrasil - 1.25ml sample, $3

Black Baccara/Amorphous
Full size

• 90s Goth NYC - 5ml bottle, $18
• Boardwalk 1990 - 5ml bottle, $18
• Witch's Veil - 5ml bottle, $18

Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab (BPAL)
Full size

• Krampus (Yule 2023) - 5ml bottle, $20
• The Poinsettia Gown (Yule 2023) - 5ml bottle, wand cap added, $20
• Witches' Currant Cake (Halloween 2023) - 5ml bottle, wand cap added, $20

Samples and Ajevie decants

• Arachnina the Spider Girl (Carnaval Diabolique) - 0.92ml Ajevie sample, $5
• Blood Garden (Carnaval Diabolique) - 0.92ml Ajevie sample, $5
• Frankincense, Bourbon Vanilla and Hazelnut (Menage a Trois) - 0.74ml Ajevie sample, $4
• Rose Moon 2023 - 0.74ml Ajevie sample, $4
• Fancy Pups (Lupercalia 2024) - 0.5ml Ajevie sample, $3
• Hair Loosened and Soiled in Mid-Orgies (Lupercalias 2024) - 0.5ml Ajevie sample, $3
• Implacable Beautiful Tyrant (Lupercalia 2024) - 0.5ml Ajevie sample, $3
• O Daughter of Death and Priapus (Lupercalia 2024) - 0.5ml Ajevie sample, $3
• Sister Death (Lupercalia 2024) - 0.5ml Ajevie sample, $3
• There Yet Shall Be Sorrows (Lupercalia 2024) - 0.5ml Ajevie sample, $3
• Womb Furie - 0.5ml Ajevie sample, $3 PENDING
• Aperotos Eros - Imp, $2
• Bruised Violet Compound - Imp, $2
• Centzon Totochtin - Imp, $2
• Dance of Death - Imp, $2
• Defututa - Imp, $2
• High John the Conqueror - Imp, $2
• Iago - Imp, $2
• Kabuki - Imp, $2
• Mage - Imp, $2
• Old Demons of the First Class - Imp, $2
• Paris - Imp, $2
• Shub-Niggurath - Imp, $2

Death and Floral
Full size

• Doom and Gloom - 5ml roller, $12

Samples and Ajevie decants

• Hallows' Eve Museum Heist - 0.74ml Ajevie sample, $2
• Plastic Pumpkin Bucket - 0.74ml Ajevie sample, $2

Deconstructing Eden (Shipping within Canada only)
Samples

• Morrigan - 2.5ml sample, $4
• Violaceum #4 - 2.5ml sample, $4

Hexennacht
Samples

• Lipstick Accord - 0.74ml Ajevie sample, $2

Nocturne Alchemy (NAVA)
Full size

• Achilles - 5ml bottle, $18
• Neon Vampire - 5ml bottle, $18

Samples and Ajevie decants

• Dracula - 2ml sample, $5
• Faust - 2ml sample, $5
• Riven - 2ml sample, $5
• Salem - 2ml sample, $5
• Conjuring With the Witch - 0.74ml Ajevie sample, $3

Nui Cobalt
Full size and partials

• Aphrodite Nikephoros - 5ml bottle, $16
• At Your Command - 5ml bottle, $16
• Au Bal Masque - 5ml bottle, $16
• Exsanguinated - 5ml bottle, $16
• Long Shadows - 4ml partial in original bottle, $15
• Sword and Shield - 3.5ml partial in original bottle, $12

Samples

• Achievement Unlocked - 1ml sample, $3
• Aphrodite Chrysea - 1ml sample, $3
• Aphrodite Peitho - 1ml sample, $3
• Dwarven Fortitude - 1ml sample, $3
• Lycanthrope - 1ml sample, $3
• Shadow Touched - 1ml sample, $3
• Tall Dark Stranger - 1ml sample, $3

Pineward (Shipping within Canada only)
Samples

• Caravansary - 1.8ml sample, $4
• Revelries - 1.8ml sample, $4
• White Fir - 1.8ml sample, $4
• Iceflow - Mini sample, free with purchase

Poesie
Samples

• Awakening - 2ml sample bottle, $5
• Forest Cat - 1.15ml sample, $3
• La Vie En Rose - 1.15ml sample, $3

Possets
Full size

• Silver Leather - 6ml bottle, $16
• Silver Vanilla - 6ml bottle, $16

Samples and Ajevie decants

• Bar Sinister - 0.74ml sample, $2
• Churpz rev. 1 - 0.74ml sample, $2
• Field of Reeds Perfume Oil - 0.74ml sample, $2
• Hera - 0.74ml sample, $2
• JFK and Jackie - 0.74ml Ajevie sample, $2
• Morgan Le Fay - 0.74ml sample, $2
• Nefertiti and Akhenaten - 0.74ml sample, $2
• Silver Pomegranate - 0.74ml Ajevie sample, $2
• Wraith - 0.74ml sample, $2

Pulp Fragrance
Full size

• I've Written A Letter to Daddy - 4.5ml roller

Samples

• And to All a Good Night - 0.74ml sample, $3
• Ready For My Close-Up - 0.74ml sample, $3

Solstice Scents
Full size

• Upstairs Window - 5ml roller, $16 (Shipping within Canada only)

Samples

• Winslow's - 0.74ml sample, $2

Sorcellerie Apothecary
Samples

• The Ghost Wants Birthday Cake - 1ml sample, $3
• Something Wicked - 0.74ml Ajevie sample, $3

Thin Wild Mercury (Shipping within Canada only)
Samples

• 34 Bohemian Cafes - 2ml edp sample, $6
• Chateau 1970 - 2ml edp sample, $6

Venus Invictus
Samples

• Dionysus - 2ml edp sample, $5 (Shipping within Canada only)
• Eros - 2ml edp sample, $5 (Shipping within Canada only)
• Hekate - 2ml edp sample, $5 (Shipping within Canada only)
• Kthonia - 2ml edp sample, $5 (Shipping within Canada only)
• Pothos - 2ml edp sample, $5 (Shipping within Canada only)
• Sapphic Hymn - 1ml sample roller, $4
• Three Graces - 1ml sample roller, $4

Makeup

• Rituel de Fille Stellaris Rare Light Luminizer, $20
• Rituel de Fille Flora Ash and Ember Eye Soot, $20

Thanks for looking!

I have been thinking about Genshin and its inspiration from Gnosticism for a while, especially ever since we got Neuvillette and his character stories. In particular, the line in his Vision story, “And when one so gifted completed their duty... the gift the gods would receive in return would be more abundant still,” has really piqued my interest. Particularly, what is it that the Heavenly Principles gain from Vision wielders? I think I may have figured out a potential answer based on Gnostic beliefs and cosmology.
For those who may not know about Gnosticism, it was an ancient Christianity that focused on the belief that the god who created the material world was actually an evil, false god and that the true god existed in a perfect realm beyond the heavens. Different sects of Gnostics would have wildly different beliefs, but certain themes tend to continuously appear in their cosmologies. Our most complete collection of their texts come from the Nag Hammadi Library, and that is where much of the popular stories of Gnostic beliefs come from, and thus the most likely place Mihoyo would pull from for inspiration. So I will try to summarize my understanding of the creation story, because it’s important to my theory.
In the beginning there was the Monad, and the Monad created emanations from itself called Aeons. Aeons were created in pairs representing the masculine and the feminine, and together these pairs would create more emanations of Aeons, which were also born in pairs. The exact number can vary wildly, but eventually we get the furthest out Aeons of Sophia and Christ. Sophia chose to create a new emanation without her partner, and it goes terribly. The being born is a horrific, malformed existence that cleaves a segment of Sophia’s divinity from her, gravely wounding her. The Monad casts this being out of the divine realm. This being is called the Demiurge, and it is angered at being cast out of the divine realm. So it creates the material world in an attempt to prove its own divinity. It creates the archons, the firmament, the cosmos, etc. before it finally decides to create humans whose sole purpose would be to worship the Demiurge and feed its ego. The problem for the Demiurge when it creates Adam, though, is that the Demiurge doesn’t know how to imbue the body with life.
The Aeons see this and take the chance to begin enacting Sophia’s redemption. They convince the Demiurge to breathe the Breath of Life into Adam. When the Demiurge does this, it unwittingly divests the divine power it took from Sophia into Adam. Unable to take the power back, the Demiurge resolves to cloud humanity’s minds so that they never learn their true divine origins. The goal of Gnosticism is to attune to the divine spark within yourself through introspection and self-actualization. Doing so will grant you gnosis, which is the secret divine knowledge that will allow you to escape the material world upon death and return to the divine realm.
So what does this all have to do with Genshin? Potentially a lot. For those who just want the broad strokes, the TL;DR is:

• Nibelung is Genshin’s Monad
• The Heavenly Principles are Genshin’s Demiurge
• Nibelung's Authority powered the Loom of Fate
• The divine spark within humanity is Nibelung’s Authority
• Nibelung shattered his Authority and spread it to the humans during the War of Vengeance, potentially as a final “fuck you” to the Heavenly Principles
• Visions are given to humans that can obtain this Authority, and if they manage to fulfill their wishes, they ascend to Celestia and have Nibelung’s Authority stripped from them
• The Gnoses are small Oratrices that gather their nation’s faith into energy to power the Loom of Fate for Celestia

So let’s start at the top. How can Nibelung be considered Genshin’s equivalent of the Monad? My reason stems from the high likelihood that Nibelung is the Sovereign of the Light element, which we have numerous hints towards its existence throughout the game. The realm that all elemental life forms stem from is called the “Light Realm,” the Colors of the Rainbow namecard description likens the elements to the way colors are refractions from light, and the Travelers are implied to also control the Light element, and that this is why they are element compatible. I also believe that Light as an element is likely just another name for the Imaginary element that exists throughout the rest of the Honkaiverse, which we know Genshin is a part of. If Nibelung is the Light Sovereign, it would explain why the other Seven Sovereigns bow to him as the Dragon King, because it would take all Seven Sovereigns to match Nibelung’s power. The Colors of the Rainbow namecard description also offers us a new way to interpret the relation between Nibelung and the other sovereigns. Colors are refractions of light, and another way you could think of a refraction is as an emanation. Thus, if Nibelung holds the Light Authority, then the other Sovereigns' Authorities emanate from Nibelung’s Authority. This forms a pretty clear parallel with the Monad and its Aeons. Therefore, we can assume Nibelung is Genshin’s Monad equivalent.
If Nibelung is the Monad, then it makes sense for his greatest enemy to represent the Demiurge. But aside from their antagonism towards the Dragons, the Heavenly Principles share other parallels with the Demiurge. For starters, the Heavenly Principles formed the world of Teyvat from the Light Realm, similar to how the Demiurge created the material world. On top of that, the Heavenly Principles created the position of Archon and gifted them their stolen Authority just as the Demiurge created their Archons using their stolen divine power. And to top it all off, just as the Demiurge cleaved its bit of divine power from an emanation of the Monad, the Heavenly Principles had to steal the authorities of the Sovereigns to even be able to begin the reshaping of the world. All in all, I believe the case for the Heavenly Principles being the Demiurge is fairly self-evident by this point in Genshin’s story.
In a recent video ( https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yKq6E3o5jsA ), Ashikai theorized that the Loom of Fate is an actual machine created and utilized by the Heavenly Principles to control Teyvat, powered by the remains of Nibelung. I am inclined to agree with this, and I believe that most likely the Loom of Fate is powered by Nibelung’s Light Authority, which we perhaps could also call “absolute authority.” The same “absolute authority” mentioned in Neuvillette’s Vision story that could no longer suppress the loathing of the world.
From Neuvilette’s Vision story, we know that Visions were created as a result of the War of Vengeance, when Nibelung returned to Teyvat with Forbidden Knowledge, hellbent on destroying the Heavenly Principles. In the midst of this war, the “functions” of the Heavenly Principles were ruined, and I believe this is in reference to the Loom of Fate. In Ashikai’s video, she theorizes that the Genesis Pearl from the Battle Pass cutscene is essentially representative of Nibelung’s Authority, and that it disappeared during the invasion of the Second Descender.
While I agree with the idea that the Genesis Pearl is in reference to Nibelung’s Authority, I disagree with the Second Descender being responsible for its disappearance. Neuvillette’s Vision story is very clear that the War of Vengeance was what caused the Heavenly Principles to lose the use of their functions, which I am assuming is in reference to the Loom of Fate. That same story also tells us that this event is what caused the Heavenly Principles to enact the Vision system and the Archons. The exact quote being, “And when one so gifted completed their duty... the gift the gods would receive in return would be more abundant still.” What could the Heavenly Principles gain from humans who achieve their ambitions?
Returning to Gnosticism, humans contain a fragment of divinity within themselves, and the key to attuning yourself to it is self-actualization. What does every Vision wielder have in common? They are all very close to achieving self-actualization! When one reaches that moment of self-actualization in Gnosticism, they gain their gnosis. So what does a Vision wielder gain in a similar moment? What is this gnosis in Genshin, because I do not believe the Gnoses owned by the Archons represent the same gnosis. This is where I’m going to begin some speculation based on what I believe are the likely motivations of Nibelung and the Heavenly Principles.
When Nibelung returned and began the War of Vengeance, I believe he went straight to Celestia to confront the Heavenly Principles. I believe he wanted to regain his Authority and restore himself to his full dragonhood. But, I believe he was unable to fully overcome the Heavenly Principles. Perhaps the War of Vengeance happened after the Second Descender invaded and subsequently aligned themselves with the Heavenly Principles, or perhaps the Abyssal power Nibelung leveraged was eating away at Nibelung faster than he could fight. Either way, I think Nibelung ended up in a position where he recognized he would be unable to get exactly what he wanted, but he was determined to not let the Heavenly Principles have a total victory. So, in a last ditch effort, he took his former Light Authority that was currently powering the Loom of Fate and shattered it, casting it out of Celestia and spreading its fragments among the humans below. Though he didn’t restore his dragonhood, he did get his revenge, and the Heavenly Principles are left to scramble and try to restore their now broken Loom of Fate.
The Heavenly Principles need to reforge the Light Authority to truly get the Loom working again, but how do they do this? The key, I believe, is human ambition. Ambition can lead you towards self-actualization, and as I’ve said, that is the key to obtaining gnosis in Gnosticism. Therefore, if you encourage humans to chase their ambitions, there will be those who will have the willpower to actually stand a chance of achieving them, and thus obtain gnosis. And if the Light Authority is Genshin’s gnosis, then obtaining ambition can grant you a fragment of this authority. So what if the Heavenly Principles create an exchange? A contract, if you will. And the terms are simple: the Heavenly Principles will give a fragment of their elemental authority to any mortal whose ambitions resonate with Nibelung’s Authority. In exchange, should the human achieve their ambition, and thus tangibly obtain a sliver of Nibelung’s Authority, they must surrender that Authority back to the Heavenly Principles.
In the meantime, though, the Loom still needs to be powered. That’s where the Archons and their Gnoses come into play. We know that faith is how the Archons obtain their power, and from the Oratrice, we can see that such faith can generate vast amounts of energy. I think the Gnoses act as pocket Oratrices, collecting the faith the people have in their gods and generating power from it, aspecting said power to the given Archon’s element and delivering it to Celestia, where the 7 elemental energies are used as a substitute for Light/Imaginary energy to power the Loom of Fate. So why make the gods kill each other in the Archon War? To stop competition from arising. In our own world, conflicts between nations arise over land and resources already, add God nukes to the equation and it becomes a recipe for disaster. The Heavenly Principles needed the world to be amenable to humans and their ambitions for the Vision system to work, and I believe that’s the criteria by which they chose the Seven Archons. I don’t believe the Heavenly Principles chose their Archons based on who had the best intentions for humanity. I believe they selected them based on whether their vision would encourage mortal ambition, which in turn would generate more Vision bearers and thus more candidates for obtaining Nibelung’s scattered Authority, making the process as fast and efficient as possible.
I recognize that there are likely plenty of issues with my thinking. Particularly, the entire timeline of all this makes no sense, because Apep's dialogue indicates the War of Vengeance was way back in time, potentially even being the invasion of the Second Descender, but Neuvillette's Vision story makes a clear relation between the War of Vengeance and the creation of Visions. Perhaps Visions have existed since before the Archon War? But then that begs the question of how the Heavenly Principles kept the Loom running in the meantime, if at all... And then there's the Moon Sisters and the Third Descenders! There is still so much information that we don't have, but I really wanted to share these thoughts I had.

I 22F graduated college in December 2023 with a B.S in Animal Science. Right now, I'm working as a product evaluation tech, pulling in $17 an hour. Recently, I got a small raise of 2 cents. My car broke down, and as a first-time car buyer, I ended up financing a used 2021 Honda Civic for 72 months with an APR of 21%, resulting in a monthly payments of $394.40. I'm exploring options to refinance to hopefully lower my APR and monthly payment. Additionally, I'm on the hunt for car insurance, but the initial quote from Progressive was steep—around $400. I've been in two car accidents previously, in October 2019 and May 2021, which might be impacting the quotes.
My sister has been covering my phone bill, but since I got a new phone, I'm planning to start paying my share, which I believe is around $40. I have a credit card with a limit of $700, but I try not to exceed $400, with an absolute max of $500. I use it primarily for gas ($40 a week), groceries ($100 a week), and personal expenses, including dates with my boyfriend, which could be around $200 a week. The only subscriptions I pay for are Spotify ($15) and Apple (99 cents).
My boyfriend helped me create this budget, but I feel like there might be room to trim expenses or optimize it further to save more. Moreover, I'm keen on leveraging my degree more effectively. While I enjoy my current job, it leans more towards food science, and I feel like I'm lagging behind in terms of career advancement opportunities. Also, my parents have been subtly suggesting that it's time for me to move out, so that's another aspect I'm considering or pay rent which I am unsure how much they will charge.

To start off with, I need to give some background. My main family consists of me, my mother, my father, and my (half) sister-who is very mentally disabled, best described as "Angelman Syndrome". My father is a pretty normal guy, and I am very thankful for him. My sister is mentally disabled, and she can't really live her life, so I try to give her the best one. My mom has always been somewhat entitled, but she is VERY mentally unwell.
My mother and father have been divorced for as long as I can remember. One night he came home to her being drunk, and when trying to help her, she called the cops on him for some reason, and told the cops that he was abusing her, hitting her, the whole ordeal, and unfortuantely for my father, the cops that showed up were IDIOTS, believing my mother immediately without even letting my father speak. Dad spent the night is prison that evening. My father could've just accepted the punishment he was given, but here's the thing, at the time this happened, my mother was pregnant with me, and he knew she would try and keep me after the divorce they were planning, and if he had been arrested for abusing his wife, it wouldn't go so well when he tried to have some custody over me. So he didn't accept that punishment, and fought in court for this false accusation against him.
One night nearing the end of the court case, my mother called him to try and manipulate my father into just "giving up, and that the court would believe a woman over him." My father then said back, and I quote: "I will be penniless and living on the street before I allow that boy to be living with you for his entire life. I won't be giving this up." and then hung up in her face, After years of fighting, he finally won the court over and cleared his name, and after I was born, divorced my mother, and the court allowed equal custody over me. (Despite this, my mother did try to steal me and move away when I was two years old, but thankfully for me and my dad, my mother's side of the family are really good people, and when she tried to move in with them for a short while, far out of town, they called my father immediately without a second thought).
This story offically begins back when I was very little, specifically 6-7 years old. This is the year that my sister was born. It is worth mentioning that my sister is not my father's child, I don't know most of the details, but I'm fairly certain she was an "accidental" pregnancy. Anyway, for my entire life, my mother was kind of awful at being a mother. Making me, a child, take care of a disabled baby for the entire day, including the food procedure (which I'm not even going to go into, lets just say it requires a certain machine.) yelling at me constantly, then apologizing later. I always accepted these apologies, because she is really good at making me feel guilty. These yellings included when I was trying to go to sleep, and then actually making me get up and do work whenever she was angry with me. I don't even remember most of the reasons, because I heard so many rants that I eventually learned to ignore them.
All in all, she was never the best mother, but she doesn't hate me, far from it. I do know she does care about me, and thats honestly the annoying part. Anyway, my mother doesn't have a job, so she was living off the money my father was sending her to take care of ME, and the money she got from the government for my sister, since she was heavily disabled. Because of this, whoever is taking care of my sister IS getting money to take care of her. (Keep this in mind, its important later). This also eventually applied to me, as I was diagnosed with ADHD among other things at a young age, and my mother was happy when I got diagnosed. (Gee, I wonder why).
Eventually, my mother had to accept that she couldn't keep taking care of my sister, (EVEN THOUGH I WAS THE ONE DOING IT AT ALL TIMES EXCEPT WHEN I WAS AT SCHOOL OR MY FATHER'S) so she got someone to take care of her, a very nice woman and husband. (We'll call them nice wife and husband for simplicity). My sister lived with them for a few years, and my life was going uphill. I still visited her every day available, since the nice couple lived relatively close to my mother's house. Eventually, the nice couple started considering adopting my sister. Even though she was a little troublemaker and a crybaby, they loved her just as much, if not more than I did. However, whoever is taking care of my sister gets money handed to them, which is enough to take care of her needs and more. And if the nice husband and wife adopted her, they would then keep getting that money for the rest of time.
So my mother immediately took my sister back, and manipulated me into thinking that they were "bad guys who were trying to take my sister away." I hate to admit it, but if not for my father, I would have ended up like an entitled brat, because I believed everything she said as a child, and this was no exception. I deleted their contact info, spoke badly about them, and were angry to them. I heavily regret this after learning the truth, and really wish I could apologize.
So, with my sister now back in my mother's house, my mom (THANKFULLY) hired a group of social workers, basically multiple babysitters. They would be there every morning, from 9am to 11pm, except on Friday evenings and Saturdays. But honestly, while they did take good care of my sister during the day, my sleep schedule didn't change much, because since I cared about my sister and my mother, I took it upon myself to constantly wake up during the night to fix her machine whenever it stopped. Not a good idea for a young child to do that, but I cared and loved my sister, while also feeling pity for my mother. (Also, she never woke up to do it, so I felt like I had to).
My father later described me when he came to pick me up on Saturday afternoons as: "if anger could be a person" and honestly, he's right about that. Not having a good sleep, having to take care of my disabled sister who always cried, while listening to my mother always yell at me, while stressed about schoolwork didn't make me any happier. Apparently there were a few days where my father actually saw me shaking with rage. (I find that funny, but I probably shouldn't lol)
Around the time Covid was starting up, my mother's house caught on fire. I don't remember the exact details, its all a blur now, especially considering I was the one who noticed it, and got everyone out at about 3am in the morning. It was either due to wiring or a candle/paper. Luckily, no one was hurt, no one died, and my dog was fine too. (The fire/smoke did eventually lead to him dying a year later though... lung cancer) the only thing really lost was a lot of clothing and my mother's bed, not a huge loss. Anyway, since Covid was started up, we lived in a leased-out home for the duration of it. Not too bad, pretty big, quiet neighbourhood.
For the duration of Covid, it was back to me, and me alone taking care of my sister for a year or so. (Social distancing and all). Trapped in a house yet again with my mother yelling, my sister crying, and me losing my mind. My mother's mental health wasn't getting any better as time went on either, causing her to have... certain delusions. One of these included when the social workers were allowed to come back and help out, when Covid restrictions started to lift, one of them ended up hurting her back when carrying my sister, and my mother blamed me for some reason.
It took a while, no thanks to Covid, but eventually, my mother's house was fixed thanks to insurance. My mother was having certain delusions at this time, her mental wellness at an all-time-low. She eventually started hallucinating, but never spoke about it, and had the delusion that people were living in the attic. She called me in and handed me her phone, telling me to be ready to dial 911 while she went up to check. I didn't think much of it, other than telling her that no one was there and to calm down. I guess I didn't tell her that enough.
On just another morning, I woke up at my father's house, and headed downstairs to get breakfast ready. My father was already there, with a look I'd never seen on him before, He then informed me that my mother's house had burned down AGAIN, except this time, it WAS on purpose. My mother had apparently set a fire in the living room, trying to "smoke out" the people she thought was in the attic. Thankfully, it happened on a Friday night, so there was no worker there, but my sister WAS there, sleeping soundly. Thankfully, instead of killing herself and my sister, my mother actually got her out of there. They were both fine, but at this point, 85% of ALL my stuff was now gone for good. I was thankful my sister and mother were ok, but I now did not trust my mother, both for almost killing my sister, and for destroying all of my memories/keepsakes from my entire life, as well as the year-long school projects that I had been working on, and now had to redo, with only a week left.
The details get a little fuzzy here, mostly because I was a kid, and my father tried to get details, but he couldn't get many. My sister was thankfully taken away from my mother, given to a little house for disabled people, except she's the only one there, having multiple people take care of her. I visited her every week or so, and she's fine. She has no mental comprehension of much in life, and honestly, considering what she had been through, I was sort of happy in a way. My mother was apparently taken to a psyche ward, and TO THIS DAY, I still don't know the details of that anaylsis, because she never sent it to my father. My father and I both think she doesn't want us to know, which isn't exactly a good sign.
Now, during this time, a court date was set up, but eventually, my mother and I started talking over the phone, and for a while, it went ok. But every time, she would start to go off the rails lecturing me, yelling at me, and I've heard so many of her rambles that I don't remember most of her words. She, like I said before, is really good at using the guilt card on me, and I am not good at avoiding it, but my father was always there on standby, because he knew very well that one way or another, my mother would most likely go off the rails. There were multiple times that he took the phone from me after she started ranting, then shut her up with a quick one-liner of some sort, and then hung up in her face.
My mother apparently did other... odd things. From stealing a car thinking that the cops were after her, (in the dead of night, with no sirens by the way) to..... probably the biggest delusion yet. My dad has a good friend, who we'll call Dave. (Not his real name). Dave unfortuantely lives somewhat close to my mother's house, and while my mother occasionally has ranted at him in the past, he doesn't really care about most of it. He's a chill guy who doesn't get freaked out by much in life. But, well, one day he pulled a letter out of his mailbox from my mother. He didn't care at first, but after reading it, was freaked out. I won't go into details of everything said, but she just apologized for a lot of things that didn't even happen, one involving my mother telling Dave that she didn't kill his mother. (Dave's mother is still alive and well, by the way)
Eventually, the denying of killing transferred over to me with the phone calls. In one phone call, my father wasn't there, and she started to go off the rails, denying about wanting to kill my sister, and describing how she could have. Knowing her very well, I simply took my phone and set it to start recording, then gave said recording to my father, telling him he could use it if he wanted. My dad apparently showed the recording to his lawyer, (With my permission) who is a good friend, and she was apparently appalled.
About the court date, it was set up, and she was charged for a number of things. But... she evaded coming to court for so long, and the time it took for the court to even get set up, made it so that the court timer eventually ran out, and charges on her were (mostly) dropped. After this, she IMMEDIATELY tried to start getting my sister back into her custody, not because she loved her, but again, because whoever is taking care of my sister gets money to take care of her, and a little extra. Through the 3 years this happened, and even to this day, she never got a job. You might be wondering how she survived for that long without going homeless. Well, she ransacked my room, sold whatever was able to be salvaged, and stole my wallet, which at the time, was everything I had saved up, over about $1000. My dad, being the caring man he is, eventually gave me that money to make up for it. She sold her car, and eventually had to sell her house, because she WILL NOT GET A DAMN JOB, EVER.
She eventually throughout months of trying did get my sister back into her custody, but thankfully, people knew of her past with her, and she was assigned people to do random drinking/smoking tests on her, as well as check on my sister. (My mother was also a heavy drinker and smoker coming up, and I know this because 8/10 times, she's brought me with her to the smoking shop.) They could come at any time, and could check whether she'd done either of these things. Let's just say, that my mother didn't even last 5 months. She went to the hospital for reasons I'm unaware of and lost custody of my sister, again. I do know she failed the test of checking on her smoking. (Can't say I'm surprised)
Throughout all these years, my mother has always asked me to call, and moreso to come meet her in person, and with the court charges dropped, she persisted on that even harder, but I've never wanted to do that. My dad relays all this to my mother over text messages, because like hell I'm telling her through my messages, because then she'd have my phone number. My mother has always blamed my father, claiming he won't let her see me, which he doesn't care about, especially since everyone but her has realized, that this is MY CHOICE.
Eventually, about a month ago, she asked my father if she could meet me in person. (She's never getting my sister back now, so her only option is me, because she really needed money, because she just REFUSES TO GET A JOB). This was basically a last-dtich-attempt from my mother to see me, saying that if I wasn't going to, she would move away from my town. My father told me all of this, (every messages she sends get relayed to me through him, and shows me the messages to prove it) I thought about it, and I told him to tell her, in no uncertain terms, that I, and me alone, do not wish to see her.
He gave that message to her, and she's been silent ever since. I do feel somewhat bad for her, but I feel like I shouldn't, but she is my mother. I don't really miss her, but I do feel bad.
There will likely be no updates, this is the entire story, from start to finish. Sorry for making this so long though.
All I ask, is am I the jerk for not wanting to see my mother again, and what should I do?

I'm going to be using fake names just in case this post gets found by someone I know. Sorry for how long this is.
So I Andrea f(30) and my husband Nathan m(35) have been together for 9 years. Dating :6 married :3, we get along for the most part but we do have fights, and having similar personality traits it can take a while for us to come together to talk it out/compromise. I come from a family with 3 younger siblings (m(26), f(25), and f(23))and we are all are adopted. My mom Jamie f(62) could not have children, I am the first she and my father Jacob m(62) adopted.
The first time this whole pregnancy/birth thing even came into play is when we had a pregnancy scare in the first year that we were dating, I was still living with my mother and Nathan had his own house. I had missed my period and taken a pregnancy test, it came up positive so I took another one and it came up negative. My doctor recommended I come in for a blood draw to get a solid answer, when I shared this with my mother she said quote "I can't believe my 22 year old unmarried daughter is going to have a baby, I thought I raised you better" I was shocked at her response, called Nathan and cried about it to him. Well it ended up being a false alarm.
Fast forward to me turning 26 and that seemed to flip a switch in my mother's mind and she began constantly asking when I would give her a grandchild. Before we even got married (2021) I told Nathan that I was not interested in having biological children. The thought of pregnancy and birth has always scared the shit out of me and I wanted no part of it. (I don't think I could handle it mentally/emotionally/physically , I know myself and the toll all of the changes would take on me. But a huge kudos to anyone who became pregnant on purpose or accident and kept the baby, you're alot stronger than I am) Nathan said that it was fine, he was good with adoption and raising a child that needed a loving family.
Fast forward again to this year my brother -in-law and his wife just had a baby. When it happened Nathan was kind of acting off so I asked him if something was wrong, he said he was still wanting to adopt but a part of him is always going to want a biological child like his brother had. My heart dropped when I heard this and so the next morning I turned to my mother for advice.
She asked me why I didn't want to be pregnant or give birth and I shared my fears with her, imagine my surprise when she shamed me for five minutes about how pregnancy is a blessing and beautiful then said "All I ever wanted was to be pregnant so you should just get over yourself and get pregnant to give Nathan the child he wants." When I tried to explain how it didn't have to do with Nathan, I didn't want to be pregnant no matter who I was with and just wanted to adopt she hung up on me.
I felt so horrible and like a monster after that phone call I called my youngest sister Kira f(23) to ask her if I was crazy for wanting to not even try to get pregnant and going straight for adoption. Funny enough Kira ended up pregnant at 18 and had her baby much to my mother's dismay at first (she changed her tune at the end because she had a new grand baby but her and I clashed alot over those 9 months for how she treated Kira). Kira reassured me that I wasn't crazy for knowing I never wanted to become pregnant and just wanting adoption. She told me to not let anyone pressure me to get pregnant and she would always have my back.
I just can't seem to shake my mom's voice out of my head about how it's unfair to Nathan. So AITA for saying I never want to be pregnant /give birth?

I'm going to be using fake names just in case this post gets found by someone I know. Sorry for how long this is.
So I Andrea f(30) and my husband Nathan m(35) have been together for 9 years. Dating :6 married :3, we get along for the most part but we do have fights, and having similar personality traits it can take a while for us to come together to talk it out/compromise. I come from a family with 3 younger siblings (m(26), f(25), and f(23))and we are all are adopted. My mom Jamie f(62) could not have children, I am the first she and my father Jacob m(62) adopted.
The first time this whole pregnancy/birth thing even came into play is when we had a pregnancy scare in the first year that we were dating, I was still living with my mother and Nathan had his own house. I had missed my period and taken a pregnancy test, it came up positive so I took another one and it came up negative. My doctor recommended I come in for a blood draw to get a solid answer, when I shared this with my mother she said quote "I can't believe my 22 year old unmarried daughter is going to have a baby, I thought I raised you better" I was shocked at her response, called Nathan and cried about it to him. Well it ended up being a false alarm.
Fast forward to me turning 26 and that seemed to flip a switch in my mother's mind and she began constantly asking when I would give her a grandchild. Before we even got married (2021) I told Nathan that I was not interested in having biological children. The thought of pregnancy and birth has always scared the shit out of me and I wanted no part of it. (I don't think I could handle it mentally/emotionally/physically , I know myself and the toll all of the changes would take on me. But a huge kudos to anyone who became pregnant on purpose or accident and kept the baby, you're alot stronger than I am) Nathan said that it was fine, he was good with adoption and raising a child that needed a loving family.
Fast forward again to this year my brother -in-law and his wife just had a baby. When it happened Nathan was kind of acting off so I asked him if something was wrong, he said he was still wanting to adopt but a part of him is always going to want a biological child like his brother had. My heart dropped when I heard this and so the next morning I turned to my mother for advice.
She asked me why I didn't want to be pregnant or give birth and I shared my fears with her, imagine my surprise when she shamed me for five minutes about how pregnancy is a blessing and beautiful then said "All I ever wanted was to be pregnant so you should just get over yourself and get pregnant to give Nathan the child he wants." When I tried to explain how it didn't have to do with Nathan, I didn't want to be pregnant no matter who I was with and just wanted to adopt she hung up on me.
I felt so horrible and like a monster after that phone call I called my youngest sister Kira f(23) to ask her if I was crazy for wanting to not even try to get pregnant and going straight for adoption. Funny enough Kira ended up pregnant at 18 and had her baby much to my mother's dismay at first (she changed her tune at the end because she had a new grand baby but her and I clashed alot over those 9 months for how she treated Kira). Kira reassured me that I wasn't crazy for knowing I never wanted to become pregnant and just wanting adoption. She told me to not let anyone pressure me to get pregnant and she would always have my back.
I just can't seem to shake my mom's voice out of my head about how it's unfair to Nathan. So AITA for saying I never want to be pregnant /give birth?

I'm going to be using fake names just in case this post gets found by someone I know. Sorry for how long this is.
So I Andrea f(30) and my husband Nathan m(35) have been together for 9 years. Dating :6 married :3, we get along for the most part but we do have fights, and having similar personality traits it can take a while for us to come together to talk it out/compromise. I come from a family with 3 younger siblings (m(26), f(25), and f(23))and we are all are adopted. My mom Jamie f(62) could not have children, I am the first she and my father Jacob m(62) adopted.
The first time this whole pregnancy/birth thing even came into play is when we had a pregnancy scare in the first year that we were dating, I was still living with my mother and Nathan had his own house. I had missed my period and taken a pregnancy test, it came up positive so I took another one and it came up negative. My doctor recommended I come in for a blood draw to get a solid answer, when I shared this with my mother she said quote "I can't believe my 22 year old unmarried daughter is going to have a baby, I thought I raised you better" I was shocked at her response, called Nathan and cried about it to him. Well it ended up being a false alarm.
Fast forward to me turning 26 and that seemed to flip a switch in my mother's mind and she began constantly asking when I would give her a grandchild. Before we even got married (2021) I told Nathan that I was not interested in having biological children. The thought of pregnancy and birth has always scared the shit out of me and I wanted no part of it. (I don't think I could handle it mentally/emotionally/physically , I know myself and the toll all of the changes would take on me. But a huge kudos to anyone who became pregnant on purpose or accident and kept the baby, you're alot stronger than I am) Nathan said that it was fine, he was good with adoption and raising a child that needed a loving family.
Fast forward again to this year my brother -in-law and his wife just had a baby. When it happened Nathan was kind of acting off so I asked him if something was wrong, he said he was still wanting to adopt but a part of him is always going to want a biological child like his brother had. My heart dropped when I heard this and so the next morning I turned to my mother for advice.
She asked me why I didn't want to be pregnant or give birth and I shared my fears with her, imagine my surprise when she shamed me for five minutes about how pregnancy is a blessing and beautiful then said "All I ever wanted was to be pregnant so you should just get over yourself and get pregnant to give Nathan the child he wants." When I tried to explain how it didn't have to do with Nathan, I didn't want to be pregnant no matter who I was with and just wanted to adopt she hung up on me.
I felt so horrible and like a monster after that phone call I called my youngest sister Kira f(23) to ask her if I was crazy for wanting to not even try to get pregnant and going straight for adoption. Funny enough Kira ended up pregnant at 18 and had her baby much to my mother's dismay at first (she changed her tune at the end because she had a new grand baby but her and I clashed alot over those 9 months for how she treated Kira). Kira reassured me that I wasn't crazy for knowing I never wanted to become pregnant and just wanting adoption. She told me to not let anyone pressure me to get pregnant and she would always have my back.
I just can't seem to shake my mom's voice out of my head about how it's unfair to Nathan. So AITA for saying I never want to be pregnant /give birth?

I'm going to be using fake names just in case this post gets found by someone I know. Sorry for how long this is.
So I Andrea f(30) and my husband Nathan m(35) have been together for 9 years. Dating :6 married :3, we get along for the most part but we do have fights, and having similar personality traits it can take a while for us to come together to talk it out/compromise. I come from a family with 3 younger siblings (m(26), f(25), and f(23))and we are all are adopted. My mom Jamie f(62) could not have children, I am the first she and my father Jacob m(62) adopted.
The first time this whole pregnancy/birth thing even came into play is when we had a pregnancy scare in the first year that we were dating, I was still living with my mother and Nathan had his own house. I had missed my period and taken a pregnancy test, it came up positive so I took another one and it came up negative. My doctor recommended I come in for a blood draw to get a solid answer, when I shared this with my mother she said quote "I can't believe my 22 year old unmarried daughter is going to have a baby, I thought I raised you better" I was shocked at her response, called Nathan and cried about it to him. Well it ended up being a false alarm.
Fast forward to me turning 26 and that seemed to flip a switch in my mother's mind and she began constantly asking when I would give her a grandchild. Before we even got married (2021) I told Nathan that I was not interested in having biological children. The thought of pregnancy and birth has always scared the shit out of me and I wanted no part of it. (I don't think I could handle it mentally/emotionally/physically , I know myself and the toll all of the changes would take on me. But a huge kudos to anyone who became pregnant on purpose or accident and kept the baby, you're alot stronger than I am) Nathan said that it was fine, he was good with adoption and raising a child that needed a loving family.
Fast forward again to this year my brother -in-law and his wife just had a baby. When it happened Nathan was kind of acting off so I asked him if something was wrong, he said he was still wanting to adopt but a part of him is always going to want a biological child like his brother had. My heart dropped when I heard this and so the next morning I turned to my mother for advice.
She asked me why I didn't want to be pregnant or give birth and I shared my fears with her, imagine my surprise when she shamed me for five minutes about how pregnancy is a blessing and beautiful then said "All I ever wanted was to be pregnant so you should just get over yourself and get pregnant to give Nathan the child he wants." When I tried to explain how it didn't have to do with Nathan, I didn't want to be pregnant no matter who I was with and just wanted to adopt she hung up on me.
I felt so horrible and like a monster after that phone call I called my youngest sister Kira f(23) to ask her if I was crazy for wanting to not even try to get pregnant and going straight for adoption. Funny enough Kira ended up pregnant at 18 and had her baby much to my mother's dismay at first (she changed her tune at the end because she had a new grand baby but her and I clashed alot over those 9 months for how she treated Kira). Kira reassured me that I wasn't crazy for knowing I never wanted to become pregnant and just wanting adoption. She told me to not let anyone pressure me to get pregnant and she would always have my back.
I just can't seem to shake my mom's voice out of my head about how it's unfair to Nathan. So AITA for saying I never want to be pregnant /give birth?

We have a 1 year old pup, a cross breed with Sharpe Shepherd and a Pointer Spaniel. He looks like a black lab. Who would have know. He's about 25kg<.
Anyway, since around February he has developed some serious congestion in his snout and we cannot work out what is causing it. For the most part of his life he has had no allergies, no issues with congestion etc. he is not lethargic, full of life and energy. He eats well, passes well and sleeps soundly. His coat is shiny and well kept, he doesn't smell. There are no other symptoms other than a blocked nose. The mucus is generally white, sometimes a little greener but mostly white. He has no skin conditions or rashes either.
Here's what we have tried:
We have always cooked and prepared all his meals and have changed aspects of his diet to eliminate food allergies. We vary his protein, feed him plenty of veg and always keep an eye out for anything that may not be suitable for dogs. We don't feed him processed foods or packaged foods. Lucky boy.
We have no pollenating plants in the house and all the plants we do have, have been present since he came home with us.
We don't use scented house smellies, carcinogenic candles or plug in ones and we have a smoke free home.
We have steam cleaned everything and hoover regularly to avoid dust and mites and other contaminants.
Now it is warmer outside, we leave him to his own devices and throughout the day, in the garden, his symptoms disappear only to worsen in the evenings when he's back inside. By morning time his nose is very blocked again and he waits until he is let outside before blowing it all over the patio.
We have been to the vets who ran basic diagnosis and prescribed some antibiotics. This was early in the year and there was no improvement. They suggested an invasive scan up the nose with a camera and quoted somewhere in the region of £2k for the pleasure. Around that time we took a trip to my sister in the country and his symptoms disappeared whilst still surrounded my flowers, animals and the lot. We have cats, so does my sister. Upon returning home, after a week the symptoms returned and have lingered. When I have trips away I take him with and generally his condition gets better before returning once we're home.
Im sure I've missed things here but if you have any questions I can answer them. If you have any suggestions as to what this could be and what we can try, it would be greatly appreciated.
Thanks