Grandma jerks offjunior

Your stupID FUCKING TRUCKS ARE AGLY AF. Nobody likes you except for the other crybaby bitch boys that you hang out with. Every time you go out driving, someone flips you the finger, so you run them off the road and get all flustered and have to go meet with your bitchboy buddies in the far end of a Walmart parking lot so you can stand real close and hold each other's dicks.
When your kindergarten teacher asked "What animal would you want to be?" we all know you answered "Eagle" and "Tiger," but your dreams were not reality. If the Cinderella witch turned you into an animal, you would pop out as a wormy ass dog with mange and fleas. We all know your giant pumpkin-mobile turns into a plague wagon at midnight. Your yeeyee ass ski sunglasses turn into coke bottle lenses and your backwards flipped monster trucker caps get replaced with shower caps to keep the large amounts of come out of your hair when you go to the midnight circle jerk with the boys.
Your mother is disappointed in you.
You so wannabe country gangsta that you barely tip the scales at 125. Your girlfriend so musty that you cry uncle when she walks near you. You so skanky that you ain't got a girlfriend, she just ridin' with you to the truck meet to eye a guy in the old tinted cadillac.
When you get drunk and stumble beside the road and fall in a ditch, you get lost and have to call 911 to pull you out of the briars because your father never taught you how to navigate the woods. Your truck so ugly, that your father came home with the milk to give you the ass-whoopin that you never got as a child, and to make a new one because he failed his genetic line on the first try.
You don't have any hope for the future because you know your boss is just looking for a reason to fire you, and you rattle your teeth thinking about not being able to make one of your 420 month payments on that stupid ass truck that somehow costs you a mortgage in gas and a retirement in title loans from tryna buy led wheel rings.
You so stupid, that you don't know how to change your oil, so you take it to a walmart and tell the techs a dozen times to not touch the 5 trucker caps you have scattered across the dash that hide the dust because your skanky ass never cleans the POS.
You so fake that you buy spray on mud to make it look like you been 4 wheelin.
If trucks were religions, yours would be the Jehovah's Witness waking people up at 5 am banging down the street because your ass draggin muffler finally bounced.
If your truck was a TV channel, it would be the 12 days of Christmas on Hallmark channel with the same damn 3 movies repeating over and over while you were stuck at grandma's house when you were 7 years old.
If your truck was food, it would be a McDonalds 2 sausage burrito breakfast special. Not as big as you thought it was, and it costs way too much.
If your truck was a ship, it would be the Exxon Valdez.
If your truck was Vodka, it would be Skol. From the plastic bottle.
If your truck was a paintjob, it would be RUST.
If you were a better child, your mother wouldn't cry herself to sleep at night.
FUCK YOUR TRUCK FUCK YOUR TRUCK! FUCK YOU!
YOUR TRUCK IS ASS!! YOUR TRUCK IS ASS!!! YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS YOUR TRUCK IS ASS !!!!!!!

I am not The OOP, OOP is u/Curious_Project8543
I’m so sorry but my friend really named her baby Annally.
Originally posted to tragedeigh
Thanks to u/SilentlyBroken for suggesting this BoRU
Original Post June 1, 2024
WHO IS GOING TO TELL HER—SHE ALREADY WENT THROUGH WITH IT. It’s been months and everyone in her life thought it was pretty. It’s a combination of mother’s names… I didn’t want to be a jerk and over the phone it sounded like Anna Lee 🤦‍♀️
TOP COMMENTS
[deleted]

Middle name Rheam

OOP

This is why it should be illegal to name your kids certain things. There's no reason anyone should have been allowed to say yes to that

~
Creepy_Push8629

It's like when Tobias became an analrapist

&

Arrested Development. Tobias thought he would combine his two professions, analyst and therapist. Analrapist, if you will lol

OOP

I’ve never seen this but oh man that’s very similar lol. It was Anna and Ally

Creepy_Push8629

And Alina didn't sound better than Annally? Lol

OOP

That’s actually way better! I didn’t think of that either tbf but in no way would I have written Annally with a straight face. She’s not always the best with spelling though…

~
SolarWeather

First time ever that I’d actually recommend the ‘eigh’ spelling for a name.
Annaleigh seems so much better to me

OOP

That is so ironic and honestly I agree. We did speak about the spelling after (I tried to be gentle and ask what other spellings were suggested) and she said that -eigh was basic but…I digress.

squshy_puff

Always be gentle when dealing with anally topics

~
erlenwein

Is that how she was conceived?

OOP

This comment made my night

Update? Annally June 2, 2024
Mods, if this isn’t allowed I apologize and don’t mind removing this. But the other day I told you all about my friend’s daughter being named Annally. A lot of you thought I should tell her and I thought I could try to beat around the bush… so I texted her today to ask how her and Annually were doing.
She called me a few minutes ago because she was doing dishes and laughed at my misspelling. I told her that I felt bad but my phone also keeps autocorrecting it to “other things”. She asked what other things, so I said it.
She laughed and said, “Anally? That’s not even a word, why would it do that? Or is that another spelling?”
Y’all.
I gently explained that it was indeed a word. She hung up, I’m kinda freaking out but I’m glad she did because after that reply I didn’t have any words.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
tinymi3

I need to know how this ends

FloraNeverland

Omg same. I’m so glad there was an update! What did she say after you explained it was a word OP???

OOP

She literally hung up after I said it…I didn’t expect to update this but with that response I thought some of you guys might get a kick out of it😖

~
stankenfurter

OP it’s been 14 hours, do you have any more updates?

OOP

Hi, reading all of your comments but no I haven’t heard from her or her partner at all. I texted and apologized if I said something wrong, and nothing. This post wasn’t designed to bully anyone and I’m a bit shocked at how much it blew up.

~
TrieshaMandrall

OK ITS OFFICIAL, She's very dumb.

SemperSimple

Or maybe she has a different mother tongue? Maybe her native language isn't English? 3rd language?!
I'm really really hoping an English speaker would know anally is a word here.......

OOP

English is her only language😖

DameArstor

Either she's extremely sheltered or she's incredibly dumb. How in the hell does she not know about it? Hell, I'm not even a native English speaker and I know about it.

OOP

She always says she’s anal about keeping clean so I’m really not sure if she misunderstood or didn’t realize? Or if she knew and just didn’t appreciate my mentioning it. Beats me.

OOP HAS UPDATED AFTER THE BORU WAS POSTED

The Annally Finnally June 9, 2024
Sorry, I couldn’t resist. A lot of you wanted another update and I debated on whether or not I wanted to do this as I’ve felt really conflicted… I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or bully, essentially, a baby. I just didn’t know if she NOTICED what she did and it was keeping me up at night.
My friend apparently didn’t google anything after our phone call. She never mentioned these posts nor did she call me back for days, so I was panicking.
To clarify some questions and info: She is married, Anna and Ally are her and her partner’s mothers’ names, not theirs! Anna was VERY insistent on coming first in the name. My friend and her partners’ family can be a bit dramatic/narcissistic and my friend is pretty sheltered so I imagine she wanted to keep the peace to an extent. Her partner absolutely loves the name.
She called me a couple days ago and told me she needed to talk to me. She said she was disappointed in me and felt disrespected. She said she knew what anal meant but didn’t register what “anally” was at first. When I explained, she hung up because she never noticed it and was also really upset that I’d say that to her. She doesn’t want to change the name but feels I’m trying to ruin a special name that was given to her “spiritually and meaningfully”. She doesn’t want to talk to me for awhile and was grossed out that I thought of it when “literally no one else did”. She said pointing that out was mean and unhelpful, that it speaks to my character and that she thinks I’m trying to take the shine away from her (?). She also thought I was making her look bad by explaining the definition of anal to her on speaker phone (!!!!) lmfao
“Any name can sound like something bad if you’re literally trying to find something bad to say.”
It’s not an exciting update, but I hope it gives some closure. Name isn’t changing and I’m TA for ever saying it, but at least I said it.
EDIT: A lot of you keep mentioning other spellings, and Allyanna/Alayna/Annalie etc. were mentioned FIRST, Annally was the “compromise”. Anna threw a fit because symbolically, to her, she always feels “forgotten” and having a name with Ally first would make people just call the baby Ally and she couldn’t handle that.
RELEVANT COMMENTS
BoomBangKersplat

poor kid. when she gets bullied for it, she can 100% blame Grandma Anna for insisting she comes first specially when "Alanna" was a perfectly reasonable mashed up name.

OOP

What’s worse is I guess the grandmas duked it out and thought this was an a-ha moment when they could combine both names without “compromise” like losing a letter

CalamityClambake

The grandmas are ridiculous.
The mom is willfully obtuse.
The name is horrific.
That poor kid.
Where is dad in this? Could he not put his foot down?

OOP

To be honest with you, her partner is generally checked out/loves the name/wants to people-please usually. I’ve known them for years and have gotten maybe three actual sentences of conversation… it’s a lot

THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT THE OOP
DO NOT CONTACT THE OOP's OR COMMENT ON LINKED POSTS, REMEMBER - RULE 7

”-Furthermore, Ms. Ippleswitch, this notice of eminent domain also establishes the value of your property and all structures on it at-”
Maria leaned back in her rocking chair, rubbing her wrinkled face with a hand, particularly at her weary eyes beneath the reading glasses that were feeling some strain from all this fine print.
She'd known that there were developers interested in the farm, and they'd been bothering her about it for years, but back when they had first started she never thought she'd see the day that the town would have rallied behind them as well. The attempts had been getting more brusque as of late, and she turned them away like she had the ones before, but she'd also seen each of the properties around hers go for sale and then be sold, neighbors she'd known since they were kids moving back closer to downtown, or moving away all together.
She didn't blame them. Of course the amounts they were being offered were handsome, but Maria hadn't wanted to budge even when the asking prices had risen to two and then three times the highest offer price the newfangled real-estate websites had suggested it was worth.
There were a few further attempts after the last adjoining property had sold, and then the developers had gone strangely quiet. They’d been starting construction and groundwork on areas distant from anywhere close to her own fields, something at the time she thought was an unexpected but welcome degree of privacy when she had anticipated the construction beginning loudly, immediately, and as close to the property lines as they dared. Now, she realized it likely was them being cautious, so as not to give her any grounds for legally going after them for noise or similar complaints.
The letter ended with the approval signatures of the town's attorney and the three city council members. It was less than the last offer she had received from the largest of the developer companies looking to buy her property, but still fifty percent more than the land was probably worth . The house that perched atop the summit of the fields, the one she was sitting in now, was old but certainly what they would kindly call a “fixer-upper” if she would have tried to sell it herself, and the barn, chicken coop, and series of nearby outlying sheds were all in various degrees of disrepair and decay.
They had been old back when she had first started visiting her grandmother at the farm three-quarters of a century ago, and now they were barely clinging to uprightness, one and maybe even two walls of the barn now held up by more ivy than wood at this point.
She glanced out at the fields outside the window, the setting sun gleaming behind the leggy stalks of wheat and weeds, and Maria smiled sadly to herself. She remembered when she would run through the fields as a little girl, hand brushing against the tips of the wheat or beans, imagining that she was swooping across on unseen wings over the rolling golden fields.
Maria had lived nearly half her life here. The first half had been more in town, where she'd gone to school, gotten married and raised kids. But now the kids had left the nest for college and for the greater opportunities offered by the nearby city. Her former husband had let his eyes, hands, and other things wander, and had likewise followed his heart and loins in the pursuit of “opportunities” to satisfy both in the city as well, thankfully agreeing to the divorce before he did so.
Then Maria's grandmother had taken a bad fall, and her health took a turn for the worse. Maria had sold her house and moved back in with her grandmother, caring for her till the end. She had been named as sole inheritor, no siblings or cousins to split it with, and no surviving relatives that her grandmother was close to or that even visited her in her last decade.
So that meant Maria had gotten the farm, although it had not been used as such since her youngest child had been born. The farm always seem to have extraordinary luck when it came to things like the droughts or blight that would strike the region, and her grandmother had always said it's because she “paid her due respects and diligence to our neighbors of the fairy-folk,” tapping her nose knowingly and nodding towards the copse of trees that formed the closest edge of a wetland preserve.
The preserve had been something that thus far the developers seemed to have made no headway on influencing and acquiring. Maria's grandmother had shown her about leaving out saucers of milk, bundles of small fruits, or pocket change, the sort of things as the girl she'd imagined tiny beings would enjoy, sometimes even including old doll clothes that she felt might be suitable.
In all those years, the crops that had been grown and harvested there for decades always did well, with plump berries and fruit grown from the small garden at the house and a welcome lack of mice, sparrows, and other pests that some of the other farms nearby suffered from.
But now, as she stood on her porch, sipping her tea that had since started to go tepid, Maria could feel like it was all slipping away. Her favorite place to explore as a child.the fields now filled with a mix of wild grasses and straggler wheat and oat strands, was going to be razed for a parking lot and strip mall according to the developers’ designs.
That was when she noticed it: There was a fairy ring out in the yard, a circle of mushrooms forming a loop about three feet across.
She'd seen them before both on and around her property, usually a little puffball mushrooms, but this time they were distinctive red and blue and orange. She hadn't seen these kinds before in person, including some that she'd thought only grew on nurse logs and other rotten wood inside the forests themselves.
The colors drew her eye, and at the center of the ring she saw there was a single folded envelope, a weathered tan material that looked more like cloth or canvas.
She felt an odd itch on her hands as she reached across the edge of the circle to grasp the envelope, which was denser than she expected, and the itch felt like what you might get from passing your hand near an open stove for a moment.
As she popped the waxy seal with designs she didn't recognize on the back of the envelope, a wind began to rise and shush over the field, lifting her whitened hair and whistling through the grass and the trees.
”Dearest child of the green, Who resides the house of carven wood: ”We know of your troubles and sorrows. You have provided aid unrequested to us, food and goods for our bodies and minds, without ever asking a favor in return. We know that those who would usurp your dwelling care not for the wind of wild and green, and the animals that dance between. But we have methods and ways and words to intervene, and would make you aware of them, to use if you wish to remain. ”Leave a lock of your hair and three drams of your strongest liqueur within the circle, if you wish to accept our offer of services. The full price would be to accept one of our own, raise it as you have done with your own offspring, and show our changeling the way and shape of the world of those who left the trees and the fields for the false canyons of stone and glass. ”Do this, and your dwelling shall be yours until the end of your days, tenfold upon tenfold seasons from now.
Maria looked up, eyes wide as the wind continued to blow around her, her clothes swirling and clinging to her in the bluster.
Then she stepped back to the farmhouse, opening the kitchen door and pulling out a pair of scissors from the drawer near the sink. She carefully cut a lock of curled white hair, placing it on a plate.
Then she had to look up to see how much a dram was, in the back of her older cooking books. The amount was minuscule, a dribble of liquid, so she uncorked some of her favorite Bailey's and poured a half a shot glass of the tan liquor, and put that on the plate as well.
Stepping back out into the windy sunset, Maria placed the plate out in the fairy circle and stepped back, waiting with bated breath for something to happen: For lightning to strike, for the earth to open up, for a whole host of goblins and imps and spirits spring up from nowhere.
But all that happened was the wind slowly stilled, moving away until it was blowing over the trees of the preserve. The distant rustling of the branches was soothing to her as she sat back in her rocking chair, and she could almost imagine it sounded like voices in whispered, roaring discussion.
Maria didn't realize she had drifted it off as she jerked awake, the sun having now set but the sky still light and only starting to cool.
She sat up, her eyes immediately going to the circle, and she saw that many of the more vibrant mushrooms had faded. The plate was still there, which caused her a moment of disappointment until she saw that her hair was gone, as was the shot glass.
Grinning widely to herself. Maria leaned back on the rocking chair again, closing her eyes and listening to the distant sound of the wind through the trees. If the stories her grandma told her were even half true, the development’s lawyers were about to find out just how tricky the fae could be.
WritingPrompts: When the town came to seize your run-down farm for future developments, you thought it a sign for your old bones to finally retire. The last thing anyone expected was the fae interceding on your behalf.

Spotify
Apple Music

Background

So I had no interest in the show growing up; I probably saw at most 2 minutes from a Nickelodeon commercial. One day, my female friend and I decided to watch this show, and I decided to watch it with her (I'm pretty much open to any form of media). I enjoyed the show, however, there are things that bothered me. One of these things is how the girls treated Charlotte throughout the season. I assumed that people would agree that the girls were way out of line this season, only to find that most of the hate goes to Charlotte. After finishing the season and really wrapping my mind around it, I wanted to express my thoughts. Now, am I putting too much into a nearly 20-year-old show? Yes... Yes, I am.
With that out of the way, let's rip the bandage off:
**Charlotte is a victim, done dirty by the writers, and the fandom's hatred of her is blown way out of proportion.**
I know I’m gonna be downvoted; heck, some of you guys might stop reading as soon as I say that, but here are 2 things you’ve got to realize:

1. IDGAF about Redditors or fanbases being mad at what I say or my opinions.
   
2. I'm not a long-time viewer; this is my first viewing. Please be kind, but also this is a fresh take on the season. If you haven't watched the show in a while, I highly recommend you do while keeping this post in mind before you comment.
   

Now, please, PLEASE note that I said BEFORE her mermaid transformation, NOT after. If I get comments about anything after that point, I'll simply ask you to re-read the post again.
There's a lot I can say, but here are the main points:

1. **Charlotte was a new girl to the area that was ostracized/bullied for liking/hanging out with Lewis:**

I'm seeing so many people saying that they don't like her from the first moment she shows up, and I'm thinking...HOW??? If anything, she's way more likable than Chloe when she shows up. Chloe ostracizes Lewis; the trio basically uses Lewis as a tool and doesn't appreciate him. In fact, they almost got him arrested (oh, we will get to that). But Charlotte was literally there for Lewis. She wanted to be his friend, actually caring about what he does and his hobbies, which eventually turned into her wanting more. This turned into hostilities from the girls, particularly Ricky, as she, for some reason, doesn't like Charlotte for just existing near Lewis.
Let's take S2E3: When Charlotte was spending more time with Lewis, Chloe gets jealous (by the way, Chloe is way too possessive and toxic over Lewis this season. She literally broke up with him and now she's mad at him for spending time with another girl that's actually interested in what he's doing). Chloe and Emma find her diary, and while Emma tries to return it, Chloe reads her diary, falsely accuses her of two-timing Lewis, and publicly shows her diary in front of not only Lewis but the ENTIRE Juice bar. This wasn't just any book, guys, this was her flipping diary. I don't care how you feel about Charlotte, no one should have their secrets exposed like that. (By the way, this is the episode right after they broke up... And Chloe showing these behaviors doesn't put Chloe in a good light). All this for a guy she broke up with.
As a bonus: There is no reason to do that Frozen Dinner except to piss off Charlotte and her mom from Chloe's dad. Like... There's no reason for it.

1. **When Lewis was with Charlotte as her boyfriend, he treated her like TRASH:**

Look, I get it, Charlotte wasn't reading the signs and should probably have cut her losses with Lewis...BUT Lewis should have let things be known more fully to avoid any problems, and he does a terrible job at it.
Talk to any girl on earth right now, and they will tell you one of the 5 things they absolutely hate that guys do/are red flags for guys, and Lewis does ALL OF THESE THINGS:

• **Lying:** Lewis lies to her a lot. All to protect the secret, but there comes a point where the relationship becomes more about the lies Lewis is telling rather than being open and honest while avoiding telling Charlotte the truth. Charlotte tells him everything, yet Lewis doesn't, and that's pretty messed up.
  
• **Hanging out with his ex and her friends:** I get Lewis is hanging out with his friends, but I'd be weirded out if my girlfriend was hanging out with her ex's that claim they didn't want to be more than friends more than me. Charlotte had every right to be like WTF in this. Even if she tried to make friends, 2 of the 3 girls were going to make it hard (Chloe, because of course, and Ricky, who was literally being a jerk to her the second she showed up for no reason).
  
• **Dodging dates or playing goose chase:** Nobody deserves to be ditched or led on. This is scummy in every way possible. Lewis led her around a park during a date, avoiding her during times they haven't seen each other (which he knows she's interested in/is dating him). Like, I know the secret is everything, but some of the things Charlotte spent time making only for him to blow it off... that's time, money, and energy wasted, and that's a scummy move.
  
• **Blowing a smoothie in her face in front of his friends and everyone at the juice bar:** No matter how you put it.... It's messed up and makes me wonder why she didn't break it off right there. Charlotte just came back from a weird trip on Mako Island with the girls acting weird, was gaslit into thinking she was making it up, and then as she's trying to mind her business/trying to forget it, LEWIS DOES THAT. He didn't even help her... LEWIS WENT BACK TO HIS FRIENDS AND LAUGHED ABOUT IT IMMEDIATELY AFTER. This was straight-up bullying. Not to mention stupid (if she did have mermaid powers, she would have turned in front of everyone. Secrets out, game over.... What were they thinking???).
  
• **Not talking to her:** Like everything in the show, a lot of things COULD AND SHOULD have been avoided if they talked, but they're teens and they don't for no reason. Lewis and Charlotte should have set boundaries. Either A. Lewis and Charlotte have an understanding of their priorities if they are to be together, or B. Lewis should have put his foot down and let her know where he is in terms of his heart before anything big happens and not leave until she completely understands.
  

The craziest part about this is that Lewis literally almost got arrested for some BS that the girls pulled, AND he continued to be by their side. S2E7, the girls are mad because Chloe lost her job, and Lewis came at the worst possible time to talk about a job, so they abuse their powers, which inevitably almost causes Lewis to get arrested. Now, I know I said I wouldn't be touching on any of the stuff about her being a mermaid, but if I was Charlotte and I figured this out, especially after turning into a mermaid, I'd be very upset and call the girls out on their hypocritical behavior while yelling at me for using my powers.

1. **Gaslighting, Manipulation, and Gatekeeping beyond reason:**

The secret of being a mermaid is big and very reasonable, BUT they are terrible at keeping secrets, too overprotective of it to the point of not trusting anyone, and are master manipulators. The girls only really care about their secrets and will use anyone to keep it, but also manipulate others. Heck, Lewis got sent to the dumps by them MULTIPLE times for this. But we are here about Charlotte, so let's talk about Charlotte's grandma.
Charlotte's grandma died when Charlotte was 6 years old. She cried for many months after. This is perfectly reasonable to lose someone. It's perfectly reasonable to want to know more about her. So when you see your boyfriend's ex and her friends have unseen photos and videos of her for a "project" and they don't let you see it at all...I feel like that's reasonable to be mad and call some suspicion.
Guys... The girls are gatekeeping someone from learning more about HER GRANDMA.... And she's in the wrong???? I didn't blame her for taking the photos and reels because, at the end of the day, that's her grandmother; she should have every reason to know why some strangers are looking her up. And the girls and Lewis didn't give any reasonable excuses to not see the film or to delay her seeing it for later. This pushes her to find out more.
Lewis, who is blamed by Ricky for some damn reason (I hate Ricky), then tries to gaslight her into not believing LITERALLY video evidence of mermaids. She literally had to go to the old man to get the truth, and he was right to tell her because, and say it with me, SHE WAS HER GRANDMOTHER, SHE DESERVED TO KNOW MORE ABOUT HER.
Literally, anyone could have told her the truth and asked her not to spill the beans and be in on their secret, but after everything she's been through, it's not hard to see why she did what she did to become a mermaid.
**TL;DR:** Charlotte was bullied, gaslit, outcast, AND gatekept (FROM LEARNING ABOUT HER OWN GRANDMOTHER), screwed over by the simp of a boyfriend she had over an ex throughout the first 22 episodes of this season.
Don't get me wrong, after she becomes a mermaid she becomes unbearable in the worst way possible (2000's writers killing characters strike again), and even some episodes before she was not the best (like when she shut off Lewis phone to expect a call from Chloe.... which is clearly obsessive behavior, but I digress) but her downfall really begins like like 22 episodes into the season(23 really after the volleyball episode). Some of y'all make it as if from scene one that she was this way....THE ENTIRE SEASON???? Now to those of you that think that, that's just plain petty, sad, laughable even.
Lets remember this is a 17 year old girl who moved to a new town and got too close to people that were, in all fairness, not really good to her, got involved with someone she probably shouldn't (and IMO she could have done way better). We all been there, were seeing how she dropped the ball but we shouldn't want her head for it.
That also goes for the Actress that plays her, I heard how y'all harass her for playing Charlotte and that ain't right. Learn reality from fiction, and if that bothers you argue with a wall.
Now that I said my peace I'm sure we will have an excellent, meaningful, and reasonable conversation in the comments :D.
Shout out to https://youtu.be/zPD5-4mWUE8?si=bSiYAuzANeGT87de

1. Monopolize! Competition is for suckers. Buy out your competition so you can jack prices up.
2. Even if you don't have a monopoly, use any excuse to raise prices. Don't worry, your "competitors" will do the same thing, no collusion necessary! Hey inflation is rising isn't it? Yeah, blame it on Biden!
3. Lobby up. Make sure policy goes in your favor, but that no one finds out. Buy a politician to sneak some pork in a bill, or beat down regulations, or keep some tax loopholes just for you. Shhh, no one will know if they're all too distracted.
4. Distract the masses. Get people gossiping about celebs, feed them Netflix and Tiktok and Candy Crush. If they're glued to their screens and couches, there's no way they can rise up!
5. People love houses. So buy as much housing as you can so the rabble can't get to them. Now you can jack up prices again!
6. Sell the dream. Of course the American dream is alive! People who think they can get rich will be more tempted by that than by rising up. Forbes, circle-jerk podcasts, shark tank, lean in, girlboss, dropshipping, hustle culture, yeah the idiots eat that shit up! It's all about the individual: if you're poor, you obviously didn't work hard like Mark Cuban or Kylie Jenner or Tony Robbins or whichever clown is popular.
7. Identity politics is a godsend! Divide and conquer: Feed LGBTQ, BLM, CRT to the left. Feed KKK, dog whistles, religious nuts, Trump to the right. Let cancel culture fly left and right, sit back, and watch the sparks fly. The poors will be so raving mad at each other that they forget about their financial situation, meanwhile you keep stacking that paper.
8. Wages? What wages? We don't need to hire the rabble no more! Make robots and AI do whatever idiot work they've been doing. And if they threaten to unionize, then threaten back that the business will fold! To really teach them a lesson, you can actually let the business fold and just start a new one with robots and AI. Or just move the business to mexico or vietnam. Those brown poors would be thrilled to get $3/hour.
9. Keep financial literacy out of schools. Schools are just training centers for idiot poors to be good compliant workers. Keep schools this way!
10. Healthcare is priceless! What do you mean you can't afford it, don't you care about grandma? The dumb dumbs really can't let go of their "love" and "ethics," so they'll pay anything for whatever sounds nice like "health" or "care." If you're selling any of this stuff, just add a few zeros to whatever the real price is, surely some fools will actually pay it.
11. Keep it in the family. Trust the trust fund, make sure your inheritance gets through. Don't you dare pay any taxes when you die, the government is just going to waste it on food stamps or diversity training or some shit.

With these simple tips, you'll be on your way to eating up the entire pie!

Hi I'm a (13)M and my grandma is going through trough times with cancer and bills and I'm the type of person who likes to take long hot showers and I understand I shouldn't take long showers but today I haven't had the best day so I took a long shower and after about 10 minutes my grandma started yelling at the top of her lungs so I got out and I just used the toilet and she was getting mad that I was staying there to long and she was ent even using that bathroom she has her own and I had the door locked to stop her from walking in which she's done in the past and she was standing at the door and she started to bang fittle with the knob and start shaking and pulling the door while company was over and I lost it and called her crazy am I the jerk
(Edit) the reason I called her crazy was not for her banging on the door because I was in the shower to long that was understandable the reason is because after I got out of the shower and turned it off she started banging yelling and trying to pull the door open while I was on the toilet and this is not just a one time thing she has always been like this even to my 49 year old dad

One of my hobbies is making collage art, and I am frequently on the lookout for vintage gardening books. I especially love to visit small bookstores as they will typically have at least one or two books that I can use, and I love to support a small business.
As I was out and about one day, I saw a small, fairly disheveled little bookstore in a strip mall and thought, why not? I have time to kill, let's find some treasure.
As I walk in, I immediately see who I assume to be the owner, a Boomer (who appeared to be) in his mid-seventies, and stacks upon stacks of disorganized tomes. I give a wave, a good afternoon, and receive a glare back. Alrighty, I'm not much a talker too, I get it. Wanting to cut to the chase without having to sift through the frankly overwhelming amount of stock, I politely ask if he happens to have a section for gardening. The man, without saying anything, points his finger to the back of the shop. Truly a man of few words, and as I'm starting to realize, of courtesy as well.
So, I give him a quick thumbs up, and head to the back of the shop. It took a minute or two to plod through, but eventually I spot a tiny, yellowed, handwritten label with "garden" barely scrawled across it. Finally, I've found the overstuffed shelves of vintage gardening grails, next to the religious self-help and esoteria.
Having spent the next twenty or so minutes combing through, I eventually found three lovely books, and though they weren't in the best shape, they would certainly do.
Books in hand, I saunter back to the front cash, and crack a silly joke about the warehouse from Indiana Jones, and how I was disappointed I didn't find The Ark. He didn't laugh. Wordlessly, he takes the books and gives me the total.
"Wow, that's not too bad, it'll be debit please," I say, jazzed to cut some paper.
"Can't you read?" he says firmly, but with an air of condescension.
"Wh-I'm sorry?" I respond, confused.
"Cant. You. Read." he repeats, then raps a tar stained index finger on the decrepit cash register, onto which is a small label, much like the one affixed to the shelves. In the same scribbled writing as "garden" he has written "no debit," and is equally illegible. He continues staring at me, finger pressed against the ancient register. I squint and realize amongst the stacks of magazines, and strewn paper, is another small sign that says "no fifeties or hunderd" as well.
"OH," I awkward laugh, "Sorry, its just a little hard to see that, you know?"
He continues to stare, but it seems as if his eyebrows have started to furl.
I'm now annoyed, and I understand you don't have to lay on the politeness, but this is a bit too far. I start to wonder how his shop is still in business.
So, I awkwardly laugh again and say, "Well I AM in a bookstore, so I feel fairly confident that I can read." I start to reach for my wallet, which has a twenty dollar bill inside. Before I can pull it out, he retorts,
"WELL you'd be fuckin' surprised with your generation." He leans back, crossing his arms. The same unchanging glare still emanating from his cragged, cynical face. Who hurt this man? Am I interrupting his scheduled cataloging of James Patterson novels? Or is it simply the inexorable march of time bothering him?
I'm now more disappointed than upset, as I was truly excited about the books, but I can't give this jerk the satisfaction of my business. As a man raised largely by my grandmother, she always taught me that it's easier to catch flies with honey rather than vinegar. Sorry Grandma, but in this moment I yearn to be petty.
So, I pull out the twenty, and repeat the price of the books back to him.
"You know," I say, "that's about the same price as a burrito and a soda across the plaza. After this conversation I don't feel much like reading at all." I start to turn away, and can feel the palpable change in his demeanor as he uncrosses his arms and hurriedly sputters out, "Hey now, wait just a minute!"
Ah, that got his attention.
"Nah man, you're right, maybe I'm not much of a reader," I called out from over my shoulder, then added, "besides this situation." As I opened the door to leave, I waved, and left him to his self imposed pity. The burrito was halfway decent, but the satisfaction of not being treated like an idiot for a fairly minor misunderstanding was worth it.
I found four books at a small thrift store the next day. The lady employee, who also happened to be a Boomer, was sweet as pie.

I suppose this is more a question of "was this sexual abuse, like in general?" because idk where else to post this. I wanted some advice, especially since I told my best friend about it and he became increasingly concerned. If this doesn't fit the sub I will delete. (I'll probably delete after receiving an answer, anyway). Also a bit of a warning, I am very blunt when I speak about being naked and masturbation and such which I'm aware isn't always great but I can't imagine rewording it differently, it's just kind of how I talk.
Growing up I was a very sexual kid. I'm still a very sexual person but I don't act on it, I keep everything in my head to myself. As a kid, not so much, which led me to do very weird things. I used to expose myself in public which I got a huge rise out of, urinated in places where you're not supposed to (public corners, vents), masturbated in public (when no one was looking, but still in public. I liked the threat of possibly being caught), and even touched my best friend inappropriately a few times when we were kids. He doesn't remember that though, as we spoke about it not long ago, but it still makes me feel very guilty. There was a friend of mine I had a crush on as a kid so because I believed in hypnotism and magic spells and all that bullshit at that age I tried to look up a way to hyptonise them so I could have sex with them. I've heard this hypersexuality is pretty common in kids who were sexually abused in some way. I was about 9-13 during this.
My parents swapped between being good parents and being bad parents (they still do), and I mean that in the non sexual sense since they were both verbally and emotionally abusive/neglectful as well as both supportive and unsupportive of me. Although I remember my mother doing a lot of touching and commenting. Up until maybe like a year ago or 2 years ago (I'm 18 right now) it was pretty common for my mom to slap (as in a sexual slap, not physical abuse) or grope me, do that sexy whistle thing, call me sexy or otherwise make other similar remarks, that sort of thing. I always disliked it and felt uncomfortable but whenever I voiced that my mom would get pissed and my dad would defend her and get pissed at me too so I ended up giving up eventually. It's not non-existent now but it's less. They both also never gave me much privacy I suppose. I mean, they didn't in the general sense — I was only allowed to close my door if I was using the bathroom or getting dressed, and this is still the case for the most part, and I was prohibited from locking my door until like a year ago where I just forced it — but I have plenty of memories of them barging in, which I read is apparently a form of sexual abuse. I just ended up starting to lock my doors because of how often it was happening. It saved me from embarrassing situations quite a few times but it always makes them angry. I have a specific memory of my dad barging into the bathroom when I was preparing for the shower and was thus naked, however I had been jerking off so I had an erection, and my dad pointed to it and told me to make sure I wasn't masturbating. I don't know how old I was, maybe 10-12 or something. I also took showers with my dad, and I remember not liking it, but I also don't remember anything bad happening or him touching me so I don't think that's worth talking about. I'm afraid of inventing memories that didn't happen.
Okay now this is where the hypersexuality gets weirder. My maternal grandfather, when he was alive, lived in a different country than me so we had gone to see him and my grandma when I was 12. Him and I were a bit weird with each other, especially me towards him. When it was just us two, I guess I found being exposed or whatever near him exciting so I did it often. If I were going to the bathroom, I would pull down my pants and underwear and sit down and then close the door, so he could see everything. I remember undressing in front of him unprompted. Downstairs had two bathrooms because he added one illegally for some fucking weird reason (he was delusional his whole life too, mistreated my mom and my grandma pretty badly, but nothing sexual as far as I know) and that one he added was his and only his, and we had to use the other one. I used to purposely use his because I knew he would barge in without knocking and I liked that. And he did, a few times. For a long time I only focused on this, and in my mind, as far as I was concerned, I traumatized the poor man. I realize this is silly now of course.
However, I also remember him doing some stuff too. Like, previously mentioned, a lack of privacy, although to be fair this wasn't strictly towards his bathroom and he did it to me on the other one that was "ours" too, I remember him trying to pull down my pants once with his cane (he was somewhat successful, he got to see part of my underwear) and he used to put his hand on his dick and, with his pants still on, he'd pretend to masturbate and grin at me. I remember once he came in to the living room while I was watching cartoons and I was a weirdo so I didn't want him to know I liked cartoons despite literally being a child so I switched it to the news. Said country doesn't censor non sexual nudity on tv as far as I'm aware so that's what the news was showing. It was some kind of photoshoot I think. He looked at me with a weird grin and did the pretend-masturbate thing although going from when I was a weirdo child who liked masturbating in public you can masturbate without actually taking your dick out (although obviously it's still really noticeable what you're doing) so it's possible he was actually doing that. I don't remember him leaving, or him staying, or him stopping, or the world continuing after that. No memory of whatever came next. I just remember feeling really awkward and uncomfortable. Thinking of it makes me feel empty inside, almost. Really odd.
And as well if any of what I wrote here in this post counts as sexual abuse of some kind then my classmates sexually abused me a lot too. I was bullied horrifically in school verbally and emotionally (and occasionally physically) so it doesn't feel out of character. A common bully thing to do to me was to grope me or touch me, or to make some comment about my body or my ass or something. It was funny to them and their friend group and the varying reactions I had to it, ranging from ignoring or going shy to becoming aggressive or threatening violence, always gave them a good hearty laugh. I hated that so much. It happened a lot. Also in eighth grade a couple made out and had sex (with clothes on) under my lab table. My teacher somehow didn't notice. Hated that too, I was super uncomfortable and annoyed.
I guess in general I just want to know if I was sexually abused as a kid or I'm just being a pussy. I suppose I'm trying to find a reason to explain why I was fucked up as a kid and why I'm still really fucked up now, and also if I was sexually abused it's even more of a reason for me to go to therapy. I know everything is written weirdly but I'm not good at storytelling or giving details so I'm kind of rambling just writing what I remember. I hope this post isn't against the rules.

I, 15M, haven't lived with my mom in over two years. My dad, 48M, and my mom, 40F, broke up when I was around 11 yrs old, there are a lot of reasons for their separation, my mom felt she wasn't able to live her twenties properly because she was stuck raising me and my siblings and her sisters got it in her head that we were holding her back from her "fun" lifestyle, my dad was working all the time and they were having issues leading up to the break up. (they were never married btw).
Anyways, because the separation was so messy and the things that my mom did during it, my siblings and I did not feel safe with her, so we all decided to live with my dad. Shortly thereafter my mom kicked us out of the house we grew up in and we were essentially homeless for almost month while my dad was looking for a house we could live in and this was during quarantine or before it, I'm not really sure as my memories foggy during that time.
Luckily my dad was able to find a house and we've been staying here ever since, it's only about 40 minutes away from where we used to live and where my mom lives. The aftermath of the breakup was very stressful and impacted my family a lot. I will refer to my mother as Vivian (not her real name) from this point forward. Eventually I cut off all contact I had with her, and I told my dad that until she apologized to me and my siblings for what she's done, I would not speak to her at all. It really didn't change much considering she never reached out anyways.
Now onto the problem. Vivian sometimes likes to show up at our house, despite me and my siblings protests my dad still invites her over just so she could prove to her parents that she's a "good mom" even though she doesn't talk to me and my older brothers (she only speaks to my little sister) and hasn't paid an ounce of child support considering she's had multiple well-paying jobs since and is a nurse now. During all of these visits Vivian and my dad would fight in some way because of her addiction (I forgot to add that she's been addicted to drugs and alcohol ever since we left, but since her new job as a nurse I'm not sure if she's been sober or not) and leave on worse terms than before.
During one of these times which was the last time and why I'm coming on here, my dad and Vivian started yelling at each other and I was afraid it would get violent (it has gotten before, Vivian was the one getting physical) so I brought my little sister to my room and comforted her before going back out the kitchen where they were and recording just in case the cops were called, while she was packing up and leaving I yelled at her to never come back, which she retorted "yeah I won't". After she left, I went back into my room to comfort my, at this point, crying baby sister. I was honestly very upset myself and felt like crying but my sister needed me, and I had to be strong for her. After cooling down I sent a long text to my grandma (Vivians's mom) and detailed what happened so Vivian couldn't twist it into a sob story. I don't think she got the message and, just a theory, I'm pretty sure Vivian blocked me from her mom's phone. May not be true but it's something she would do. Anyway after, Vivian sent a barrage of messages to my dad stating how "disrespectful" I was to her even though she disrespected us in our own home by being high and drunk.
I don't think I was the jerk in this situation, but I want to hear other people's perspective. I apologize if my writing seems messy and I will answer any questions if needed. Any advice is appreciated.

I'll start by saying I do not have a family history of HD.
I have always suspected my grandmother (dad's mother) of having something seriously wrong with her more than the arthritis she was diagnosed with. I spent a majority of my childhood living with her, so I can recall things I noticed much more easily than possible symptoms father could have had so I'll start there.
Grandma (Passed 62yo)
I remember her being so happy, loving, and full of life in my early childhood. I can recall the first thing being off about her was she seemed to become more irritable as she got older. She would get very angry a lot over seemingly nothing. I remember it really well because it always scared me, it was like a complete flip in personality. As she got older she seemed to be depressed and apathetic towards everything. She stopped being social. She started having problems sleeping, she was always tired. She started talking about death a lot and attempted suicide and was put in a mental hospital for a while.
As her mental health kept declining she started having problems focusing. She would stare at the tv watching one of her favorite shows, then rewind it because she didn't see what happened even though her eyes never left the tv. When talking to her she would kind of just zone out as if she wasn't even in a conversation. She would sometimes be completely unaware of things she said or did, and would deny it and brush it off. She was very forgetful. By this time she was having a lot of speech problems. She would constantly slur (she didn't drink), stumble over words, stutter, and have trouble finding words. She became extremely hard to understand and conversate with.
While mentally and cognitively deteriorating she had a lot of physical problems as well. She was always thin, but she started losing a lot of weight. She literally and yes I really mean literally looked like a skeleton with skin during my mid-late teens. During that time she start to jerk and writhe a lot. She had a lot of trouble walking. She would shuffle hunched over and in a really stiff kind of way and would often have her hands up to her chest almost like a mantis. She had terrible balance, would fall a lot, and broke some ribs a few times. She would drop things and complain her hands just "don't work". She would drool a lot especially while eating. She had a lot of trouble breathing and was put on oxygen towards the end. During roughly the last 6 months of her life she would have these "non-verbal spells" where she would be conscious but not speak, she would be able to answer yes or no questions by shaking her head. First one lasted a few days, then weeks, and ultimately the last month and a half of her life she was completely non verbal.
I know 62 is old and I know arthritis can be debilitating, but that does not seem like "just arthritis". I don't know what her exact cause of death was, she had a lot of breathing and heart issues, she passed away in our home.
Dad (Passed at 43yo)
My dad was also a very happy and loving person during my early childhood. I remember his personality shifted at some point. He started to be more irritable and angry and it really wasn't like him at all. Always on edge and basically anything would push him over it. He would scream and yell at us (myself and 2 brothers), he also started physically punishing my brothers like whipping. I never was hit by him because I genuinely never did anything wrong, I didn't argue or get myself into any trouble ever. He also started physically abusing my mom. He hit her a few times. Locked her in a room and pointed a gun to her head and threated to k*ll her and himself. They got divorced shortly after that. After that he always seemed depressed and apathetic like my grandmother. A few other times of outburst of anger, specifically this one time when he beat my older brother with a bb gun until he was bloodied and needed stitches all because a bb ricocheted and hit my little brothers arm. He worked on an oilrig at one point and fell breaking his back. After that he kind of just never recovered. He couldn't hold a job, and was even homeless at some point. He had 2 heart attacks with I think 6 months leading up to his passing at one of his friend's house, cause of death was heart failure.
My Situation (I am 27yo)
As a teen I went through a depressive stage like a majority of teens, but I've been experiencing a lot of things that just don't feel normal and seem to be getting progressively worse over the past 3 years or so. I used to be a very calm and collected person, nothing and I really mean nothing would upset, anger, or even stress me out. The first ting I noticed is I'm almost always irritable. I've had a few really bad outbursts of anger, which really isn't like me. I've never harmed anyone, because it was always when I was alone, but I've absolute destroyed my apartment once because I was so angry about a single spot on my counter was sticky (my gf at the time spilled juice and didn't clean it well). I've also been noticing some pretty drastic mood swings, like one day I'm overwhelmingly happy, and the next I'm a suicidal mess. Depression like I've never felt before, it's so much worse than when I was in my teenage phase. It really feels so much more different, and is so much more crippling. A lot of days I don't care about every and anything at all, nothing matters to me anymore and I can't find joy in anything especially the things I used to. I sometimes catch myself being really paranoid about random and insignificant things. I have terrible insomnia, and when I do sleep it's very hard for me to wake up. When I do wake up, I have this brain fog that last usually about 3 hours. I've noticed my memory is getting drastically worse. I get stuck on thoughts a lot like my brain is trying to make a connection to something but just never does. I feel significantly slower mentally and struggle a lot to learn new things or even do things I already know how to do. I get extremely confused a lot, which is really bothersome. I was never #1 academically, but I had a 4.0 gpa in college. I was always an introvert, but I've become more and more socially withdrawn. I don't talk to friends or family anymore, slowly stopped leaving my house, maybe once every 3 months. About 3 years ago I started noticing my left hand would jerk, it didn't hurt, just the feeling of my hand moving and I didn't do it. Roughly a month later it happened again, then it started happening at least once a week, then it became more of an arm jerk. Now more body parts are involved and I notice at least one very significant jerk every hour or so. While I was noticing the jerks getting more common and intense, I also noticed my balance getting worse. Started with slight stumbles and mis-steps to full on trips and falls constantly. I've become really uncoordinated, bump into walls and corners of furniture a lot. Drop things, or miss when trying to pick things up.
It's been bothering me a lot lately which led me to google and that's how I found out about HD and the symptoms immediately made me think of my grandma. I know a lot of the symptoms are common and anyone can experience them, but the thing that has brought me here is that these symptoms I have are getting worse and worse by the day. I didn't know about HD until today.
Also, I am diagnosed with ADHD. While medicated I did experience these nervous system "zaps" that were really uncomfortable and felt like electricity, the "jerks" I am experiencing now does not feel like that at all. I have been off my ADHD medication for about 4 years now. Even the forgetfulness and lack of focus from before I was medicated doesn't even compare to what it is now.
EDIT: Although I kept notes of all these changes I've noticed, and they did seem like cause for concern, I am a man and I do what men do. I have not mentioned any of this to my doctor over the past 3 years.

I(M19) was trying to jerk off and then, a moment of realization, i hate almost everyone I'm starting with myself. Male, 19, going to college, not having the best grades, actually, they are pretty bad, but not because i'm stupid or something, actually, yes, i am stupid but in the bad way, I don't do anything, i have no respect for me or my friends or family, i don't study, i just go to the exams with some knowledge and try my worst, i get better grades than half of the level, but more than half it's almost loosing the whole year. I never learnt how to study, never wanted, never needed, but now i realize i'm just a lazy stupid ass, i never want anything, never need anything, never anything. My mom speaks to me about how important it's to study, she had me at 18 y/o and then, after school, she went to one of the jobs, she had to take because of the stupid baby she had, me, she worked from 6 am to 6 am, the whole 24 shift for some diapers. 19 years old after there it is, the baby doing nothing in the house, going late to college classes, sometimes cooking, most of the times getting up late. Things like that are not important for my brain i guess, i hate it, but i can't change it, when i try to do anything else, i just can't, i have been trying to do some exercise. I'm too lazy for that. I have been trying to study. Can't concentrate and always ends with me playing something. But even with that, i hate my mom too, she might be the one that bought my things, that carried me in my childhood, the one that taught me some things, but I don't see her as my mom either. When she had the 24 hours shift, my grandma raised me, but she, being the mother of 2 persons already, didn't know how to rise someone, she never taught me anything more than "eat everything" and "yeah, just skip the brushing teeth time and go to sleep". She fucked up my teeth and i was overweight until i was 15. There i went from 5.2 ft to 5.7 ft and my overweight became underweight. Continuing with my mom. She never taught me how to cook, how to brush my teeth or even how to have a healthy daily routine and now, knowing that, treats me like a piece of useless kid, like a baby because i never learnt how to do anything right. I had to learn how to cook by myself, never understood how to make a hoalthy daily routine and when my friends talk about their routines sometimes, i just stare, just think how my life could have been if someone taught me how to do simple tasks, how to do a daily routine, how to mantain myself and now i'm a piece of shit, i don't see them as family, just people i know and have to hug when i see them. I hate myself for thinking that, but i just have to accept it Now, with 2 daughters more, my mom learnt how to raise 1 of them, the last one. The middle one got the middle finger too, she has some traumas about crying and, because my youngest sister was born when the middle one had 1 year, she never got the attention because, oh oh, the youngest has autism and another thing i don't know the english name but it's basically no muscles. Now the middle one(f11) understood the situation but i'm pretty sure when she grows up, she will leave the house as soon as possible. I would like too, but i'm literally useless. I can't even kill myself because i'm a coward and scared of death. I just want to invetigate something, make some papers about anything, but no, i choosed law and now, since my mom repeatedly told me to choose some career, i hate the whole career but now i can't leave it because it's already second year, if i do it i will be the shame of the family(even tho no one went to college) and i will have to get a job and pay everything. My mom told me last year that i can't leave the career because if i do, my ass will be out of the house. I thought of getting out of the house and literally flee from the whole situation, but i know if i go anywhere, she will find me, hit me and then have a monologue about how her life it's rough and that i have to understand her(it's been over 10 years and she keeps saying the exact same words when i do something wrong). When she talks to me, she is condescended like i was a little boy that doesn't understand anything. I may be in my rebel phase, or emo phase, maybe too old for that now, but i just can't stand with that, i just can't, and everything, my mom, my self hate, my grandma, my ex, my friends, my whole family just made me explode and i wasned to write it down. Sorry for the stupid and boring storytime and thanks for reading till here. If i got something wrong in the grammar or some words, srry, not my first language and it's the first time i write this much on english

(**title should say that she's made derogatory comments ABOUT ASIANS)
Melissa O'Neil is hapa. Chinese mom born and raised in Hong Kong. White dad.
I'm so appalled by Melissa O'Neil's comments about her Chinese heritage. She pushes back on it really hard in one podcast in particular but has made equally hostile comments elsewhere:
She learns about Chinese culture "Incidentally" (eg. doesn't care about it) ... one look at her instagram and it's obvious that the "Chinese culture" she learns about is through heavy cultural appropriation. Her "Asian" stuff comes from white people profiting off of poor, rural people in China.
Says her mom wants her to have a backup career option because her mom is "Chinese" (Melissa O'Neil laughs snidely as she says this)
Thinks it's HILARIOUS if she made JAMAICAN jerk chicken instead of spring rolls for ASIAN heritage month
Refers to her dad's (white) side as "us" and her mom's side as "them"
Her dad's mom gets the "grandma" treatment whereas her mom's mom is ... her "mom's mom"
Has publicly insulted her mom and grandma; her Chenford fans are rabid which means that what she does, they magnify. They've publicly insulted her mother (eg. you don't deserve your daughter). On the show, her Lucy character yells at her Chinese mom. Chenford fans want to send an armed white cop (Tim Bradford, played by Eric Winter) after Lucy's parents. Seriously THINK about this for a minute. A 6'2" white male cop going after elderly Asian parents.
Scoffs and spit takes when asked by the good-natured host if they can make spring rolls
Derogatorily and mockingly says that she and her mom know how to "plaAaaAAyYy the part" when asked to partake in AAPI heritage month. Is this community a joke to you, Melissa?
This is the same person who, when asked about representation, has said that she is "happy to even be considered a person of color" (she made this comment at an event where she very literally looked like this), has said she feels discriminated against for being cast in Asian roles, and has derogatorily brushed off additional questions about representation pre and during The Rookie. Sometimes she brushes off these questions by saying that she's just trying to portray a strong woman or that representation is not something she thinks about.
Her fans are pretty racist and she engages with them quite frequently. One of her racist fans Jenn (goes by portialedas on TwitteX and svvennii on TumblInstagram) referred to Mel's comments made above as "funny". Melissa frequently interacts with and validates this anti-Asian POS.
I think that, because Melissa ignores and disses her Asian side, her fans ignore it altogether. 99% of fanworks give her Lucy character x Tim kids blond haiblue eyes/make them fully Anglo. There's no diversity at all. When POC bring up the need for diversity, they get MAJOR pushback from The Rookie fans. That fandom is unsafe for POC unless they subscribe to the "white is right" mentality. Many are afraid to speak out. Chenford fans that speak out against whitewashing get bullied, harassed, become outcasts. Melissa can do something about this, is aware of this problematic and toxic racism among HER OWN FANS, chooses to ignore it, and chooses to consistently interact with these bullies who whitewash, even validating their whitewashing. The only types of drawings and fanworks that she amplifies are the ones that whitewash heLucy Chen.
Has said that food in Hong Kong is "inedible". Said in the same podcast that the sausage she ate as a kid (which I think are the ones that are sold at 99 Ranch ... you know what I'm talking about) doesn't contain any real ingredients.
Validated a coworker (Eric Winter) who had a guest on his podcast that generalized Chinese people, by failing to differentiate it from the gov't, as "dangerous"
She has never posted support for asian americans who were mistreated in 2020/2021. Yet she lines her pockets playing a character whose last name is CHEN. She's never posted about AAPI Heritage month. Has never liked a post about it. In fact, the The Rookie doesn't even acknowledge AAPI Heritage Month anymore (they annually acknowledge Black History Month, Latin History Month, even International Women's Day). Her fans are quick to defend Melissa for being excluded from IWD but no one - literally no one - questioned the exclusion of AAPI Heritage Month. If you bring this up in The Rookie fandom, you'll get pushback. Think about why that is.
Melissa "Learns" about Chinese culture through white-run companies (eg. Global Tea Hut) that cater to an almost exclusively white clientele and that appropriates Chinese tea culture for a profit. Goes to tea ceremonies and Asian establishments run exclusively by white people for white people. Buys Asian tea sets that are made by white people. Goes to kung-fu camp, only hangs out with white people. Validates a white man who told her that the kung-fu gods love offerings of torn-up shoes (this is super insulting to culture ... it's like saying that certain cultures are only "good enough" for scraps).
She has made fun of Asian women for being jealous that she gets cast in Asian roles.
Says Mulan *sorta* looks like her. Mulan is a friggin cartoon. What do you mean she *sorta* looks like you? It comes across as her thinking she has an air of superiority for only *kinda* looking like a full Asian.
It seems that she is Asian by convenience. It got her the Lucy Chen and the Portia Lin roles, and she's making bank off of Lucy Chen.
These are just a few examples of what she's said/done. I have tons more.
And for reference ... Her mother's screenname is HKChick2000 or something like that. HK for Hong Kong. Her mother has a strong accent. Kept her maiden name. Melissa learned Cantonese way before she learned English. She knows a bunch of Cantonese nursery rhymes and games. Doesn't talk about any of this. Instead, is incredibly hostile towards it.
I mean, The Rookie is on ABC. She's been a cast member for 6 seasons, going on 7. The Lucy Chen character is beloved, is the only Asian character on the show, gets heavily shipped with the hot guy, but I think it's because she's treated as "white" instead of Asian. And I think Melissa has a lot to do with it. As far as representation in media, Melissa and Lucy Chen totally suck. The shitty thing is, she could be a step forward for media representation. She just chooses not to be.
It's such backwards behavior from the actress. She's very political and advocates for black and brown people. Yet she pushes back on her people.
I went on a rant but I'm just deeply hurt and annoyed by what I see from her and the racist behavior in The Rookie fandom. If it's any indication of how bad that fandom is, I got permanently banned from the MelissaONeil sub for quoting what Melissa O'Neil said about her heritage. Moderators from that sub then told me that "no one cares" about racism. Do with that what you will.
Melissa, if you're not gonna advocate, fine. But don't drag your mom's side down. And don't edify your racist fans. You're just as much of a whitewasher as they are if you do ... actually, you're worse because you're an Asian woman with a platform.
Spewing this shit is not okay.
Speaking of shit ... I've gotten a lot of it from both TheRookie and the Melissaoneil subs. Mods in TheRookie sub and her fans there tried to kick me off Reddit until Reddit Admin stepped in and confirmed I didn't do anything wrong. Melissaoneil sub banned me and told me that no one cares about her racist comments.
Spread the word. Let's hold Melissa and her fans accountable!

Melissa O'Neil is hapa. Chinese mom born and raised in Hong Kong. White dad.
I'm so appalled by Melissa O'Neil's comments about her Chinese heritage. She pushes back on it really hard in one podcast in particular but has made equally hostile comments elsewhere:
She learns about Chinese culture "Incidentally" (eg. doesn't care about it) ... one look at her instagram and it's obvious that the "Chinese culture" she learns about is through heavy cultural appropriation.
Says her mom wants her to have a backup career option because her mom is "Chinese" (Melissa O'Neil laughs snidely as she says this)
Thinks it's HILARIOUS if she made JAMAICAN jerk chicken instead of spring rolls for ASIAN heritage month
Refers to her dad's (white) side as "us" and her mom's side as "them"
Her dad's mom gets the "grandma" treatment whereas her mom's mom is ... her "mom's mom"
Has publicly insulted her mom and grandma; her Chenford fans are rabid which means that what she does, they magnify. They've publicly insulted her mother (eg. you don't deserve your daughter). On the show, her Lucy character yells at her Chinese mom. Chenford fans want to send an armed white cop (Tim Bradford, played by Eric Winter) after Lucy's parents. Seriously THINK about this for a minute. A 6'2" white male cop going after elderly Asian parents.
Scoffs and spit takes when asked by the good-natured host if they can make spring rolls
Derogatorily and mockingly says that she and her mom know how to "plaAaaAAyYy the part" when asked to partake in heritage month. Is this community a joke to you, Melissa?
This is the same person who, when asked about representation, has said that she is "happy to even be considered a person of color" (she made this comment at an event where she very literally looked like this), has said she feels discriminated against for being cast in Asian roles, and has derogatorily brushed off additional questions about representation pre and during The Rookie. Sometimes she brushes off these questions by saying that she's just trying to portray a strong woman or that representation is not something she thinks about.
Her fans are pretty racist and she engages with them quite frequently. One of them referred to Mel's comments made above as "funny".
I think that, because Melissa ignores and disses her Asian side, her fans ignore it altogether. 99% of fanworks give her Lucy character x Tim kids blond haiblue eyes/make them fully Anglo. There's no diversity at all. When POC bring up the need for diversity, they get MAJOR pushback from The Rookie fans. That fandom is unsafe for POC unless they subscribe to the "white is right" mentality. Many are afraid to speak out. Melissa can do something about this, is aware of these problems, chooses to ignore it, and chooses to consistently interact with these bullies who whitewash, even validating their whitewashing.
Has said that food in Hong Kong is "inedible". Said in the same podcast that the sausage she ate as a kid (which I think are the ones that are sold at 99 Ranch ... you know what I'm talking about) doesn't contain any real ingredients.
Validated a coworker (Eric Winter) who had a guest on his podcast that generalized Chinese people, by failing to differentiate it from the gov't, as "dangerous"
She has never posted support for asian americans who were mistreated in 2020/2021. Yet she lines her pockets playing a character whose last name is CHEN. She's never posted about AAPI Heritage month. In fact, the The Rookie doesn't even acknowledge AAPI Heritage Month anymore (they annually acknowledge Black History Month, Latin History Month, even International Women's Day).
Melissa "Learns" about Chinese culture through white-run companies (eg. Global Tea Hut) that cater to an almost exclusively white clientele and that appropriates Chinese tea culture for a profit. Has made fun of Asian women for being jealous that she gets cast in Asian roles. Goes to tea ceremonies and Asian establishments run exclusively by white people for white people. Buys Asian tea sets that are made by white people. Goes to kung-fu camp, only hangs out with white people. Validates a white man who told her that the kung-fu gods love offerings of torn-up shoes (this is super insulting to culture ... it's like saying that certain cultures are only "good enough" for scraps).
It seems that she is Asian by convenience. It got her the Lucy Chen and the Portia Lin roles, and she's making bank off of Lucy Chen.
These are just a few examples of what she's said/done. I have tons more.
And for reference ... Her mother's screenname is HKChick2000 or something like that. HK for Hong Kong. Her mother has a strong accent. Kept her maiden name. Melissa learned Cantonese way before she learned English. She knows a bunch of Cantonese nursery rhymes and games. Doesn't talk about any of this. Instead, is incredibly hostile towards it.
I mean, The Rookie is on ABC. She's been a cast member for 6 seasons, going on 7. The Lucy Chen character is beloved, is the only Asian character on the show, gets heavily shipped with the hot guy, but I think it's because she's treated as "white" instead of Asian. And I think Melissa has a lot to do with it. As far as representation in media, Melissa and Lucy Chen totally sucks.The shitty thing is, she could be a step forward for media representation. She just chooses not to be.
It's such backwards behavior from the actress. She's very political and advocates for black and brown people. Yet she pushes back on her people.
I went on a rant but I'm just deeply hurt and annoyed by what I see from her and the racist behavior in The Rookie fandom. If it's any indication of how bad that fandom is, I got permanently banned from the MelissaONeil sub for quoting what Melissa O'Neil said about her heritage. They then told ME that no one cares about what Mel said. Are you only selectively caring about what she says and turning a blind eye to her problematic behavior?
If you're not gonna advocate, fine. But don't drag it down.
Spewing this shit is not okay.

(**title should say that she's made derogatory comments ABOUT ASIANS)
(Crossposted to hapas)
Melissa O'Neil is hapa. Chinese mom born and raised in Hong Kong. White dad.
I'm so appalled by Melissa O'Neil's comments about her Chinese heritage. She pushes back on it really hard in one podcast in particular but has made equally hostile comments elsewhere:
She learns about Chinese culture "Incidentally" (eg. doesn't care about it) ... one look at her instagram and it's obvious that the "Chinese culture" she learns about is through heavy cultural appropriation. Her "Asian" stuff comes from white people profiting off of poor, rural people in China.
Says her mom wants her to have a backup career option because her mom is "Chinese" (Melissa O'Neil laughs snidely as she says this)
Thinks it's HILARIOUS if she made JAMAICAN jerk chicken instead of spring rolls for ASIAN heritage month
Refers to her dad's (white) side as "us" and her mom's side as "them"
Her dad's mom gets the "grandma" treatment whereas her mom's mom is ... her "mom's mom"
Has publicly insulted her mom and grandma; her Chenford fans are rabid which means that what she does, they magnify. They've publicly insulted her mother (eg. you don't deserve your daughter). On the show, her Lucy character yells at her Chinese mom. Chenford fans want to send an armed white cop (Tim Bradford, played by Eric Winter) after Lucy's parents. Seriously THINK about this for a minute. A 6'2" white male cop going after elderly Asian parents.
Scoffs and spit takes when asked by the good-natured host if they can make spring rolls
Derogatorily and mockingly says that she and her mom know how to "plaAaaAAyYy the part" when asked to partake in AAPI heritage month. Is this community a joke to you, Melissa?
This is the same person who, when asked about representation, has said that she is "happy to even be considered a person of color" (she made this comment at an event where she very literally looked like this), has said she feels discriminated against for being cast in Asian roles, and has derogatorily brushed off additional questions about representation pre and during The Rookie. Sometimes she brushes off these questions by saying that she's just trying to portray a strong woman or that representation is not something she thinks about.
Her fans are pretty racist and she engages with them quite frequently. One of her racist fans Jenn (goes by portialedas on TwitteX and svvennii on TumblInstagram) referred to Mel's comments made above as "funny". Melissa frequently interacts with and validates this anti-Asian POS.
I think that, because Melissa ignores and disses her Asian side, her fans ignore it altogether. 99% of fanworks give her Lucy character x Tim kids blond haiblue eyes/make them fully Anglo. There's no diversity at all. When POC bring up the need for diversity, they get MAJOR pushback from The Rookie fans. That fandom is unsafe for POC unless they subscribe to the "white is right" mentality. Many are afraid to speak out. Chenford fans that speak out against whitewashing get bullied, harassed, become outcasts. Melissa can do something about this, is aware of this problematic and toxic racism among HER OWN FANS, chooses to ignore it, and chooses to consistently interact with these bullies who whitewash, even validating their whitewashing. The only types of drawings and fanworks that she amplifies are the ones that whitewash heLucy Chen.
Has said that food in Hong Kong is "inedible". Said in the same podcast that the sausage she ate as a kid (which I think are the ones that are sold at 99 Ranch ... you know what I'm talking about) doesn't contain any real ingredients.
Validated a coworker (Eric Winter) who had a guest on his podcast that generalized Chinese people, by failing to differentiate it from the gov't, as "dangerous"
She has never posted support for asian americans who were mistreated in 2020/2021. Yet she lines her pockets playing a character whose last name is CHEN. She's never posted about AAPI Heritage month. Has never liked a post about it. In fact, the The Rookie doesn't even acknowledge AAPI Heritage Month anymore (they annually acknowledge Black History Month, Latin History Month, even International Women's Day). Her fans are quick to defend Melissa for being excluded from IWD but no one - literally no one - questioned the exclusion of AAPI Heritage Month. If you bring this up in The Rookie fandom, you'll get pushback. Think about why that is.
Melissa "Learns" about Chinese culture through white-run companies (eg. Global Tea Hut) that cater to an almost exclusively white clientele and that appropriates Chinese tea culture for a profit. Goes to tea ceremonies and Asian establishments run exclusively by white people for white people. Buys Asian tea sets that are made by white people. Goes to kung-fu camp, only hangs out with white people. Validates a white man who told her that the kung-fu gods love offerings of torn-up shoes (this is super insulting to culture ... it's like saying that certain cultures are only "good enough" for scraps).
She has made fun of Asian women for being jealous that she gets cast in Asian roles.
Says Mulan *sorta* looks like her. Mulan is a friggin cartoon. What do you mean she *sorta* looks like you? It comes across as her thinking she has an air of superiority for only *kinda* looking like a full Asian.
It seems that she is Asian by convenience. It got her the Lucy Chen and the Portia Lin roles, and she's making bank off of Lucy Chen.
These are just a few examples of what she's said/done. I have tons more.
And for reference ... Her mother's screenname is HKChick2000 or something like that. HK for Hong Kong. Her mother has a strong accent. Kept her maiden name. Melissa learned Cantonese way before she learned English. She knows a bunch of Cantonese nursery rhymes and games. Doesn't talk about any of this. Instead, is incredibly hostile towards it.
I mean, The Rookie is on ABC. She's been a cast member for 6 seasons, going on 7. The Lucy Chen character is beloved, is the only Asian character on the show, gets heavily shipped with the hot guy, but I think it's because she's treated as "white" instead of Asian. And I think Melissa has a lot to do with it. As far as representation in media, Melissa and Lucy Chen totally suck. The shitty thing is, she could be a step forward for media representation. She just chooses not to be.
It's such backwards behavior from the actress. She's very political and advocates for black and brown people. Yet she pushes back on her people.
I went on a rant but I'm just deeply hurt and annoyed by what I see from her and the racist behavior in The Rookie fandom. If it's any indication of how bad that fandom is, I got permanently banned from the MelissaONeil sub for quoting what Melissa O'Neil said about her heritage. Moderators from that sub then told me that "no one cares" about racism. Do with that what you will.
Melissa, if you're not gonna advocate, fine. But don't drag your mom's side down. And don't edify your racist fans. You're just as much of a whitewasher as they are if you do ... actually, you're worse because you're an Asian woman with a platform.
Spewing this shit is not okay.

(**title should say that she's made derogatory comments ABOUT ASIANS)
Melissa O'Neil is hapa. Chinese mom born and raised in Hong Kong. White dad.
I'm so appalled by Melissa O'Neil's comments about her Chinese heritage. She pushes back on it really hard in one podcast in particular but has made equally hostile comments elsewhere:
She learns about Chinese culture "Incidentally" (eg. doesn't care about it) ... one look at her instagram and it's obvious that the "Chinese culture" she learns about is through heavy cultural appropriation. Her "Asian" stuff comes from white people profiting off of poor, rural people in China.
Says her mom wants her to have a backup career option because her mom is "Chinese" (Melissa O'Neil laughs snidely as she says this)
Thinks it's HILARIOUS if she made JAMAICAN jerk chicken instead of spring rolls for ASIAN heritage month
Refers to her dad's (white) side as "us" and her mom's side as "them"
Her dad's mom gets the "grandma" treatment whereas her mom's mom is ... her "mom's mom"
Has publicly insulted her mom and grandma; her Chenford fans are rabid which means that what she does, they magnify. They've publicly insulted her mother (eg. you don't deserve your daughter). On the show, her Lucy character yells at her Chinese mom. Chenford fans want to send an armed white cop (Tim Bradford, played by Eric Winter) after Lucy's parents. Seriously THINK about this for a minute. A 6'2" white male cop going after elderly Asian parents.
Scoffs and spit takes when asked by the good-natured host if they can make spring rolls
Derogatorily and mockingly says that she and her mom know how to "plaAaaAAyYy the part" when asked to partake in AAPI heritage month. Is this community a joke to you, Melissa?
This is the same person who, when asked about representation, has said that she is "happy to even be considered a person of color" (she made this comment at an event where she very literally looked like this), has said she feels discriminated against for being cast in Asian roles, and has derogatorily brushed off additional questions about representation pre and during The Rookie. Sometimes she brushes off these questions by saying that she's just trying to portray a strong woman or that representation is not something she thinks about.
Her fans are pretty racist and she engages with them quite frequently. One of her racist fans Jenn (goes by portialedas on TwitteX and svvennii on TumblInstagram) referred to Mel's comments made above as "funny". Melissa frequently interacts with and validates this anti-Asian POS.
I think that, because Melissa ignores and disses her Asian side, her fans ignore it altogether. 99% of fanworks give her Lucy character x Tim kids blond haiblue eyes/make them fully Anglo. There's no diversity at all. When POC bring up the need for diversity, they get MAJOR pushback from The Rookie fans. That fandom is unsafe for POC unless they subscribe to the "white is right" mentality. Many are afraid to speak out. Chenford fans that speak out against whitewashing get bullied, harassed, become outcasts. Melissa can do something about this, is aware of this problematic and toxic racism among HER OWN FANS, chooses to ignore it, and chooses to consistently interact with these bullies who whitewash, even validating their whitewashing. The only types of drawings and fanworks that she amplifies are the ones that whitewash heLucy Chen.
Has said that food in Hong Kong is "inedible". Said in the same podcast that the sausage she ate as a kid (which I think are the ones that are sold at 99 Ranch ... you know what I'm talking about) doesn't contain any real ingredients.
Validated a coworker (Eric Winter) who had a guest on his podcast that generalized Chinese people, by failing to differentiate it from the gov't, as "dangerous"
She has never posted support for asian americans who were mistreated in 2020/2021. Yet she lines her pockets playing a character whose last name is CHEN. She's never posted about AAPI Heritage month. Has never liked a post about it. In fact, the The Rookie doesn't even acknowledge AAPI Heritage Month anymore (they annually acknowledge Black History Month, Latin History Month, even International Women's Day). Her fans are quick to defend Melissa for being excluded from IWD but no one - literally no one - questioned the exclusion of AAPI Heritage Month. If you bring this up in The Rookie fandom, you'll get pushback. Think about why that is.
Melissa "Learns" about Chinese culture through white-run companies (eg. Global Tea Hut) that cater to an almost exclusively white clientele and that appropriates Chinese tea culture for a profit. Goes to tea ceremonies and Asian establishments run exclusively by white people for white people. Buys Asian tea sets that are made by white people. Goes to kung-fu camp, only hangs out with white people. Validates a white man who told her that the kung-fu gods love offerings of torn-up shoes (this is super insulting to culture ... it's like saying that certain cultures are only "good enough" for scraps).
She has made fun of Asian women for being jealous that she gets cast in Asian roles.
Says Mulan *sorta* looks like her. Mulan is a friggin cartoon. What do you mean she *sorta* looks like you? It comes across as her thinking she has an air of superiority for only *kinda* looking like a full Asian.
It seems that she is Asian by convenience. It got her the Lucy Chen and the Portia Lin roles, and she's making bank off of Lucy Chen.
These are just a few examples of what she's said/done. I have tons more.
And for reference ... Her mother's screenname is HKChick2000 or something like that. HK for Hong Kong. Her mother has a strong accent. Kept her maiden name. Melissa learned Cantonese way before she learned English. She knows a bunch of Cantonese nursery rhymes and games. Doesn't talk about any of this. Instead, is incredibly hostile towards it.
I mean, The Rookie is on ABC. She's been a cast member for 6 seasons, going on 7. The Lucy Chen character is beloved, is the only Asian character on the show, gets heavily shipped with the hot guy, but I think it's because she's treated as "white" instead of Asian. And I think Melissa has a lot to do with it. As far as representation in media, Melissa and Lucy Chen totally suck. The shitty thing is, she could be a step forward for media representation. She just chooses not to be.
It's such backwards behavior from the actress. She's very political and advocates for black and brown people. Yet she pushes back on her people.
I went on a rant but I'm just deeply hurt and annoyed by what I see from her and the racist behavior in The Rookie fandom. If it's any indication of how bad that fandom is, I got permanently banned from the MelissaONeil sub for quoting what Melissa O'Neil said about her heritage. Moderators from that sub then told me that "no one cares" about racism. Do with that what you will.
Melissa, if you're not gonna advocate, fine. But don't drag your mom's side down. And don't edify your racist fans. You're just as much of a whitewasher as they are if you do ... actually, you're worse because you're an Asian woman with a platform.
Spewing this shit is not okay.
Speaking of shit ... I've gotten a lot of it from both TheRookie and the Melissaoneil subs. Mods in TheRookie sub and her fans there tried to kick me off Reddit until Reddit Admin stepped in and confirmed I didn't do anything wrong. Melissaoneil sub banned me and told me that no one cares about her racist comments.
Spread the word. Let's hold Melissa and her fans accountable!

December 12, 2023
Have you ever touched a doorknob after walking across a carpeted room in your socks? You know that static shock you get, that makes you wince as you quickly withdraw your hand? How it makes you hesitate to reach back out for the doorknob, in fear that you will get shocked again?
Imagine that — but instead of a superficial shock that makes your hand tingle, it instead makes your soul tingle. That’s the only way I can describe what it was like when I picked up the journal I found in my attic.
What’s it feel like to have your soul tingle? Honestly, unless you’ve experienced it for yourself, there aren’t words that can describe it. The only advice I can offer on the matter is that you’d better hope you never have to feel it. I suppose there is one more piece of advice I can offer. Sometimes, things are better left undisturbed. As tempting as it may be, some things aren’t meant to be revisited. I found out the hard way.
It started last week. Well, it will be one week ago tomorrow, if I manage to survive that long. While cleaning out the attic of my grandmother’s home that for some godforsaken reason she left to me, I found an old journal. It was nestled in between mounds of junk — old pieces of mail, dirty rags, and moldy boxes — the stuff that for some reason old people keep because one day they may need it again. Fun fact: they never do. At first, I nearly tossed it in the industrial sized garbage bag along with the rest of the papers that were covered in mildew. I just wanted to be done and out of the attic, where the cobwebs were thick enough to snag a bear, and the air was redolent with the smell of long deceased mice and mold. Jesus — I really should have worn a mask. Not that it matters anymore. I imagine I’ll be long dead before I have to worry about the asbestos or the mold spores or diseased mice getting me. Sorry, I know I ramble sometimes — especially when I’m stressed. You could say I’m quite stressed right now.
Anyway, after pulling several damp cloths off the pile of never-ending junk, I saw what I first thought was an old book. I guess I was right, in a way. Remember the static shock I started this entry with? I hope so, it wasn’t all that long ago. Sorry, I don’t mean to be sarcastic. Back to the story.
So, as I grabbed the grungy, leather cover, I felt that shock. Though it was different. Deep, even. Not deep like “it travelled through my body and hit my heart” deep, deeper. All I can say is it felt as though my soul was shocked. For a second, I wasn’t sure I had experienced it at all. It was an ethereal feeling more than a physical one.
Needless to say, I jerked my hand away quicker than I thought possible, smacking it into a rough, splintering support beam just to my right. As I cursed at myself and shook the pain out of my hand, I peered through the dim light, looking closer at the journal.
At first, it didn’t appear special in the slightest. A simple, maroon leather cover with no writing. The leather was cracked and stained from God-knows-how-long of mistreatment. As I looked from the side of it, checking how thick the journal was, I could see the yellowed pages, wavy with moisture and speckled with mold. I was tempted to toss it, as it was obviously in sore condition, but something stopped me. I guess it was the worry that maybe it was my grandmother’s, who I loved dearly, and maybe I’d get some introspection into her life long before I knew her. God, how I wish I just tossed the thing.
I cleaned up the rest of the trash pile and heaved the now heavy (and quite sodden) garbage bag back out of the hatchway to the attic, listening to it hit the floor below with a solid Thunk! I winced slightly, worrying I dented the gorgeous mahogany floors. Did I mention I get distracted easily? In my haste to get out of the nasty attic, I began descending the ladder, carefully placing my weight to the edges of the wooden rungs, afraid that I’d go right through them if I stepped too heavily in the middle. As I reached up to pull the drawstring on the singular, low-wattage bulb, I remembered the journal, and quickly scrambled back to get it.
Gingerly, I touched the cover again. This time, no shock. It seemed like a very ordinary albeit quite gross, journal.
Tucking it under my arm, I once again carefully made my way down the ladder, before gently folding it up, and raising the hatch to seal off the disaster that was the attic. I remember standing under the hatch on the third story landing, staring at the garbage bag. I picked it up and was about to haul it down the stairs and take it outside when I heard the rain pelting the large picture window that looked out over the front yard. Not tonight I told myself.
I considered going back to my apartment, but honestly, the place was a dump, so instead, I plopped myself down on my grandma’s red-velvet love seat. It may have been from the sixties, and left a lot to be desired aesthetically speaking, but I’ll be damned if it wasn’t incredibly soft.
Spinning the knob on the small lamp beside the loveseat, it flickered to life, bathing the room in a comfortable, warm yellow light. I kicked my feet up on the coffee table (something she would have killed me for, if she saw what I was doing), and plopped the damn journal down in my lap. I stared at it for several minutes. I don’t know if it was some sixth sense. Maybe the journal was giving me a message. Maybe my grandma was. Who knows? For whatever reason, it seemed like a Herculean task for me to flip open that cover.
Finally I did. Of course, the second I was about to read the first line, the lamp crackled, and the bulb burnt out. Dammit, I thought to myself. This whole house is going to be one project after another. Of course, I put it up to the fact that about everything in the house was fifty years past it’s prime. I had no idea how wrong I was.
I felt a cold chill run down my neck, and then quickly berated myself for still being afraid of the dark. I knew there were no such things as ghosts and ghouls — at least, I thought I did. Being the lazy person I am, I decided getting up to turn on the main set of lights in the living room was a bit too much effort. After chucking both of my shoes at the light switch on the far wall and missing, I decided I’d just use the light on my phone to check out the book.
The handwriting was a style that I did not recognize. It was elegant and flowing, but not like my grandmother’s. It was old, too. The ink had begun to fade in spots, but was legible regardless. Though I had to admit, the elegant writing was hard to decipher at times. I just chalked that up to me being too Gen Z to understand “old fogey” writing. I started on the first page, as one does.
December 09, 1927. My name is Eugene. Please know that I am not insane. I had wished it would never come to this, however now I feel my only course of action is to tell of my experience. To warn the future generations. I am unsure if writing this down is a good idea. I am even less sure that you should continue reading this. Once you know about them — they stop hiding. They will come for you as they have come for me. Please, God, forgive me for I have sinned. I pray that thee will still accept me to thy golden paradise. They come ever closer. The whispers, they are becoming unbearable. They started slowly, quietly, to the point that I wasn’t sure I had heard anything. Now they are loud. So loud.
The cold chill hit me once again. I may be a fan of the horror genre, but sitting alone in the massive house, with just the light from my phone casting strange shadows on the outdated wallpaper and mustard-yellow shag rug, the heavy wind whistling against the rugged siding, I can honestly say that I was a bit freaked.
I reread the name again. Eugene. I couldn’t place it immediately — however it rang a bell somewhere deep in my mind. Suddenly I could remember. My dad told me stories when I was young. He said that his great-uncle, Gene (which I’m guessing is short for Eugene), had gone missing long before he was born. He knew very little about him. My grandmother talked about him even less. It was only when at a family reunion when he was in his thirties did he talk with a distant cousin who told him that there were rumors that my grandmother’s uncle had ended up in the looney bin down in Tulsa, Oklahoma. He said he had tried finding records of a man by that name in any of the asylums there, but nothing ever came of it. He stopped searching when there was no more leads.
As much as I wanted to just close the book and maybe wait until daylight, I decided to steady on.
December 11, 1927. The voices are all consuming now. They tell me it’s okay to let go. It is okay to listen to them. I don’t have to fight them anymore and I don’t have to be scared. I don’t think I’m scared of them. I think they want to help me. I am scared of the figure who watches me sleep at night. He scares me. Not because I don’t know who he is. He scares me because he has no face. It’s just an endlessly dark void. It feels as though he wants to drain my very being. The voices tell me not to be afraid of him, either. But I am not sure they are correct. I don’t think I will listen to them.
Okay - if the first one was creepy, this entry really got me. It didn’t help that the fleeting flashes of lightning from the storm outside continued lighting up the room, causing irregular shadows to dance on the wall. I decided I wasn’t all that lazy, and maybe I could stand, walking the six steps it would take to reach the light switch.
With a reassuring clack! The lights popped on, immediately relieving the heavy sense of despair that the dark gloom was setting on me. Now that the lights were on, my bravery returned, I felt I could breathe. My heart rate slowed, and I soldiered on.
December 14, 1927. The shadow man comes each night now. He used to show himself every other day, and only once or twice when I woke at night. Now he spends the entire night, disappearing only as the light filters in through the curtains as dawn breaks. He doesn’t speak. The whispers have stopped as well. They were comforting. They told me I was okay. Now, he just stares at me. The empty void, pulling at the strings of my soul. I wish I could see his eyes. They say you can tell a lot from a man’s eyes. I can’t tell anything from the void.
I couldn’t tell whether I should be feeling scared, or sad for Eugene. It was clear he was having a mental break. It really does seem as if our distant cousin was right about him. Now, they have medications for this kind of thing. What is it? Schizophrenia or something? Who knows. But back then, they’d toss you into an asylum and basically torture you. There’s a reason they shut them all down.
As spooked as I was, I felt a strange compulsion to continue reading. Just as I was about to flip the page, a larger than usual bolt of lightning hit somewhere close by, shaking the house with the thunder that followed it near instantaneously. I nearly jumped out of my skin, only to laugh at myself. Wow, I couldn’t believe how the writings of a mentally ill man were affecting me so badly.
December 16, 1927. They call me names. Crazy. Looney. Unstable. Even Shelly, the one who has been by my side, who fought tooth and nail for me, wants me to see a doctor. I haven’t slept the last two nights, and I think it’s getting to me. The whispers have come back, but they’re not as friendly as they were. They tell me awful things. They tell me to do even worse things. They say it will make him happy. Him. I’m not so sure that shadow man is a him. It’s too different from people. People have a face. He just has a void. Darker than the darkest night. I fear that even if I were to shine a beam at him, the light would be swallowed. Swallowed by that awful void.
Shelly, I knew, was my grandmother. I did some quick math in my head and realized that in December of 1927 she would have been around fourteen. I don’t know how old Eugene was, it’s odd that he would have to be defended by a fourteen year old. And even she was starting to think he had issues. Poor guy. I flipped to the next page.
December 21, 1927. It’s been several days. I’m starting to fall asleep even while standing. The incessant whispering is driving me to the edge. I don’t want to do what they’re telling me to do. I could never hurt them. I want the shadow man to leave me alone. He comes at night now, even as I stay awake. He doesn’t come too close, but he’s always there. Always watching. He doesn’t speak. But the whispers do. They say I’m cursed. They say that the family is cursed. They say that they will only get stronger unless I do it. But I can’t hurt my family. No. I won’t. How do I know this isn’t all in my head? It’s not. The voices say it isn’t. God, forgive me. God, please, allow me to come home. I’m afraid.
All I could think about was the Amityville massacre. What were the voices in his head telling him to do? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. He said that he couldn’t hurt his family. I know for a fact he hadn’t, as I wouldn’t be here if he massacred everyone. He just… disappeared, the only one to fall victim to the voices in his head, thank God. There’s something horribly uncomfortable about reading someone’s mental decline, in their own writing. It’s like you are in their head. As much as I didn’t want to, I felt the urge to see this through. I read the next entry.
December 22, 1927. Christmas is coming shortly. How I love this time of year. The family gathers, we sing carols, give praise to the baby Jesus, his mother Mary, and those who brought him gifts in the manger where he was born. It’s a glorious time of year, filled with warmth, love and peace. I heard Genie is coming to dinner this year. I am so glad, we have not seen her since she left for the city. I hope the shadow man let’s me stay so I can see her. He says the time is coming to make my move. If I don’t — well, he says it won’t work out well for me. Not that he actually speaks. It’s more of a feeling he sheds. The only sound that comes from him is this cosmic, earth-shattering roar. It seems I’m the only one who can hear it. Oh well, he hasn’t hurt me yet, I doubt he will. I don’t know why he comes to visit me. Maybe he is the ghost of Christmas to come, as Mr. Dickens once wrote. He sure does talk about the future a lot. He talks about the youngins. He says that should I fail, they will suffer. I’ve not heard some of the names he mentions, he may have the wrong man after all. Who is Caleb? I don’t think I’ve made his acquaintance.
I dropped the book as I read the final few lines. My name is Caleb. I was born in 1997, seventy years after this entry. He couldn’t be talking about me. The beginning of the entry was so good. He seemed normal. Then he spiraled again. But my eyes flicked back to my name. I was aware I was shivering. The house was drafty, sure, but the fire I had going in the fireplace should have been more than enough to thaw me out. I knew I was trying to put on a brave face, to tell myself that I was shivering from the cold. I wasn’t. I was scared. I told myself how ridiculous it all was, but a worm of doubt in the back of my mind wouldn’t let me let it all go.
December 22, 1927. Or maybe it’s the 23rd of December, now? Who am I to say? It’s late night. I’m so very tired. I don’t want to sleep. If I do, I’m not sure I’ll wake up. I don’t want to die. How I wish I could warn them.
Two entries in one day. That was a first. That one was eerie, but it just seemed like the man was losing his battle with his mental health. He didn’t speak of supernatural forces, of faceless monsters.
December 23, 1927. I did it. I survived the night. I even got some sleep, though I knew it was there. He spoke to me in that way he speaks that isn’t really speaking at all. He told me that once I knew about them, there was nothing I could do to stop them. He told me that as time passes, he becomes stronger. Without anyone to stop him, he will be everlasting. What does he mean? Maybe he is God. Maybe he is Satan. Who am I to say? I am just a crazy codger according to everyone else. Maybe I am crazy. That would be an acceptable scenario. If I’m not, the world is a far more terrifying place than I could have imagined. Maybe there is no God. God wouldn’t allow one of his faithful to bare such a horrible fate. God wouldn’t allow my flesh and blood to face this same fate. I question it all. Merry Christmas.
He’s insane, I told myself. That’s the only option. There’s no way I could have gone my entire twenty-five years without hearing about this. Not if he had done something nuts. But I had to see more. I hated myself for continuing. It was like a bad car accident. You don’t want to watch it, but you can’t look away.
Dbre 2444. Holp li torrea. Mv ca sw. m.
That was it. The last entry. I flicked through the rest of the pages, tearing a few as I went. But nothing else was in the book. The journal ended on that last entry, totally illegible. The man finally lost it. I felt a deep sense of sadness, as if a part of me had left with that final entry. A tortured mind — that’s all. God, how awful. In the back of my mind, however, I couldn’t just pass this off as a mental episode. If it was, I’m sure I would have heard about this. I gently placed the journal on the coffee table. It made my skin prickle to look at, but I felt a sense of sorrow for the man, Eugene, whoever he may be. I suppose he’s my great-great uncle. I hope he found peace.
With a need to get my mind off the journal, I opened up my phone and scrolled social media for an hour or so, eventually drifting off to sleep. The thunder had quieted, and the gentle crackling of the fire had me serenaded to a peaceful sleep.
You know how when you fall asleep super fast, and you have those dreams that you’re climbing a stair or a ladder and misstep, causing you to start awake as if you just were about to fall to your death? That’s how I woke, but it wasn’t from a falling dream. I swore I heard someone call my name. Barely audible, as if someone had just gently breathed it into my ear.
I rubbed my eyes and squinted at my phone. The screen was still awake, so I must have dozed for just a few seconds. I had no idea what time I fell asleep, but since the time only showed 9:47, it surely hadn’t been long at all. After all, I finished with the attic at around 8:30, read the journal, and then doom-scrolled for a while. I shrugged off the disconcerting feeling that slowly wriggled beneath my skin. Get ahold of yourself, idiot! It was just the ramblings of an old, sick man. To be fair, I didn’t know if Eugene was old. I just kind of assumed everyone was old in the black and white days. Despite telling myself I wasn’t scared, I found it hard to convince myself not to run out to my car and head back to my grungy apartment. The house, my house now, technically, was far nicer, even if the decor needed modernizing. I decided I’d keep the loveseat, though. This thing was like floating on a cloud.
Eventually I drifted back off to sleep, waking only when the sun broke its way above the horizon, sending shafts of orange light directly into my closed eyes.
As I rubbed the sleep from them and sat up, thinking about covering my head with a pillow and going back to sleep, I heard it.
Caleb!
Okay. This time I definitely heard it. I was awake, I knew that much for sure. Surely I was just hallucinating because I still had the journal weighing heavily on my mind.
Don’t ignore us.
“What the hell?!”. Yes, I actually screamed that aloud. The whisper was more audible now. I could make out the words clearly. The even more terrifying thing was that it wasn’t a single voice. It hissed, sounding as though it echoed off hundreds of walls all simultaneously.
You know. Now you hear. Then you see.
My first instinct was to get outside. There wasn’t a hair on my body that wasn’t standing on end. I’ve been scared before. A lot, actually. But this — this was not fear like I had ever felt. I wanted to scream, throw up, cry, and possibly even urinate, all at the same time. I realized in that moment it was not possible for a person to die of fear, because if it was, I wouldn’t be writing this now.
I bolted through the living room, out through the kitchen into the entryway, leaving my shoes and phone behind. I had my keys, and that was all that mattered. As I went to rip the door open and make my escape, they spoke again.
Don’t you want to help Eugene?
The voice or voices or whatever the hell it/they were, was now clear as day. While it still held that terrifying tone, it sounded sad. Don’t get me wrong, I was terrified. I think I actually did piss a little bit. But I felt a wave a sadness wash over me. Eugene did need my help.
Good.
What the hell was I thinking? I couldn’t help Eugene. He’s probably been dead forty years! If not since 1927!
Stay. You couldn’t leave, not even if you wanted to. But you don’t, do you?
I abso-fucking-lutely did want to leave. But… I didn’t? The whispers - as creepy sounding as they may have been, they weren’t threatening. I suddenly wasn’t sure whether it was all in my head or not. They sure sounded real. They almost had a weight to them.
Thank you, Caleb. You’re making a good decision.
I might have been hearing voices. After all, I heard Schizophrenia can run in families. Maybe just reading his mental journey kicked it off in me? I also heard it can start in your twenties. The thought of it terrified me, but some part of me also shrugged it off. If it is, it is — that part of me said.
Instead of leaving like my primal instinct originally had me attempt, confidence surged in me. I found a new energy to clean. I spent the day clearing out the garage, the pantry, and ripped up the old linoleum in the guest bathroom. By the end of the day, I was whipped.
The voices came and went. They never said anything too concerning, more so just narrated what I was doing. By the end of the day, I found them kind of cool. They were my own personal sports narrator. My thoughts drifted back to the journal — how Eugene had become comfortable with the voices as well. Was this all in my head? Was it all in Eugene’s?
My grandmother had no TV. So I curled back up on the loveseat, much more relaxed than I had been the night previously. I woke my phone screen to see several texts from my mom, wondering if everything was going alright at the house. I texted her back that, yes, all was good, and progress was being made faster than I thought. I could probably move in full-time within a few weeks. She didn’t reply, but seeing as it was 10 o’clock, I wasn’t shocked. She was always in bed early.
Once again, I scrolled the socials before drifting off to sleep. I woke at some point in the night, feeling a chill. I had never lit the fireplace, I realized vaguely. I reached over the back of the couch to the wicker basket where my grandmother had kept some blankets, and pulled one over me, tucking it all the way up to my chin. As I got comfy, I turned my head to the side. I was about to let my eyes slip back shut when instead I was gripped by that unbelievable fear once more. I saw a dark pair of legs, standing not six feet from me. I didn’t want to look up. I didn’t want to confirm what I had thought deep in my mind. My eyes didn’t listen.
As I scanned slowly up the figure, there wasn’t much to see other than a vague outline. No more than a shadow. Until I reached his face. What should have been his face, that is. There is no way I can truly explain what I saw. Eugene possibly said it best. It was a void — not black. Not dark. It was the absence of light. It’s something that you just have to see to understand.
I couldn’t scream, though I know I sure wanted to. There was something so utterly unnatural about it. It inspired a primal fear so deep, I once again am without words to describe it. I just pray you never feel such an emotion. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. I was undoubtedly awake. I know that because I dug my nails into my palm, trying to wake myself from the nightmare. I clenched my fists so hard, blood welled from the small, half-moon shaped slices.
Eventually, the intensity of the fear wore down my reserves of energy, and I passed out into a fitful, dreamless sleep. Waking up every so often, terrified the figure would be there. He wasn’t. Not that night. But he came again. The one thing that was there, were the gouges in my palm. I know now I was not sleeping.
The next few days went much the same. Whispers during the day. Never angry, never violent. They never egged me on to do anything horrible. They just spoke to me. They became a constant presence, one I was okay with.
The shadow man came back, too. He still terrified me. Each night, he seemed to stay longer and longer. It was the night before last that I remembered something I had seen on TikTok — Schizophrenics would take photos on their phone, making sure the person talking to them showed up in the photos. Deep down I knew I wasn’t schizophrenic. But I had to try. The figure stood there, stock still, as I snapped a photo. Even in the dim light, not willing to risk using my flash, there was no doubt he was there. Now it was real. I sent a mental apology to Eugene, saying I believed he wasn’t crazy. I’m sure he didn’t receive it, wherever he was, but it felt like the right thing to do.
It was last night, night number six, that he finally spoke. I now know what Eugene meant, when he said it wasn’t really speaking. I don’t know how the sound didn’t deafen me. How it didn’t blow the windows out or collapse the house. Something tells me it wasn’t an audible sound. It was spiritual. It was only between me and… It.
He told me to go back to the journal — so I did. I found myself drawn to the passages where Eugene spoke about how the future would be worse. I think he was truly talking about me. It’s as if reading about it, as if knowing about this… thing… allowed it to be released.
As I relate my own experiences to Eugene’s, it seems I’m progressing (if you can call it that) faster than he did. My process seems to be quicker. His lasted fifteen days. For me, it’s been six. I can’t imagine how much longer before I disappear too.
The shadow stays with me most of the day now. He leaves only for short times. I guess he doesn’t need the dark to exist — maybe he is the dark. Who knows for sure?
I do know that he still talks. That horrible, soul-rending “voice”. He tells me to do things. I won’t do them, I couldn’t. I am following one of his orders, though. I’m finishing the journal that Eugene started.
I broke my phone the night before last — I got mad. It all felt so unfair. I spiked it against the gorgeous mahogany floors that I used to worry so much about keeping in good shape. I guess I should thank Grandma for having an old scanner hooked up to a mid 2000’s PC that still runs Windows XP. At least I can get my story out.
I’m sorry if you’re reading this. I really didn’t want to pass him on. Unfortunately, it’s too late now. The seal was broken, and they’ll come for you too. I’ll have seven, maybe eight days. If this happens for you the way it did me. If this whole damned process speeds up every iteration, I’m sorry to say it won’t take long. Take that as comfort, though. The sleep deprivation sucks. The constant terror is not fun either. The voices are comforting, though. They’ll keep you company. Just don’t let them goad you into doing anything you’d regret.
I should get on with my tasks for today. I’ll be gone tomorrow, I’m sure, but I can make progress on the house before then.
He’s watching me again. He’s in the corner, just off to my left. He hasn’t spoken in the last few minutes. That’s good, right?
God, I know I don’t talk to you often enough, or really ever for that matter. But if you’re out there, bring me home. I want to go home.

I,18 F, and my sister, 19 F, just got into an huge argument. Yesterday when I came back from shopping with my friends I noticed my door was open which was really odd since i remembered closing it. when I went inside I noticed the jewelry I borrowed from my sister that I polished was missing. As I was looking around I noticed my golden ring was stepped on and it was a little dent, and it couldn't have been me because i didn't step over there. I then realized it was my sister since she was the only one home at the time. I was furious so I barged into her room yelling at her for going through my room and got into an huge argument. About a few minutes later my parents came into her room asking what happened. I looked at them crying, and said,"She destroyed my stuff." My sister then shouted that I was lying which I wasn't. My mother then looked at my sister and said, "you always start fights with your sister, just grow up and mature." My sister then looked at me and yelled,"This is why grandma didn't love you, she never believed your manipulation tactics!" Which really had hurt me so I ran crying. My mom followed me and I could hear my dad and sister screaming at each other,then he came in. I told them I hated my life right then because she hated me which really hurt because I looked up to her. My father then stormed into my sister's room and I couldn't make out much but this is what I heard; dad:"GO APOLOGIZE BEFORE I SEND YOU BACK TO THAT CHURCH!" , sister:"GOOD, I HATE YA'LL ANYWAYS!" My mom then left to go calm my dad down. About an hour later I went to go apologize to My sister but she wasn't there, I went down stairs asked my parents where she was. "Oh her?" My mom said, "she's at her bf's house rn, we don't really care." Which was really rude so I just went upstairs in my room. I've been laying in bed trying to call her but she won't answer. So am I the jerk? I'm so lost.

so im an 14 yr old male that goes through ALOT as a middle child of my 3 other siblings. my mother works as an security officer at an local place (i don't know the place). she leaves us home to take care of each other with our grandparents.
2 nights ago they were going out in our mother's vehicle in which my mother didn't lend them due to it leaking gas and stuff and told my siblings in secret they could have went but my little brother told me they were going and asked if i wanted to go which i said yes.
I went to go and they told me i wasn't allowed to go (which upsetted me a little). So they left and a few minutes later as I was on my device at the time I heard someone running up and down between our front door (our only escape door) and our window to where our tv is.
I panicked and told my mom about it and she reassured me it wouldn't be anyone running around at night around our house (This is where she got the idea that they went out in the car). She called them and asked where they are and why they used the car as I am 85% sure she did and when they came home they told me they didn't wanna see me so I gave them that night and an yesterday to cool down.
Today as it is sunday I went over and I got confirmation that they still hate me with my grandma saying why didn't I come over yesterday and that telling on them is bad so I didn't say anything and left. (to note our house is conjoined to theirs). So now it has me depressed because first of all I didn't mean to tell her anything.
and second im already hated by mostly everyone I come across so right now as I am typing these words I regret telling my mother anything.
So am I the jerk here? Because I am actually confused upon If I am or not

Hi! So I'd like to tell you a story that was told very casually my whole life and just.....
See? Gut check? Something....
Okay so it went pretty much exactly like this as told by my mother:
She (me) was hospitalized as a baby for 2 weeks for failure to thrive. She was 8 1/2 pounds when she was born and she only weighed 15 pounds at 11 months. You're supposed to triple in weight and she hadn't even doubled. The doctors basically said they couldn't find anything wrong with her, she just doesn't absorb her nutrients correctly - so she'll never be fat! I wish I had that!
....... I was born in 1972.
I have seen a picture of myself at 11 months.... not great.
My grandma quite often took us in when things were not going well at home. All of my pictures from Grandma's house my cheeks are pink, my eyes are bright, and dare I say I even look a little.... chubby?
My grandma never said an unkind word about my parents.... she's my father's mother. She did however once say that she sometimes wondered if our mother was feeding us.
This is all I know because I don't remember my first year and our childhood was so chaotic finding facts is.... near impossible. Grandma is no longer with us.
Part of me feels like a total jerk to come to this conclusion when I don't fully and completely know every single fact but.....
It seems strange to brag about your baby girl being so emaciated she had to be hospitalized for 2 weeks? It came up with my daughter recently and she's like Mom I've always been uncomfortable with how casually that story was always told.... you do realize my cat weighs more than 15 pounds and you were almost a YEAR old.....
.... I was always small but I was never ever not healthy in the next 17 years/ once I was around other adults and/or mobile.

Am I the jerk for going through my teenage sisters room when all my stuff goes missing. A few months ago, my grandmother died from lung cancer as she used to smoke. she gave me some early Christmas presents and heirlooms since i am the oldest daughter. A few weeks later my LED tree went missing and so did some of my jewelry, and I'm not talking about those cheap necklaces, I'm talking about the family heirlooms from my grandmother which she left me that have been passed down since her great great grandmother. I looked all over our house and couldn't find them. After what seemed to be like an eternity i eventually broke down crying from loosing them and my sister was there to console me and said we'd find it eventually.
fast forward a few months, I was in my room looking for my phone and heard my sister's cat meow (she has one of the loudest meows I've heard so i can'treally ignore it that well) so I decided to let her on my sister's room, and behold, half of the stuff I was missing was in there. I know my sister has a knack for going into my room and taking my shirts or shoes, but I didn't expect her to go that far by stealing the heirlooms and other items i was missing. I decided to take them back since they were rightfully mine and go back into my room.
Fast forward, when my sister gets home from hanging out with her friends, she goes into her room. Several seconds later, she barged into my room, demanding why I went into her room. I snapped back, yelling at her for stealing from me in the first place, so i had every right to take them back. After about 6 or 7 minutes of shouting and arguing, my father and mother came upstairs asking what happened. My sister then looks up at them and starts crying and then says,"She went through my room and destroyed everything!", which was a complete lie, but they believed her and yelled at me for going through her room. I snapped back, saying she went through MY room and stole MY things. And then my mom said, "Well, she's younger, you should be mature, I swear you just love to cause problems with her for no reason. Just grow up." I was pissed from them taking her side. I then turned to my sister and said, "This is why you didn't get anything from grandma. She could see through your dramatic stories and lies." The thing is our grandmother was smart and dealt with siblings like her,so she knew almost every trick in the book. My sister has always been my parents' favorite while I've been my grandmother's favorite.
She then ran off crying into her room. and Of course, my mom followed her. My dad then yelled at me,grounded me,slapped me. He then angrily said to me, "watch your tongue you little shit, don'tmake me send you away again to that catholic school." The catholic school i went to hated the lgbtq+ community and would often lecture me if they saw me flirting with another girl and force me to pray for an hour every day to 'pray the sins out'. My father then into my sister's room to calm her down. Minutes later, my father then comes into my room yelling at me that my sister is having some...thoughts about quitting the game if you know what i mean. He then blames me for my sister's depression before going back into my sister's room.
I was heartbroken and called my bf and told him what happened, he then offered to let me stay at his house, which I accepted, of course. I took the jewelry and other things she might steal and packed them up. I told my parents where i was going before leaving, and they didn't care. I'm now at my bf's house, laying in bed wondering if I overreacted on my sister and if I was in the wrong for taking back the heirlooms. So, am i?
Edit 1: This morning my dad called me ordering me to come back to the house because my aunt and uncle on my dad's side threatened to call the cops on him for him hitting me and potentially call the cops on my sister for thievery. One thing about my parents is that their appearance is like life support for them, they need it, and if they were to be arrested things could go down hill for them. For those of you who are saying that I should call the cops on my parents, I have considered it but they are my parents and did give me the best life they could give me up until now. My bf is agreeing with me and trying to convince me to go back and make amends, should I listen? I'm just so confused, please help. Btw I'm 19 F and my sisteris 18 F
Edit 2:thank you all for setting my mind straight. I've decided to talk to my aunt and uncle about this and they agreed. Yesterday, my aunt and uncle set up a family meeting to talk things out before I press charges. My aunt and uncle were in the room sitting next to me with their friend (who is a lawyer) while recording it in case anything goes wrong. I've decided not to press charges on them, yes I know ya'll will be mad but listen, my parents got my grandmother's house from her will and made a deal with me that they'll cut ties with me and give me the house if i don't press charges. With this economy, how can I say no to a free house, let apone my grandmother's old house where i had memories. My aunt and uncle spoke to them about if they ever tried to contact me again, and we would press charges without holding back and they agreed. My bf has been living with me since and we are happy that their out of their lives. Anyways, thanks for the support and bye♡.