This is a WALL of text. Read it or ignore it if you'd like to. I like putting opinions out there, and listening to what others have to say.
“Arsenal watching city going 1 up after hate watching”
I feel like I've never seen more fans hate watching while 0 Arsenal supporters do so.Spurs fans consistently hate watching when we got into the champions league.
Arsenal, when they were down to Luton, had so many hate-watchers. So many shitty fans calling us hate watchers, then watching every single city and arsenal game to try and clown us.
But I’ve never really seen Arsenal fans as hate watchers… There may be a couple of examples I haven’t seen, but from what I've seen our “Hate watching” has come down to seeing how interesting games can be. When City goes up 1, I try to keep watching (from NZ, so time zones are a bitch) because I like football and I’m interested. I got to 3-0 city vs Fulham before I fell asleep.
Just funny going onto twitter and reading chelsea fans saying ”CITTTEHHHHHH” n such. A bit of a guilty pleasure is reading idiotic posts on twitter.
The Social Media Fans
Social media fans are rampant and are now seen as “The fans of the club” which is insane, because 90% of them have never been to England, let alone a game. And will look at a scoreline/highlights to determine what they think, And look at a team’s name to determine what the result should be.
Trust, I’ve watched full games back from time to time, and goddamn the picture is soooooooo different, from watching highlights, or reading a timeline.
Not sure about certain supporters who live within England, and It may be “banter” but it gets tiring hearing “We all hate Arsenal fans” when you actively have so many more Chelsea, and United fans screaming in your ears about every little thing, while supporting their rivals…
I hate the “pray for (insert team)” but the more of a meme it becomes the better, it’s just sad that they come with some of the most delusional takes ever, from people who don’t pay attention to how other teams are performing. And that they’re not just “food” for us to eat, it’s a competitive league for a reason.
Supporting the Dominant Team
I also find it insane that such a large group of people would rather see a team, with 115+ charges (who have been constantly avoiding them), while also spending billions to win the league for the 6th time in 7 years, over a team which is having a rise to glory. Just because “It’s arsenal”. While if you look back a couple months, everyone is complaining about city.
Also when did the fact where everyone hates the dominant team, and wants to see others rising not become a thing? F1 had it with Hamilton, now verstappen. NZ rugby has it with the crusaders (absolute cunts btw), and it happened with Golden State in the NBA, and now the nuggets.
Clubs who talk about history to prove they’re better now
It’s so common I see fans talk about trophies as if they mean “We’re the best team in the world”, Chelsea fans are great at this, bringing back a champions league where they only have 3 of those players, and a completely different management and ownership.
I just hope that this is banter, and not actual delulu. Hard for me to tell, or even certain teams talking about european trophies (cough cough west ham *cough cough*), where it is amazing they got it, but bring a top 4 / 5 team, who wants to win that competition, and they’ll win it almost every time.
What defines big clubs to me is, how good is your club now, and how many fans around the world do you have. Man United has the fans, but the team quality due to injuries wouldn’t help them to be the “biggest club”. The reason Barcelona vs Real was so big was because they were the best in the world, with the best players, and the most fans. Barcelona are a smaller club now (still huge), because the names aren’t as big, and they aren’t as competitive as they used to be. But still will have a ton of fans.
Teams Succeeding???
For me, I don’t like spurs, the mentality, the supporters, the scummy tactics. But I do want to see the team succeed in the competition (I Also like Ange and his story). I’m happy Aston Villa is doing well, I’m happy Liverpool had a bounce back season, and I'm happy Newcastle have started to find their footing.
And this is because you want a competitive league. We DON’T want a Bayern situation. Everyone always wanted Dortmund to win it, or at least another team, and look at the celebrations now that Leverkusen has done it. Bundesliga got 5 champions league spots, not only because of what happened in the Champion league, but you have Bayern, Dortmund, Leverkusen, Stuttgart, Frankfurt, RB Leipzig all becoming more and more competitive. (Even though the disparity between 1-8 and 9-18 is big) it’s a step in a good direction.
Winning the League?
I’ve supported Arsenal since I was 7, because playing Fifa 12 with my older brothers, I thought the cannon was cool. I’ve been on and off for a while, but Arteta brought me back (And my degen phase of 4 hours of sleep has kicked in)
These years have taught me to never expect our team to win anything, till the final whistle of the final game. Very fucking sad, but it’s true. I will celebrate every win, Look back at every loss, watch every minute I can despite being sleep deprived, and love every moment, because I fucking love this club. I don’t care if we win the Premier league this season or not, I have no hope, but that could be my bleak outlook. But it was the same last season. I wait for the final whistle of the final game, then having the trophy or not, might give me a little more happiness.
But by far the most important thing for a depressed, mentally ill, sleep deprived, University student. Is when I see posts about the players, the club, the staff and the fans. And it makes me smile. As simple as seeing Gabriel and Saliba partnership being praised and them being “future” of Arsenal, makes me smile now, and gives me the moments of happiness which sadly, fade quickly. But they’re there.
Lastly PLEASE for the love of this club, never stop talking about the small cute things our players do, the celebrities involved, the nicknames we give our players, the new chants created. That character is what makes this club fucking beautiful.

All right guys I hope I don’t sound pathetic.
Basically growing up, I was raised in a house where my father was domestically abusing my mother, and no one knew. I came to a Western country as an immigrant and soon afterwards, my father’s parents’ died and he became extremely mentally ill and started hitting my mother in front of me and my sister.
During high school, I started self-harming to deal with the stuff going on at home and having to continue living my life as if nothing had happened. Then I admitted myself to the hospital twice because I was suicidal.
Basically, the problem I’m having, is that I’m constantly angry at everyone and everything. And while the focus on this post is not my background, I thought it’d be worthwhile explaining it so you readers can understand where I’m coming from.
What’s actually getting on my nerves is how I wake up everything feeling constantly irritated. For example, one memory that really makes me upset is when I was 12 in high school and a boy said to me ‘suck my d***’ randomly while I was trying to do my schoolwork and his two friends laughed at me. For the rest of the year, I was extremely uncomfortable being in the same classroom as him and most other boys because of them constantly bothering me. I did not tell the teachers because they did not take bullying seriously at my school. From that memory, I’m angry at the boy yes, but the people I’m most angry at are my parents, because they told me they were doing me a favour by sending me to that school (it was the best one where I live) but really they threw me into the lion’s den and made me put up with verbal harassment for 2 years in the name of ‘having a better future’.
Fast forward to now, I’m still dealing with frustration for the pettiest reasons, as there is one colleague who I really don’t like, because I helped her out on a project and she didn’t even acknowledge me during our end of year party and went so far as to try doing some of my job even though it’s not her responsibility. I tried being nice to her and she has behaved so rudely to me.
Overall, I wake up everyday feeling like the world is against me and everyone tells me that they ‘care’ about me, but the way they behave is the complete opposite.
I’m just wondering, how do I deal with these emotions? I see a psychiatrist every half year, but even then I’m walking on a tightrope.

context I (22 f) had two childhood best friends let's call them Mary and Anna for the sake of the story... We were inseparable we did everything together made sure we spend as much time as possible together, now there has been many red flags about Anna since the beginning of this friendship but we ignored them cuz "she was our friend she could never have bad intentions"... Both of Mary's parents had cancer and she only had a little sister who was a kid at the time and only one uncle so she was on her own... Two years ago unfortunately both of Mary's parents died within the same year only five months apart her mom first then her dad.. The friendship went downhill since that moment when Mary's mom died she was devastated and all alone at the funeral "her culture demands three days funeral at the church and then people would come to visit the family's house after".... We all had uni exams at that time but I didn't think much of that and just packed my stuff and went to help my friend out cleaning the house helping her out and kept doing that for the next few months.. Now Anna..she didn't show up at the funeral ,also she would go out partying shopping during the first three days ...and posting it all on her stories... And of course Mary noticed that and got really hurt.. When she confronted Anna.. Anna tried to defend herself by saying the worst things ever things like "my parents didn't want me to catch all the bad energy" and "they said we aren't gonna adopt you anyway so why waste my time instead of studying" when she realised that Mary was even more pissed off she tried turn things around and make me look bad I wasn't even there she said that I told her not to come and I was trying to sabotage the friendship between them and that's when Mary had enough and decided to just cut her off and leave this friendship... Since that moment and that girl took it upon herself to make my life a living hell she tried to make our friends cut me off and spread a rumer that I was sleeping with MARY'S FATHER and would bully me for the fact that I'm a hijabi I'm Muslim she's not I confronted her and then completely ignored her. Fast forward to last month at my work place I saw a familiar name we have clients and those clients we deal with for like six or seven months cuz we're an educational institute I told my manager the story and that I'm ready to quit my job that I love just to not deal with that person ever again. Now when she realized I work there I ghosted her in real life I wouldn't even look at her she went back to her old twisted games she bullied our employees who are just a bunch of teenagers and was talking shit about me saying she wouldn't do business with this place if they didn't fire me cuz a well respected place shouldn't hire people like me unfortunately for her my clients were there they stood up for me defended me and put her back in her place at that moment she went crazy..she made a big scene and called for the manager .. Who was there at the time and saw everything and instead of getting me in trouble she was kicked out and banned from this place and since we live in a very small town now everyone knows her as the psychotic karen and now alot of people are avoiding working or coming into contact with her .. Now her family is blowing up my phone with nasty messages her mom saw my mom at shop and told her that she raised a monster and even some of our friends said it was a dck move from me to tell on her and that I ruined her reputation... So was it really a dck move that I told my boss her story .. I did that just because I didn't want troubles and was lowkey worried that she'd try to do something.. So AITA or was is self defense?

DC Next Proudly Presents:

NIGHTWING:

In Hunter Hybrid
Issue Fourteen: The Meek Shall Inherit
Written by AdamantAce
Edited by PatrollinTheMojave
 
<< First Issue < Prev. Next Issue > Coming Next Month
 
 
Dick's heart hammered against his chest like a pounding storm as he stood amidst the laboratory, flanked by Artemis and Barry Allen, the Flash. The weight of worry for Mar'i bore down on him unbearably, each moment without her amplifying his anxiety.
In the secluded closet hidden at the back of the lab, Dick and Artemis had found something haunting: a trove of withered seedlings, dead plants that looked alien in nature. Assuming the worst, but needing to confirm, Dick had quickly summoned a friend with a history of running genetic samples - none other than the Scarlet Speedster - to the scene.
Barry’s brow furrowed in concentration as he examined the specimens, having already run several tests.
“I'm limited in what I can do here; I'm a CSI, not a xenologist,” Barry admitted with regret, evoking his favourite chief medical officer of fiction. “Really, this really feels like a job for someone like Cadmus. Alien DNA is their whole deal.”
Dick could only grimace at the suggestion, reminded of the sickening experiments he had unearthed in the bowels of the Chicago cloning laboratory, of the dozens of aborted attempts at cloning Bruce Wayne. It was hard to stomach, especially knowing that he still had no idea who was responsible. “Not an option," he replied firmly. “Not Cadmus.”
Barry raised an eyebrow, his curiosity evident in his expression. “You don't believe those rumours about the Superboy clones, do you?" he asked. “They’re Reawakened through and through. Blame the other universes’ Cadmuses.”
In response, Dick shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s… something else.”
Barry then looked to Artemis and smiled. “It’s, uh… nice to meet you properly by the way,” he said. “I heard you, uh, shoot arrows.”
Despite the terrible situation they were in, Artemis allowed herself a snicker in response to the Flash’s awkwardness. “Among other things. It’s important to branch out, seeing as I know you already have an arrows guy.”
Just then, Tim emerged from behind a sliding door, draped in his red and black Rook gear, a stack of papers in hand. “Got the printouts you asked for,” he said, handing them over to Barry.
Barry swiftly flipped through the pages at super speed, his expression growing grim as he absorbed the information.
“What is it?” asked Artemis.
“What we feared,” he announced somberly. “The dead seedlings match the profile of alien species, with a significant DNA match for the Morning Eclipse sample you got from Starling’s fingernails.”
Dick's frustration boiled over, his voice dripping with anger. “Wilkof,” he spat, his jaw clenched in fury. “He let that damn killer plant loose.”
Tim struck himself in the shoulder in self-reproach. “I should've put it together sooner,” he muttered. “Wilkof knew plenty about Tamaran even before you let him speak to Mar’i.”
“It’s worse than we thought,” added Barry, and everyone’s blood turned cold. “This Dr Wilkof wasn't just releasing the Morning Eclipse, he was trying to propagate them; taking cuttings to grow more of them. We’re just lucky the Earth's sunlight is too diffuse for their growth.”
Dick's eyes widened in horror. “So he’s trying to create an army of killer plants?”
Barry nodded solemnly. “An army or a particularly menacing greenhouse.”
Artemis's brow furrowed as she pieced together a crucial detail. “Wait, a couple years ago they had me subbing in the bio department at school for a few months. I’m pretty sure plants grown from cuttings are meant to be genetically identical to the parent.”
Tim cursed under his breath and then reached for the printouts to give them a check over himself. “You’re right! Genetic variation only occurs after pollination. But these plants aren't self-pollinated. They're too distinct from the original sample taken from Mar'i’s attack.”
Barry's voice quivered as he raised a troubling possibility. “Could there be two adult killer plants on the loose?”
“No, it's not that,” Tim quickly replied again, his expression grave as he looked up from the stack of papers. “It's worse.”
Artemis' heart sank. “How could it possibly be worse?”
“The dead seedlings share identical DNA with each other. And every single one of their genes is present in the parent sample. But the parent also has additional chromosomes that all of the seedlings lack,” Tim explained as his eyes traced the text on the papers once more. “The parent had an extra 48 chromosomes.”
Barry's face paled. "48? Are you sure?”
“48? What does that mean?” asked Dick, looking rapidly back and forth between Tim and Barry.
Artemis gritted her teeth. “Humans have 48 chromosomes. The adult plant is half human.”
“Fully human,” Barry corrected. “And fully plant too. A symbiosis.”
“What does that mean?” asked Dick, scared of the answer he would soon receive.
“It means I think Wilkof merged himself with the plant.”
 
🔹🔹 🪶 🔹🔹
 
Ker-tonk.
Ker-tonk.
Ker-tonk.
Mar’i lay in the darkness of the car’s trunk, helpless. She couldn’t tell how long it had been since she last felt the sun’s warmth on her skin. She tried to summon childhood memories of Tamaran, of the sun her father had found oppressive and her mother found liberating. But they were distant and blurred, echoes from another lifetime - and another timeline.
As the car rumbled on, she focused on her senses, trying to glean any information about her surroundings. The air was stale and musty, tinged with the scent of oil and rubber. The vibrations of the road beneath her reverberated through her body, a constant reminder of her captivity.
Eventually, the car came to a halt, and Mar’i braced herself as the trunk door creaked open, flooding the confined space with blinding light. Blinking rapidly, she squinted against the harsh glare, feeling the rejuvenating solar rays bathing her, a stark contrast to the cold darkness of her confinement.
Dr Wilkof loomed over her, his appearance now almost normal except for a slight pallor that hinted at something darker beneath the surface. He reached out, his hands enveloping her wrists, which were bound with withered rope. Thick, barbed vines extended from the sleeves of his coat, renewing her restraints and further draining what little power reserves she had left.
As he dragged her up out of the trunk, Mar’i found herself in the midst of a desolate car park, surrounded by nothing but empty space and the looming silhouette of a large hangar. She had nary a clue of where they were.
“It will be easier if you don’t struggle,” he said, his tone devoid of joy or malice, as if he were simply stating a fact. But Mar’i knew better than to trust his words.
As Wilkof led her towards the hangar, Mar’i stumbled along behind him, the vines around her wrists taut like a leash. She tried to reason with him, to appeal to the vestiges of his humanity buried beneath the madness that gripped him.
“You don’t have to do this,” she implored, unsure of how much of his humanity really remained. “The plant doesn’t have to control you.”
Wilkof's eyes gleamed with a haunted fervour as he shook his head, the vines’ grip tightening around Mar'i’s wrists. “I've sacrificed too much to stop now,” he muttered. Those words carried a strange quality,like they weren’t fully his. Maybe it was the plant talking, maybe they were words he had rehearsed to himself enough times for them to become hollow. “I won’t let it all be in vain.”
For a moment, Mar’i was left to wonder what he meant by that. Then she remembered what little she knew about him, and a shiver ran down her spine. (He had fed the rest of his team from the lab to the plant, a grim sacrifice to fuel his delusions of grandeur.*
“No one cared about mild-mannered Hunter Wilkof,” he continued, his voice cracking with bitterness. “The plant promised to make me someone special, to make me famous.”
Mar’i shook her head in disbelief as she continued to be lugged along. “The plant doesn’t speak,” she insisted with a rising urgency. “Its pheromones mess with your mind, make you see and hear things that aren’t there.”
But Wilkof brushed off her words with a scoff. “I don’t care,” he replied, his gaze fixed on the hangar ahead. “I fed the plant like I was told, but the fame never came. I let it eat the only thing I ever loved. But… nothing changed.”
Her heart yearned to find some way to free him of the plant’s clutches, to help him see the light, but she knew well what desperation could do to a person, if left unchecked. She knew how far someone could fall.
“Then I realised… I wasn’t meant for prizes and celebrity,” he continued, deranged. “That wasn’t what the plant had planned for us. It’s just like you said in your Tamaranean fairy tale, the Morning Eclipse and its legend. I knew we were meant for infamy, but just one plant and its keeper wouldn’t do the trick. We needed a bigger family.”
At this point, Hunter stopped, and the pair had finally reached the mouth of the hangar. Mar’i searched through the darkness, but was struggling to see straight at all thanks to the toxic, draining effect of her Morning Eclipse vine restraints.
Wilkof just stared into the darkness, and continued. “I tried taking cuttings, but no matter how much blood, meat or southern exposure I gave them… it wasn’t enough, and they wilted. It wouldn’t tell me why it wasn’t working, and all I knew was that the plant was from Tamaran,” he confessed, his voice growing hoarse with emotion. “So I went to look for Starfire, but she was in space. And then… then I found you. A hybrid like me.”
But throughout Hunter’s grim confession, Mar’i was still missing some important details. “How did you know the plant was from Tamaran?” She defied him, “It doesn’t have a mind of its own, so it couldn’t have told you.”
Hunter smiled. “I used to drive out into the countryside and just leave my car behind, go for these long walks to clear my head when city life got too much,” he explained, a shroud of something resembling peace slowly falling over him. “I always felt guilty for it, reasoning I should have been spending that time in the lab, looking for ways to help people. But this one day, a few years ago now, I realised it was all worth it.”
He then pulled a remote from his pocket and pressed a button at its centre. As the lights of the hangar flickered to life, they revealed a magnificent sight, something Mar’i immediately recognised as a First Class Vegan Star Cruiser - a Tamaranean space vessel from the shipyards of Okaara - resplendent in hues of silver and violet. The ship stood tall and proud, a beacon of extraterrestrial wonder amidst the mundane surroundings of the hangar. But why was it here? And how did Wilkof have it?
He gestured towards the ship with an odd gleam in his eyes. “Suddenly, and without warning, this spaceship came crashing down through the sky just a couple of miles away, out here, where it was just me there to see it,” he explained. “So I rushed over, I searched the wreckage… and that’s where I found it. It was only a sapling, a baby really, and it called out to me. I knew I needed to take it home, back to the lab, back for testing.”
Mar’i shook her head. How was he to have known back then that the plant was pulling his strings?
“I stashed the ship away, knowing its potential,” he confessed. “The ship’s computer confirmed its origins: Tamaran. Apparently it even used to belong to a princess named Komand’r.”
Mar’i's mind raced as she processed this revelation. Komand’r - also known as the tyrant queen Blackfire - was Koriand’r’s sister, and Mar’i’s aunt. Someone she had already come across early in her time in this universe. Then, just in time for him to answer it without her asking, Mar’i happened upon another awful question.
“I got some guys in to make repairs, and another guy to… basically hotwire the thing, before I fed them all to the plant. But the ship won’t fly without one final security measure,” continued Hunter, his gaze fixed on Mar’i. “A pilot with Tamaranean DNA.”
 
🔹🔹 🪶 🔹🔹
 
Back in the lab, Dick, Artemis and Tim continued to put the pieces together, now sans Barry who had raced off to join Wally in combing the city for either Mar’i or the Morning Eclipse, not knowing that both were far from the city limits.
“Why Mar’i?” Dick demanded. “What does Wilkof want with her? Her Starbolts could be used to fuel the plant and its cuttings, but that’d only make a difference at night, when they can’t get sunlight for themselves.”
Artemis nodded in agreement. “Surely they can survive a night without sunlight,” she surmised. “So what else would he come to Mar’i for?”
“Could it be her DNA?” posed Tim. “Maybe he has a use for DNA from a Tamanrean.”
“What kind of uses?” asked Dick. It wouldn’t be that, but his mind once again returned to the cloning vats of Cadmus. “No, it’s not that.”
“Then what else could it be?” Artemis sighed, frustrated. All of this analysis, brainstorming and scheming, and they were no closer to finding the missing Titan.
Then, Dick’s face blanched with fear. “She knows the way,” he said simply, his voice barely above a whisper.
“The way to what?” asked Tim, his own anxiety rising.
“To Tamaran,” Dick replied with dread. “A place where the sun shines bright enough for a hundred Morning Eclipses.”
 
🔹🔹 🪶 🔹🔹
 
In the dimly lit interior of what was once her aunt Komand'r's ship, Mar'i's heart raced with fear and uncertainty, now strapped into her seat beside the demented Dr Wilkof. The vessel, a marvel of Vega System technology, exuded an otherworldly aura, its sleek silver surfaces shimmering with an ethereal glow. Yet, to Mar'i, it felt more like a prison than a wonder.
She couldn't shake the sense of dread that gripped her. Tamaran, a place she once called home, now loomed before her as an unfamiliar and foreboding destination. She knew of the tumultuous history of this universe's Tamaran, the tales of military coups and the reign of the Orange Lantern Larfleeze, all of which added to her apprehension. The planet had hundreds of Morning Eclipses, but none had ever merged with a sapient vessel before. The killer plants were best survived by being completely ignored, which wouldn’t be possible with an intelligent host scheming and bringing the plants to their vulnerable prey. Could she inflict that threat on Tamaran?
Wilkof's jubilant smile did little to assuage her fears as he spoke. “When we reach the planet - with its gleaming sun - I’ll have everything I need. I'll create more Morning Eclipses, genetically superior ones, and they will bond with Tamaranean vessels to enhance their intelligence. And then there’ll be no more sacrifices, just feeding.”
Mar'i's stomach churned at the thought of being complicit in Wilkof's madness. But she also knew that she was in no position to bargain. And he knew it.
With a heavy heart and a sense of resignation, Mar'i steeled herself for the task ahead and the ship hummed to life around them, hurtling toward an uncertain destiny.
Then, as they quickly hit sonic speed, Hunter turned to his pilot and prisoner, keen to share a thought he hoped would bring her peace. “I want you to know… once we get to Tamaran, I’ll never have to return to Earth again. Don’t think about where we’re going, think about what we’re leaving behind. This is you saving planet Earth.”
 
 
Next: Sun it up in Nightwing #15
 

It candidly sucked being surrounded by constant reminders that you’d lost the genetic lottery. Sure, it was easier than some people thought to get around the world without powers; it wasn’t like the government expected everyone to be a speedster or to be able to fly. Hell, a hundred years ago, nobody even had powers. The infrastructure was there. Life went on.
That said, staying cheery about the hand I’d been dealt was difficult. Enhanced perception was useful for a lot of things, from party tricks to always reading the fine print, but next to flight? Next to teleportation?
I’d gotten hung up on movement powers because I’d taken the bus to the bar, and the only superpower buses had was being late.
I was specifically at the bar for the sake of a blind date set up by my best friend; Todd was about two times my size and could throw a car across the street. His powers did nothing to help me with his current obsession with my dating life, but here we were. I supposed it was a fair obsession. I hadn’t been trying.
It honestly made sense that Todd had been keenly aware of romance since he’d met his soul mate. See, a strange thing with powers was that when you were around your soulmate, they were inexplicably stronger. Todd had met Soo-jung when she’d been on vacation in Crescent three years ago. They’d been inseparable since, and he’d been able to throw a car down three blocks instead of across the street.
Or so he claimed. Nobody was eager to volunteer their car for a demonstration, or anything else heavy and expensive, for that matter.
For my part, I hadn’t spent a lot of time guessing what would happen if I met my soulmate. It was a common train of thought for some, but I never found that it stopped at any fun stations. Instead, I indulged Todd’s meddling because he was my friend and bad dates at least made good stories.
“Gimme a sec, I’ll grab us another round,” Todd announced as he pushed out from our table. “Emma said she’s going to be here soon.”
“You bought the last one.”
“Yeah, now you can buy two in a row once Emma gets here and look generous. Think about it, man.”
“Sure,” I answered, but Todd was already walking away from the table and toward the bar.
Soo-jung leaned in. “You know he’s trying, right?”
“I know, maybe a little too much.”
“You don’t hear the half of it.”
“Oh, good.”
“I had to tell him to calm down when it came to buttering you up to Emma,” Soo-jung explained as she took a sip from her drink. “Sometimes I wonder about him.”
“I’m surprised he says anything nice about me.”
“He’d never say it to your face.” She watched Todd at the bar instead of looking at me during our conversation.
“Does that mean you’ll do it for him?”
“He trusts me to keep his secrets.”
“How about I suggest things and read your reaction?” I asked.
Soo-jung frowned in response before she pointedly rolled her eyes. She knew that reading reactions was one of my party tricks. If you couldn’t be powerful, you could at least read a room.
“Okay, fine. What do you know about Emma?”
“Her last name’s Tavish.”
“That’s it?”
“She works with Todd.”
“I knew that. He kept telling me she was a co-worker.”
“Todd thinks she’s cute.”
“He told you that?”
“No, but he has high standards for you.”
“That’s all the detail you have?”
“Todd’s not allowed to talk about work at hom- Hey, honey.”
Todd was back at the table holding all three pints in one arm; he passed one to each of us despite Soo being less than halfway finished with her current drink. Once he’d finished distributing, he turned to Soo-jung and asked her a question in broken Korean.
He’d been trying to learn, and he was still struggling. Not that I knew the language.
“Yes,” Soo-jung responded in English, “we were talking about Emma; no Korean around Toby. It’s rude.”
“I thought you wanted me to practice?”
“You can practice at home.”
“So we were talking about Emma,” Todd jumped back to the previous topic instead of discussing his inconsistent study of Korean. “Awesome woman, perfect for you, man.”
“What makes you say that?” I asked.
“Oh, she sucks too.”
“Ah, thanks.”
“He means powers-wise,” Soo-jung stepped in.
“So you do know something about her,” I pointed out.
“Something? I’ve been telling Soo everything since we got in the car to come here.” Just as Todd finished, he flinched. Soo had kicked him under the table. “But it wasn’t much, really.”
“What do I get to know?”
“I don’t want to taint your expectations.” He pushed his empty glass away, swapping it with the new one. “But can I be serious for a second?”
I considered it. “Sure.”
“She’s like my boss’, boss’ boss. So best behavior.”
“Wait. Seriously?” I leaned in. Todd worked for the CPRU, which meant that she had to be a heavy hitter if she was high ranked in the city’s power regulation department. “She’s—”
“Not quite.” He backpedaled. “We share a building. She’s straight DPR.”
I blinked twice at that. “Way to set me up to fail.”
“You should believe in yourself,” Soo cut in.
“Todd I w—”
“And she’s here.” Todd had turned his attention away from me and toward his phone. “Hope you’re ready to meet your soulmate.”
“Honey, don’t set that expectation.”
The bar’s front door opened, and I was the only one who could hear it over the atmosphere. I glanced over, and there she was.
She was stunning by any definition, but especially mine. Maybe it was a strange way to describe someone, but she looked beautifully meticulous, from brunette hair to olive skin, to her light blue jacket; everything was in place, and everything about her was gorgeous. Assuming that was Emma, I owed Todd big time.
“Okay, that can’t be her, right?” I asked Todd. After a second, without a response, I checked to see if he was waving at her, but he was stock still, a stupid grin plastered over his face. “Todd?”
Holy shit. The DPR had some crazy people on their roster, but this- I waved a hand in front of Todd’s face and snapped my fingers, then caught the sound of a single cautious heel clicking against the floor.
I stood up from the table and looked back at the door. She’d taken one step into the bar but had gotten caught in the same shock I had. “Emma?” I asked.
She snapped her attention to me -god, her eyes were- but she just looked confused.
“Toby,” I explained, “I’m Todd’s friend.” I motioned over to Todd’s still body and took the first steps to say hello. “This is really impressive. I didn’t think this was possible. It’s cool to meet someone wh—”
“I’m not doing this,” she said. “This is impossible. How are yo—”
“Trust me, this isn’t in my…” We stared at each other for a moment. Somehow, time stopped more than it already was.
“Holy shit.” We both said it at once.
“So this isn’t you?” she asked. Her eyes were still meandering around the frozen bar instead of staying in the conversation with me.
“No, it’s not,” I walked along her gaze and ended up against the bar counter, “did Todd tell you what my power was?”
“He just told me you wouldn’t mind having me around,” Emma answered, which somehow just brought up more questions.
“Enhanced perception,” I grabbed a drink off of the bar to see if I could; As soon as I touched it, it seemed to animate back to life. “What do you mean, ‘mind having you around’?”
“I dampen powers,” she explained, a little quieter than anything else she’d said, “make them weaker, hard to use. The technical definition is long and wordy so…” She sighed as she watched me slosh the beer around. “It’s a lot of trouble, really.”
“Probably good for work,” I offered.
“Pretty much the whole reason I have my job, but Callum wouldn’t admit that.” She approached, but there wasn’t an open seat near where I was standing, nor could we ask for someone to move. “Callum is—”
“Callum Rehsman, head of the D.P.R for the past six years,” I stepped in, “sorry, comes with the perception thing.”
“Honestly, I’m just glad I don’t have to explain it,” Emma took to leaning against the bar instead of walking over to a seat. She undid the top button of her shirt, which was probably too high for a date, anyway. “Emma Terish. Ring any bells up there?”
“No.”
“And you’re?”
“Toby Vander,” I put down the beer to offer my hand, and it froze as soon as I let go. We both paid attention to that instead of the potential formal hello.
“So this isn’t you.” Emma reached for the glass and picked it up; once she did, it animated just like it had with me. “And it isn’t me…”
I swallowed nothing. We’d both said holy shit for a reason, but it felt impossible to admit it. Wasn’t there supposed to be a — Well, something? Anything?
Then again, we were stopping time, and what else could you ask for?
“Do you want a drink, Toby?” Emma asked. She vaulted herself over the bar with a frankly shocking amount of grace for someone in a pantsuit.
“Uh, sure.”
“I’d ask what you were drinking, but we might have limited options,” she was considering her new vantage point from behind the counter.
I took the opportunity to grab the drink I’d left behind on the table. “I’ll use the one I had.” I tapped Todd’s hand for posterity, and nothing happened to him. “Any idea what this might—”
“No idea,” she answered without letting me finish, “but my job involves dealing with unknown powers, so…” She tried to use the soda-gun and swore when it didn’t work. “You learn to roll with it until people cooperate.”
“You still think I’m doing this?”
“I know it’s not me, and there aren’t many options here with us,” she said as she ducked behind the bar and came back up with a lemonade cooler, “but I came here for a date, and I plan to have one. Been a long week.”
I returned to the bar, finding a seat now that she was on the other side. “I just need to establish that this isn’t me. I’m not trying to—”
“If it isn’t you and it’s not me stopping time around us, then someone is giving us a very private venue for our first date.”
“Isn’t that nice?”
“It really is.” She took a sip of her drink, then pulled it away before she had time to swallow. “Shit. Do you have cash?”
“I’ll cover you.” She frowned at that; clearly she wasn’t satisfied with someone else paying for everything. “Plus, you’re serving me tonight. So…” That seemed to be enough plausible deniability to satisfy her. “Cheers?”
“Cheers.”
Throughout drink one, we were casting nervous glances around the paused bar; by drink five, we were laughing, just the two of us. Hours dripped by with the free beer… or they didn’t… It was hard to tell.
Emma added her sixth can to her pyramid and composed herself. “Okay, okay, okay. One second.” She took a deep breath. “This has been so much fun, but I told Todd I’d tell him when I got here so” — she needed another second to find her verbal footing — “can you stop this now?”
“Stop what?” I was halfway through a sip.
“This is the coolest power I’ve seen but—”
“It’s not me, I promise,” my insistence ended up sounding more like a drunk debate. The drunk part was accurate.
“So your power really is enhanced perception.”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Okay. You’re not lying.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because that’s lame and—” She stopped herself. “Shit, sorry.”
“I am so used to it.”
“You wouldn’t say that drunk if you could stop time is my point,” she almost ducked down to grab another drink but thought better of it. “So, that makes us…”
We’d reached this impasse several times in the last hours. I scanned her. The lines on her face. The size of her irises. She was worried. Apprehensive.
So I said it first.
“We’re soul mates.”
She looked down and to the left, considering instead of answering.
“Why else would one of us display a power we’d never seen before? Unless you’re right and someone was stopping time for everyone but me and—”
“And the woman who’s immune to powers,” she cut in. “Maybe we are soul mates, but turn it off.”
“It’s not—”
“Toby, please.”
“I don’t—” I stopped short and instead tried even though I didn’t know how. My perception was passive. I didn’t get to choose whether I used it. Was there supposed to be a switch somewhere inside my head? Was I—
How long had it been at this point? Six, seven hours? We’d planned to meet pretty late and it would almost be light out by now. She was right. We had to get—
“I don’t know how,” I admitted, “if it’s me.”
Emma opened her mouth to say something, then reconsidered. Her perfectly manicured nails were digging into the vinyl of the bar top.
“Okay. It’s been lovely, but if you getting here started this then,” I said as I stood up, “maybe I just need to leave, and that will turn it off so we can figure out what’s going on.” I took the first steps toward the door.
“That’s a good plan,” she nodded along with what she was saying, like she was convincing herself, “I’ll reach out to you. It was an excellent date.”
“Let Todd know for me,” I added as I reached the door; a second later, I stepped into the chilled early-fall air. The door didn’t shut behind me, so I kept walking until I would have been out of eyesight.
Then I stopped.
Should I have turned around? What were the chances that she was my soul mate? What was I leaving behind if I didn’t see her again? It was a dumb thought, but the idea of walking away started gnawing at me.
But what choice did I have? In front of me, a couple was frozen in the middle of a quiet conversation on the way to the bar. Soul mates only affected one another when they were close by. I took a few more steps and started to sprint.
I was three blocks away when the world stuttered around me. My vision blurred, and the moonlight was shattered by the sun. I stumbled, almost crashing into a woman dressed like she was on her way to brunch.
Shit. I’d left my jacket at the bar, but—
I checked my watch; 8:06 AM.
​
------
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Hi there!
I have been casually lurking this sub-reddit since before I reverted to Islam last year in September, as well as a number of other Islam-themed sub-reddits.
In this sub specifically, as well as a few others, I have appreciated the entertaining and informative discourse established by the seemingly open-minded and critical denizens.
JazakAllah khair, fam.
I figured I would introduce myself, as I'm at a point in my study of the Quran and Islam where I believe open discussion of my thoughts and knowledge, (or perhaps lackthereof? 🧐 The more you know, the less you know.), would be beneficial rather than overly influential.
Anywho. My name is Marisa, or نهى 🤷‍♀️. I'm 30 years old. I live in the Bay Area of California and have since I was 18. I moved out here alone, without connections, and built a decent little life for myself. I'm still studying (Civil Eng.) but currently work for a CE drafting and doing occasional field work. I skateboard, bike, read, write, make art, etcetcetc. The two truths I have found in this life are Islam and to seek knowledge insatiably.
Around the end of 2022/beginning of 2023, I found myself with a lot of friends either born in or whose family is from the MENA region. Various places: Tunisia, Palestine, Iraq, Egypt, Morocco, Algeria, Syria, Lebanon, etc. Most are Muslim, الحمد لله 🥰. Given that it's in my nature to seek knowledge, I sought to reconcile the fact that I knew nothing about Islam.
My religious background: I was raised "loosely" Christian. My parents believed in God but didn't really talk about God or go to church. My mom would talk a tiny bit about God with me and I remember saying this prayer before bed well into my teens with her:
"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. If I shall die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take."
Beside that, throughout my childhood also into my early teens, I would go to church with friends. I think a Catholic church once, but mostly Baptist and Protestant IIRC. I even joined youth group a couple of times.
The thing is though, that Christianity never really spoke to me, even though I believed in God. I just couldn't connect with it for no other reason I can think of, than that God was preserving my faith for Islam.
Around the age of 15, I remember telling my father I thought I was an atheist. He acted upset and told me "We believe in God," but didn't have much to say when I said "Since when? You never talk about God."
Fast forward to 18 or 19, and I started calling myself agnostic. My reasoning for this change was the acceptance of the reality of metaphysical phenomena. I was tired of deluding myself to the existence of something outside our understanding, though not ready to accept that I believed in our monotheistic God, the only Lord, Allah subhana wa ta’ala. (Fun fact: When things were terrible and when things were fantastic, I prayed to Allah, even when I called myself an atheist.)
And I stayed that way until I began reading the Quran, hadith, opinion pieces from casual studies, articles and discussions from scholars, from sources across the board. Sunni, Shia, Quranists, ex-Muslims, etc etc.
And I found myself drawn to Islam. For one, it made me finally admit to myself that I believed in God.
Further, the message I was receiving from the Quran was one of ethics, love(in all its forms, fierce and tender), knowledge-seeking, reciprocity, and patience, and so much more as my studies will not cease until I die ان شاء الله .
The tipping point from being drawn by to diving into Islam was what I can only explain as guidance directly from Allah SWT.
I was up late reading Surah an-Nisa. I had finished reading the following ayah, which I had resonated with and was feeling deeply at that moment.
After reading those, I was thinking over them and ready to sleep, I went to put my Quran down. As I did, it flipped open to the page with the Shahada on it. Seeing it, I had a very strong, sudden, and urgent feeling that I needed to take my Shahada. I want to say my intuition was pushing me, but it was different, outside of myself, and far stronger. So I did. I took my Shahada and fell asleep knowing I had done the right thing. Later, I said my Shahada with Muslim witnesses, of course, though not at a masjid.
Since then, I have been content with my choice and endlessly grateful to Allah SWT for His guidance الحمد لله ❤️
For further clarity on my particular stance within Islam, I identify purely as a Muslim and do not associate myself with any sects or school of thought. I take information from everywhere, and my research always goes back to the Quran. I am not a native Arabic speaker, although I'm slowly learning ان شاء الله (And am actually starting lessons soon, الحمد لله), so I often use friends (from all over and who identify within different Islamic schools of thought) as translators when I deep dive verses, hadith, etc, as well as multiple Arabic-English dictionaries, a Quranic Root index, and varying sources of interpretation.
I have not formed any particular blanket opinion about any sect or school of thought at this point, though find some sect-associated acts to be contrary to what we're taught in the Quran.
I am highly skeptical of Hadiths (including the science behind the chains of transmission), though I do not dismiss them entirely. Some are bound to be accurate at best, and indicative of socio-political conditions/individual and group character at worst.
I am deeply curious, though currently ill-informed, about the long-term effect that the first 4 caliphs, as well as the Ummayid and Abbasid caliphates had on the Ummah and our collective understanding of Islamic history, and subsequently our understanding of Islam.
Not sure what else to put on here besides what I already have.
Oh, I have two cats. Ada and Marie. They're named after scientists. If you can guess who they're named after, I'll think you're really cool, مل شاء الله 👌
Also #freepalestine
The ayah from an-Nisa, with Yusef Ali translation:
{ ۞وَٱعۡبُدُواْ ٱللَّهَ وَلَا تُشۡرِكُواْ بِهِۦ شَيۡـٔٗاۖ وَبِٱلۡوَٰلِدَيۡنِ إِحۡسَٰنٗا وَبِذِي ٱلۡقُرۡبَىٰ وَٱلۡيَتَٰمَىٰ وَٱلۡمَسَٰكِينِ وَٱلۡجَارِ ذِي ٱلۡقُرۡبَىٰ وَٱلۡجَارِ ٱلۡجُنُبِ وَٱلصَّاحِبِ بِٱلۡجَنۢبِ وَٱبۡنِ ٱلسَّبِيلِ وَمَا مَلَكَتۡ أَيۡمَٰنُكُمۡۗ إِنَّ ٱللَّهَ لَا يُحِبُّ مَن كَانَ مُخۡتَالٗا فَخُورًا } [Surah An-Nisāʾ: 36]
Serve Allah, and join not any partners with Him; and do good- to parents, kinsfolk, orphans, those in need, neighbours who are near, neighbours who are strangers, the companion by your side, the wayfarer (ye meet), and what your right hands possess: For Allah loveth not the arrogant, the vainglorious;-
{ ٱلَّذِينَ يَبۡخَلُونَ وَيَأۡمُرُونَ ٱلنَّاسَ بِٱلۡبُخۡلِ وَيَكۡتُمُونَ مَآ ءَاتَىٰهُمُ ٱللَّهُ مِن فَضۡلِهِۦۗ وَأَعۡتَدۡنَا لِلۡكَٰفِرِينَ عَذَابٗا مُّهِينٗا } [Surah An-Nisāʾ: 37]
(Nor) those who are niggardly or enjoin niggardliness on others, or hide the bounties which Allah hath bestowed on them; for We have prepared, for those who resist Faith, a punishment that steeps them in contempt;-
{ وَٱلَّذِينَ يُنفِقُونَ أَمۡوَٰلَهُمۡ رِئَآءَ ٱلنَّاسِ وَلَا يُؤۡمِنُونَ بِٱللَّهِ وَلَا بِٱلۡيَوۡمِ ٱلۡأٓخِرِۗ وَمَن يَكُنِ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنُ لَهُۥ قَرِينٗا فَسَآءَ قَرِينٗا } [Surah An-Nisāʾ: 38]
Not those who spend of their substance, to be seen of men, but have no faith in Allah and the Last Day: If any take the Evil One for their intimate, what a dreadful intimate he is!
{ وَمَاذَا عَلَيۡهِمۡ لَوۡ ءَامَنُواْ بِٱللَّهِ وَٱلۡيَوۡمِ ٱلۡأٓخِرِ وَأَنفَقُواْ مِمَّا رَزَقَهُمُ ٱللَّهُۚ وَكَانَ ٱللَّهُ بِهِمۡ عَلِيمًا } [Surah An-Nisāʾ: 39]
And what burden Were it on them if they had faith in Allah and in the Last Day, and they spent out of what Allah hath given them for sustenance? For Allah hath full knowledge of them.
{ إِنَّ ٱللَّهَ لَا يَظۡلِمُ مِثۡقَالَ ذَرَّةٖۖ وَإِن تَكُ حَسَنَةٗ يُضَٰعِفۡهَا وَيُؤۡتِ مِن لَّدُنۡهُ أَجۡرًا عَظِيمٗا } [Surah An-Nisāʾ: 40]
Allah is never unjust in the least degree: If there is any good (done), He doubleth it, and giveth from His own presence a great reward.
{ فَكَيۡفَ إِذَا جِئۡنَا مِن كُلِّ أُمَّةِۭ بِشَهِيدٖ وَجِئۡنَا بِكَ عَلَىٰ هَٰٓؤُلَآءِ شَهِيدٗا } [Surah An-Nisāʾ: 41]
How then if We brought from each people a witness, and We brought thee as a witness against these people!
{ يَوۡمَئِذٖ يَوَدُّ ٱلَّذِينَ كَفَرُواْ وَعَصَوُاْ ٱلرَّسُولَ لَوۡ تُسَوَّىٰ بِهِمُ ٱلۡأَرۡضُ وَلَا يَكۡتُمُونَ ٱللَّهَ حَدِيثٗا } [Surah An-Nisāʾ: 42]
On that day those who reject Faith and disobey the messenger will wish that the earth Were made one with them: But never will they hide a single fact from Allah!

This is the most plausible answer. I think this is exactly how he did it using facts from sermons, emails, texts, news, interviews, maps, and extensive experience with parasitic Narcissistic sitic abuse. If there is anything that I am incorrect on please let me know and I will recalculate. After typing this up two days ago, I stumbled upon Mica’s father‘s interview, and it completely solidified it to the point where I started violently shaking. I think this is what happened.
I was told Winslow‘s property backs up against that state forest. 200 acres. Right down the road. Now remember. Somebody on his staff was told to go and trim back the overgrowth on that specific property shortly before all of this happened,
I think Mica at some point had conversation with Winslow and agreed to come and talk to him at his property, a “safe place JP wouldn’t know.”, thinking she could trust him. I think mica went to winslows and JP was waiting there for unknowingly.
I think Winslow has JP‘s phone and I think JP has Winslow‘s phone so they’re not gonna ping the towers. All they saw was the license plate they never verified He was actually there.
I think JP and Winslow met at a undisclosed location and swapped vehicles. JP went up to Winslow’s NC property with Winslow‘s vehicle and cell phone, and Winslow went down south with JP cell phone and truck. I can’t quite place the girlfriend, but she is an alibi therefore she is aware that something has happened or is going on. I cannot figure out whether or not Winslow was with JP and she took the vehicle down south either or we need to find out the location of where the girlfriend was and where Winslow was. That could all be found by bank financial records of the days in question. Nobody uses cash in 2024 for an entire getaway.
Didn’t they say he got a new truck? There was something new about the truck? Did he get a new one so it wouldn’t have any of Winslow’s DNA inside of it? If Winslow drove it, his DNA/finger prints on the steering wheel would easily be on the steering wheel. Why else would he need to drive Winslow‘s vehicle if there were indications, he was driving the vehicle. Now remember one of them is a lawyer he knows what they look for. JP‘s and Winslow‘s vehicles both need to be tested for gunpowder residue.
Mica shows up to Winslow’s property, JP is there with Winslow’s vehicle, ambushes her OR Winslow is there too and the girlfriend took her phone and truck south. He already has a plan of where he’s going to take her to unalive her before she arrives. JP drives Mica’s car with Mica in it to the final location parking lot, walks her into the woods kills her, puts her stuff down and walks back to Winslow property through the woods. Girlfriend says she was with him, I think she stayed at the property or she drove a vehicle to come get him after he was done if she was there. either way Winslow or girlfriend somebody picked him up or was waiting or he went back to the property and gotten Winslow‘s vehicle and left. Remember it’s not that far away..
Now, after reviewing the 911 recording again, I do not think it is AI. The biggest reason why I know it wasn’t AI is because if you listen to the fast response when asked for the phone number, there wasn’t enough time to record that and send it at the same time. So she replied too fast. Now, when have you ever heard a 911 operator asking somebody for their phone number? That never would have been written. You still have the type stuff in the AI creators. Also, she delayed pause between every number, how would she have replied in half the time it would have taken to type all of that out. Think about it, he would have had to type a number hit space type a number hit space over and over. In a rush I know I mess up you don’t think he would have messed up? He never would have been able to get that recorded smoothly quickly in the time it took for her to respond. Again, when have you ever heard of 911 asking for your phone number?. I believe he is in the car with her after they just left Winslows property. I believe he’s sitting right next to her in the car and allows her to make the call thinking it’s going to cover up everything and benefit him. She was sending out the whistle to her family and She’s trying to buy time for them to locate her. He knew to turn off the location because she mentioned She turned it on notice how it ended at that?. My point with this is at the end.
Logically speaking if she was purposely driving to that park, she would have known the name to GPS it. She would’ve known the name of the park to give the operator. That’s why she was pausing, probably looking to him to see where they’re at. That’s why she says “yes that’s it” cause he nodded. he had enough time to process what the operator was saying before Mica was able to answer that’s why she was able to reply quickly because the operator was speaking slowly. He heard the first word and nodded. She didn’t know, but now suddenly she knew? If she was going to purposely take her own life, and she really wanted her body found, why wouldn’t she have found the name of the park before she called to give them proper location?
She would have seen oh look it’s a park and read the sign and pulled into it. She didn’t know the sign because she was terrified because he was with her. She just knows she’s in a park.
I would possibly look to see if there was any dirt roads that led to where her vehicle is at back to Winslow’s property. That might be why she didn’t see a sign. I haven’t looked too much into that part but it’s a suggestion if anybody wants to do any homework.
SO That’s why the phone was put on airplane mode so cops wouldn’t track them into the woods at the site of the incident and he would be able to get away in time into the woods without being seen.
Also airplane mode was turned on while in the car, at the end of the 911 call, I think he took the phone put the airplane mode on which is why the airplane mode was put on because she mentioned it out loud specifically, he knew the cops were coming time to MOVE, can’t follow us to the woods though. THATS why there’s no bird sounds, they did it in the car after they got to the parking lot. I think subconsciously she thought knew this was going to happen. Kinda like I told my family this was going to happen, and then it clicked what she needed to do. He brought the phone with them to paint the picture. Why would she turn off her location herself if she wanted to be found? She was already going to enter her life right? She was obviously not going to wait a long time right? Listen to her voice when it got emotional when she said she was going to kill herself. If she was unsure, why did she skip up in the exact moment? She was almost free, she had fought so hard. When you’re almost free, what would make you think she would want to stop now? Listen to me clearly, he was in the car. She needed to send out a dog whistle to the people she had told she she told him she would admit to the suicide if she could have her body found. She knew she was going to die and she knew she needed to make sure her family could piece this together. Therefore the only plausible answer is he was in the car with her. She was emotionless probably because the gun was already on her, the phone was removed from her because she mentioned the airplane mode specifically he thought they can’t trace us out to the woods, airplane mode goes on. He walked out to the woods. He needed Time to get away and couldn’t have them knowing exactly where he was to go to first so he could escape right after.
Now he goes into the woods by possibly dragging her which is why she has a bruised wrist. That might be why she started crying. She might have tried to get away when she knew what was going to happen or that it was happening hence why there’s multiple rounds. This led to possible yanking, and then the gunshot, which is why the fisherman heard the crying. Then it was over. Put her in the water he placed her belongings and Then he walked back towards Winslow‘s property. I want to know if there’s a phone call between mica and Winslow, was this drive scheduled day of or days prior and gave enough time for it to be planned. I believe at that time he got back into Winslow’s vehicle met somewhere with Windlow switched vehicles again. JP going to his home and Winslow going back to his home. The funeral and everything was already preplanned and scheduled due to the fact they already knew what was going to happen and already had it pre-planned and needed to make sure it was swift and left no room for delay. Her family, knowing they would want to see her, he manipulated them into signing the cremation holding her body over their heads. Taunting them via text message blaming them to create the narrative. Otherwise, what would be the big deal of allowing them to see the body without needing something in exchange? He knew they would have questions afterwards. At that time all they had was the 911 call and a body, sometimes you need time to process. You know when something happens and then later on you’re like wait what? He wanted to make sure that body had no stop on the cremation process to get rid of all evidence before thosequestions inevitably came. He got ahead of it so there was no hiccup in delays because he knew he had to allow them to see the body to the public that would be the moral right thing to do. Not allowing them to see the body would be suspicious. He figured out how to make it work for both. He talks about laying with her body four times and trying to raise her from the dead, was this guilt or was it like when somebody puts a deer head on the wall?
Now remember, she has already been predisposed to trust Winslow. He mentions Winslow in an email to her previously, obviously showing that he & his wife were a trusted friend of hers as well. It’s 100% a possibility that Winslow told her to come up and talk where she was protected and JP wouldn’t find them, and Winslow left with the truck and met with JP and they switched. Winslow south, JP north. Winslow had asked his staff to clean up that overgrowth on the property. It being a wooded area, was this done so that the roadway was assessable for the plan? she probably drove down some type of dirt road, and he ambushed her in some manner. North Carolina Woods are dense, therefore easily to hide when she pulls over.
Now, how do I think that JP convinced Winslow to help, I believe JP convinced Winslow , Mica was going to tell on all of them and ruin their lives. This could have been backed up by the fact that all the documentation that she had previously collected had gone missing, and was brought to Winslow to paint Mica as an enemy so this was enough for him to convince Winslow that their future and freedom was inJeopardy. When JP was actually afraid she was going to tell on his abuse and life and ruin him. So they killed her to protect their life.
They said something yesterday about breaking news how they found that the notary was forged? Thats enough for me to draw speculation because it was done by Winslow that he is now in on the dirty dealings. He is a part of the actual dirty dealings against mica He knows something is being done wrong and he is condoning it.
That notary that was done on the power of attorney from mica was falsely notarized. Mica was not present for the notary. There was an article on earlier I was looking at but I was in information overload. I just know It was not legally notarized. This shows that Winslow does not have integrity. How far is he willing to go to protect JP and all of their secrets?
I think she told JP she just wanted her body to be found for her family and she would go without a fight. I believe that it was a dog whistle to her family. The clue they would need to know this wasn’t suicide. She told them and now she needed them to remember. She knew she was going to die and everybody needed to know about the gunshot specifically that she warned everyone about days prior. He didn’t know she told people close to her that that. That’s why her voice broke up when she said she was going to unalive herself. She did not want to die. She just wanted people to be able to solve the crime. She manipulated him into thinking he was going to get away with this because she is admitting to it being a suicide. Not knowing She had whistled what was going to happen, she needed people to listen. She offered up no extra information during the 911 call which then delayed the process hoping they would find her location. She told her dad days prior she’s getting a gun for protection. I think she got it before she drove up there just incase and the bruises on her hand may be him wrestling it from her. Maybe at arrival.
A search and rescue dog can smell from weeks to months after somebody has left the area, and if anybody can get something of his and be able to place him there in the woods, you have convincing beyond a reasonable doubt.
After writing this up yesterday when I was complete, I got super sick to my stomach. I was shaking. I could see it completely out in my head where all the facts completely aligned. I believe tthis is the only plausible theory there is.
What people need to realize at the end of the day the good attention and bad attention is still attention to a narcissist. He is enjoying the intention is getting from this primarily from getting away with it. That’s why I believe he visited her body four times after she was deceased. Because he already had a girlfriend, he already talked about going and getting a hot wife and then after she dies, he does an interview about how she’s the most incredible wife and supportive. He made the obituary about how awesome he thought she was to still collect her validation and the validation he got from being her husband because she was good. She was light and he was jealous of that. He wanted that that’s why he had that position. She loved him so much he claimed and how she was so wonderful he claimed yet she didn’t want him when she had a no contact order and wanted a divorce obviously, he wasn’t that. and if you guys don’t think he groomed her go to the memorial of life sermon and listen to the poem again. Now switch the words, “school” and “church.” And follow the story line.
He killed Mica Miller.

So usual disclaimer, I'm on mobile and I'm still pissed.
My uncle who I'll refer to as Q, has a lung disease that has progressed since he was initially diagnosed. I can't remember the name of it but it has caused him to be in severe pain and requiring a lung transplant. He was put on the transplant list over a year ago and now needs oxygen just to breathe. He has a portable oxygen concentrator he has been flying with since he first got it with no problems from the airline he flies with. It's FAA approved, prescribed, and he always carries his paperwork with him when he flies just in case.
Tuesday he was informed that they found a donor and scheduled his surgery for the next day (Wednesday). His flight was originally supposed to leave at 5am with him being scheduled for surgery at 8am. No problem, flight booked my uncle Q, my aunt (his wife) and my other aunt and uncle (his brother) get to the airport, get through TSA with no problem, and then get to the terminal where the problem begins.
My uncle and aunt make it on the flight and after a while they notice that my uncle Q still hasn't boarded. Turns out a fairly new supervisor at the airline terminal is denying my uncle boarding stating he can't have his oxygen concentrator on the plane and that he would have to either check it or not fly. Mind you my uncle has been flying back and forth to the clinic with this same concentrator for well over a year, never denied. Nah supervisor is saying no dice. To someone going to have life saving surgery and needs said oxygen to literally breathe.
My uncle Q is understandably upset and is in tears as this bitch is being rude, cruel, and basically a bitch. My uncle misses his flight. My aunt calls the clinic because my uncle just wants to give up and go back home. His doctors basically beg him to come while the ticket and gate agent are arguing with the supervisor that his concentrator is FAA approved and meets their guidelines and policies. She is of course refusing to listen stating that just because he's flown before doesn't mean he's allowed to fly now and that someone wasn't doing their job correctly.
The mention of a lawsuit and a complaint being filed to corporate finally has her snatching the paperwork from his hand that he's been trying to show since the beginning. It's only then that she finally relents albeit too late for his originally scheduled flight. He's told he can get on the next flight a few hours later. His surgery was scheduled for 8am, he went into surgery at 6pm Wed, they should have finished fifty minutes ago.
As for me, I'm petty. She almost cost my uncle his life because of her ego. So now I'm about to cost her her livelihood. May be odds be never in her favor.

So my story goes I had a friend for two years who lived next door. We had feelings for each other and she’d come and hang out with me most of the week after work or other projects. She dated someone and I took back my feelings and he came to live at the house and we remain friends for that year,
after they broke up, she came back to my world and spend more time with me and then at some moment she began to undress and sit patiently next to me as we explored a bit of foreplay.
I asked her. I’d like to kiss her and she accepted and we made very passionate love that night , in the following days we juggle between friendship and feelings and then over the three months we got quite close but she was leaving to go to another country and in that time she was arranged to meet someone who they’ve been having conversation over the phone,
a little bit confused I continue to engage with this woman who is my friend who we had a very understanding Connection and clear communication or should I step away?
There was a few signs that gave me that possibility that she was either not feeling anything or it was just platonic However on our way down before I said I would take it to the airport.
We spent more time together. I met her family and we journey closer again in the feelings of making love and exchanging words. now we never had been in a relationship status more situationship knowing that she was going to Costa Rica , and possibly going to meet someone else there as she was going away for six months she left her stuff in my house and she said that she would not see anyone when she’s there.
I kinda did not believe that but I had to accept as I was giving her a lot of my attention more than she was giving me. I started to sense and perhaps maybe I’m just being used and that her previous partner who I knew well also felt this with her and she was not being honest.
When that came she was feeling nervous and I asked her. Why are you feeling nervous? She said it’s because I am falling in love with you and I can’t do that.
I need to go away and don’t want to make this difficult for myself then I mentioned what about those other times she mentioned? Why do you think I was pulling away? It’s because I did not want to get attached and I did not want you to get attached because I’m going to Costa Rica
she made that very clear and that she wanted us to enjoy our time but keep it in a level of friendship.
I accepted but as she left I grew a deeper feelings and I was growing deep in the language of love using our pet names that we gave for each other , I wondered why however she never asked me to come to Costa Rica. I was capable of doing so I started to think. Maybe the other man was also the back of her mind and she had a possible connection with him over the conversations they had
providing her with a safe note to somewhere to stay as well as more financially secure than me two months later I sent her a call telling her I missed her.
I loved her and she replied. Hello Friend I have met someone now and and what turned into a friendship is blossoming into something more and now we are journey together love and light.
In that moment I had a freak out and mentioned to her well. Why didn’t you tell me it Was growing into something more weeks before why now …,
Her reply was because we were not boyfriend. girlfriend
She didn’t feel like she had to tell me anything about this man
I was well. We were just together for the last few months plus we were exchanging on the phone.
I don’t mind that you met someone but I don’t feel you really let me know in a thoughtful way for I had feelings she replied. I respect you had feelings
I was taken back by her wording as I was not really feeling the connection that we had before and the communication was poor and she always said she valued communication deeply. I felt like she was not been living up to that word so I text her again telling her well I don’t feel like you have communicated very clearly and almost feel like you’ve shut that down
Again she replied and her perspective. She did communicate Cleary in the beginning that she just wanted to be friends valued or friendship and and not meant to be hurtful. And that was it from there.
the classic response
I did the silly approach by Textung her. I loved her and all that jazz I realise there’s not much more I could do so I blocked her and removed her from Instagram and she was upset saying why did I do that? I told her because I don’t want to see someone I cared about in love being with someone else in the texting and so On it will suck .
just clearly putting up some of my boundaries she felt a little bit upset that I could not see this as a friendship and asked if she would take her things. I replied. You’re welcome to keep her things here and we’ll see each other later throughout the life enjoy your timing Costa Rica have fun and be well and I will see you again I’m sure and things have gone quiet.
Unfortunately I went on her Instagram to reconnect with her and I saw the love exchange with another man and from that point I’ve been working on myself trying to realise that perhaps there could be something more for us in the future or just to walk away from this ,
because it is a difficult situation for me right now seeing them in a romantic situation together or imagining them being together and myself struggling in a space where was spending a lot of time with her so what should I do in this situation? Should I just keep it as friendship and keep it open for possibility in the future if she takes comes back or do I just step away and just move on with my life and not worry too much about it and just remain friends?
It’s a bit confusing because I do feel quite deep for her and it’s quite upsetting that she doesn’t feel the same way at least I don’t feel she does cause she’s in Costa Rica having fun great job and she’s met someone fresh
part of me that the relationship was a rebound and the reason she didn’t want to go deeper within this type of relationship is that she may have felt she needed this time and place to go to Costa Rica just to let go of her story that was quite hurtful for her here and I also remind her of that story .due to the location I live ..
it’s been a month now and she did not text me

This is the most plausible answer. I think this is exactly how he did it using facts from sermons, emails, texts, news, interviews, maps, and extensive experience with parasitic Narcissistic sitic abuse. If there is anything that I am incorrect on please let me know and I will recalculate. After typing this up two days ago, I stumbled upon Mica’s father‘s interview, and it completely solidified it to the point where I started violently shaking. I think this is what happened.
I was told Winslow‘s property backs up against that state forest. 200 acres. Right down the road. Now remember. Somebody on his staff was told to go and trim back the overgrowth on that specific property shortly before all of this happened,
I think Mica at some point had conversation with Winslow and agreed to come and talk to him at his property, a “safe place JP wouldn’t know.”, thinking she could trust him. I think mica went to winslows and JP was waiting there for unknowingly.
I think Winslow has JP‘s phone and I think JP has Winslow‘s phone so they’re not gonna ping the towers. All they saw was the license plate they never verified He was actually there.
I think JP and Winslow met at a undisclosed location and swapped vehicles. JP went up to Winslow’s NC property with Winslow‘s vehicle and cell phone, and Winslow went down south with JP cell phone and truck. I can’t quite place the girlfriend, but she is an alibi therefore she is aware that something has happened or is going on. I cannot figure out whether or not Winslow was with JP and she took the vehicle down south either or we need to find out the location of where the girlfriend was and where Winslow was. That could all be found by bank financial records of the days in question. Nobody uses cash in 2024 for an entire getaway.
Didn’t they say he got a new truck? There was something new about the truck? Did he get a new one so it wouldn’t have any of Winslow’s DNA inside of it? If Winslow drove it, his DNA/finger prints on the steering wheel would easily be on the steering wheel. Why else would he need to drive Winslow‘s vehicle if there were indications, he was driving the vehicle. Now remember one of them is a lawyer he knows what they look for. JP‘s and Winslow‘s vehicles both need to be tested for gunpowder residue.
Mica shows up to Winslow’s property, JP is there with Winslow’s vehicle, ambushes her OR Winslow is there too and the girlfriend took her phone and truck south. He already has a plan of where he’s going to take her to unalive her before she arrives. JP drives Mica’s car with Mica in it to the final location parking lot, walks her into the woods kills her, puts her stuff down and walks back to Winslow property through the woods. Girlfriend says she was with him, I think she stayed at the property or she drove a vehicle to come get him after he was done if she was there. either way Winslow or girlfriend somebody picked him up or was waiting or he went back to the property and gotten Winslow‘s vehicle and left. Remember it’s not that far away..
Now, after reviewing the 911 recording again, I do not think it is AI. The biggest reason why I know it wasn’t AI is because if you listen to the fast response when asked for the phone number, there wasn’t enough time to record that and send it at the same time. So she replied too fast. Now, when have you ever heard a 911 operator asking somebody for their phone number? That never would have been written. You still have the type stuff in the AI creators. Also, she delayed pause between every number, how would she have replied in half the time it would have taken to type all of that out. Think about it, he would have had to type a number hit space type a number hit space over and over. In a rush I know I mess up you don’t think he would have messed up? He never would have been able to get that recorded smoothly quickly in the time it took for her to respond. Again, when have you ever heard of 911 asking for your phone number?. I believe he is in the car with her after they just left Winslows property. I believe he’s sitting right next to her in the car and allows her to make the call thinking it’s going to cover up everything and benefit him. She was sending out the whistle to her family and She’s trying to buy time for them to locate her. He knew to turn off the location because she mentioned She turned it on notice how it ended at that?. My point with this is at the end.
Logically speaking if she was purposely driving to that park, she would have known the name to GPS it. She would’ve known the name of the park to give the operator. That’s why she was pausing, probably looking to him to see where they’re at. That’s why she says “yes that’s it” cause he nodded. he had enough time to process what the operator was saying before Mica was able to answer that’s why she was able to reply quickly because the operator was speaking slowly. He heard the first word and nodded. She didn’t know, but now suddenly she knew? If she was going to purposely take her own life, and she really wanted her body found, why wouldn’t she have found the name of the park before she called to give them proper location?
She would have seen oh look it’s a park and read the sign and pulled into it. She didn’t know the sign because she was terrified because he was with her. She just knows she’s in a park.
I would possibly look to see if there was any dirt roads that led to where her vehicle is at back to Winslow’s property. That might be why she didn’t see a sign. I haven’t looked too much into that part but it’s a suggestion if anybody wants to do any homework.
SO That’s why the phone was put on airplane mode so cops wouldn’t track them into the woods at the site of the incident and he would be able to get away in time into the woods without being seen.
Also airplane mode was turned on while in the car, at the end of the 911 call, I think he took the phone put the airplane mode on which is why the airplane mode was put on because she mentioned it out loud specifically, he knew the cops were coming time to MOVE, can’t follow us to the woods though. THATS why there’s no bird sounds, they did it in the car after they got to the parking lot. I think subconsciously she thought knew this was going to happen. Kinda like I told my family this was going to happen, and then it clicked what she needed to do. He brought the phone with them to paint the picture. Why would she turn off her location herself if she wanted to be found? She was already going to enter her life right? She was obviously not going to wait a long time right? Listen to her voice when it got emotional when she said she was going to kill herself. If she was unsure, why did she skip up in the exact moment? She was almost free, she had fought so hard. When you’re almost free, what would make you think she would want to stop now? Listen to me clearly, he was in the car. She needed to send out a dog whistle to the people she had told she she told him she would admit to the suicide if she could have her body found. She knew she was going to die and she knew she needed to make sure her family could piece this together. Therefore the only plausible answer is he was in the car with her. She was emotionless probably because the gun was already on her, the phone was removed from her because she mentioned the airplane mode specifically he thought they can’t trace us out to the woods, airplane mode goes on. He walked out to the woods. He needed Time to get away and couldn’t have them knowing exactly where he was to go to first so he could escape right after.
Now he goes into the woods by possibly dragging her which is why she has a bruised wrist. That might be why she started crying. She might have tried to get away when she knew what was going to happen or that it was happening hence why there’s multiple rounds. This led to possible yanking, and then the gunshot, which is why the fisherman heard the crying. Then it was over. Put her in the water he placed her belongings and Then he walked back towards Winslow‘s property. I want to know if there’s a phone call between mica and Winslow, was this drive scheduled day of or days prior and gave enough time for it to be planned. I believe at that time he got back into Winslow’s vehicle met somewhere with Windlow switched vehicles again. JP going to his home and Winslow going back to his home. The funeral and everything was already preplanned and scheduled due to the fact they already knew what was going to happen and already had it pre-planned and needed to make sure it was swift and left no room for delay. Her family, knowing they would want to see her, he manipulated them into signing the cremation holding her body over their heads. Taunting them via text message blaming them to create the narrative. Otherwise, what would be the big deal of allowing them to see the body without needing something in exchange? He knew they would have questions afterwards. At that time all they had was the 911 call and a body, sometimes you need time to process. You know when something happens and then later on you’re like wait what? He wanted to make sure that body had no stop on the cremation process to get rid of all evidence before thosequestions inevitably came. He got ahead of it so there was no hiccup in delays because he knew he had to allow them to see the body to the public that would be the moral right thing to do. Not allowing them to see the body would be suspicious. He figured out how to make it work for both. He talks about laying with her body four times and trying to raise her from the dead, was this guilt or was it like when somebody puts a deer head on the wall?
Now remember, she has already been predisposed to trust Winslow. He mentions Winslow in an email to her previously, obviously showing that he & his wife were a trusted friend of hers as well. It’s 100% a possibility that Winslow told her to come up and talk where she was protected and JP wouldn’t find them, and Winslow left with the truck and met with JP and they switched. Winslow south, JP north. Winslow had asked his staff to clean up that overgrowth on the property. It being a wooded area, was this done so that the roadway was assessable for the plan? she probably drove down some type of dirt road, and he ambushed her in some manner. North Carolina Woods are dense, therefore easily to hide when she pulls over.
Now, how do I think that JP convinced Winslow to help, I believe JP convinced Winslow , Mica was going to tell on all of them and ruin their lives. This could have been backed up by the fact that all the documentation that she had previously collected had gone missing, and was brought to Winslow to paint Mica as an enemy so this was enough for him to convince Winslow that their future and freedom was inJeopardy. When JP was actually afraid she was going to tell on his abuse and life and ruin him. So they killed her to protect their life.
They said something yesterday about breaking news how they found that the notary was forged? Thats enough for me to draw speculation because it was done by Winslow that he is now in on the dirty dealings. He is a part of the actual dirty dealings against mica He knows something is being done wrong and he is condoning it.
That notary that was done on the power of attorney from mica was falsely notarized. Mica was not present for the notary. There was an article on earlier I was looking at but I was in information overload. I just know It was not legally notarized. This shows that Winslow does not have integrity. How far is he willing to go to protect JP and all of their secrets?
I think she told JP she just wanted her body to be found for her family and she would go without a fight. I believe that it was a dog whistle to her family. The clue they would need to know this wasn’t suicide. She told them and now she needed them to remember. She knew she was going to die and everybody needed to know about the gunshot specifically that she warned everyone about days prior. He didn’t know she told people close to her that that. That’s why her voice broke up when she said she was going to unalive herself. She did not want to die. She just wanted people to be able to solve the crime. She manipulated him into thinking he was going to get away with this because she is admitting to it being a suicide. Not knowing She had whistled what was going to happen, she needed people to listen. She offered up no extra information during the 911 call which then delayed the process hoping they would find her location. She told her dad days prior she’s getting a gun for protection. I think she got it before she drove up there just incase and the bruises on her hand may be him wrestling it from her. Maybe at arrival.
A search and rescue dog can smell from weeks to months after somebody has left the area, and if anybody can get something of his and be able to place him there in the woods, you have convincing beyond a reasonable doubt.
After writing this up yesterday when I was complete, I got super sick to my stomach. I was shaking. I could see it completely out in my head where all the facts completely aligned. I believe tthis is the only plausible theory there is.
What people need to realize at the end of the day the good attention and bad attention is still attention to a narcissist. He is enjoying the intention is getting from this primarily from getting away with it. That’s why I believe he visited her body four times after she was deceased. Because he already had a girlfriend, he already talked about going and getting a hot wife and then after she dies, he does an interview about how she’s the most incredible wife and supportive. He made the obituary about how awesome he thought she was to still collect her validation and the validation he got from being her husband because she was good. She was light and he was jealous of that. He wanted that that’s why he had that position. She loved him so much he claimed and how she was so wonderful he claimed yet she didn’t want him when she had a no contact order and wanted a divorce obviously, he wasn’t that. and if you guys don’t think he groomed her go to the memorial of life sermon and listen to the poem again. Now switch the words, “school” and “church.” And follow the story line.
He killed Mica Miller.

Okay so this happened a couple months ago around mid-March. I posted what happened in another subreddit, but a couple of people mentioned posting it in this one too. I keep rehashing it over and over and yeah… here is what I said in the original post:
I can’t deal with my mom anymore. My whole life I was always afraid to talk back or stick up for myself. And then when I do, she just continues to berate me. Here is the story…
I don’t know what to make of this situation. It would be a long story if I tried to explain it all so I will attempt to make it brief. So, a couple weeks ago my mom started talking down to me.
My memere has been dying. And my mom told me my “priorities are skewered” and “it’s quite underwhelming, honestly” “your memere is the opposite of good health.” She said this because I told my mom that I would visit memere later in the week.
Keep on my mind my mom kept going back and forth on this matter. She would tell me I should go and see my memere. Then a day later she would say I shouldn’t because my memere isn’t herself. Then she would tell me I should call my memere. Then she would tell me I shouldn’t because of how my memere isn’t in her right mind.
So, my mother spoke down to me by lecturing me about how my priorities were skewered and whatnot really pissed me off. I replied, telling her not to talk down to me and telling her how rude and condescending her comments are. That just prompted her to tell me to not scold and tell me I all i do is think about myself and sleep all the time. She followed that with, "There, I said it." Like she's so proud and happy to get that off of her chest.
Keep in mind that I never discuss myself with my mother. But, she does know I'm in college. So how the heck does she know what I do behind my closed door? I could be studying, reading, listening to music etc. But no, she just slaps me with the "all you do is sleep and think about yourself."
Every conversation we have is either about my memere as of lately, or my mother will discuss things going on in her life.
And any other time I’ll just take it and deal with it (my mother being rude or whatnot) But this time I didn’t. It resulted in me eventually deleting the app we converse on. I told her to leave me alone and that I didn’t want anything to do with her. I knew it wasn’t worth going back and forth, and I didn’t want to say anything I would regret.
I ended up reaching out to her a week later saying “sorry memere is in hospice.” Since then we have been getting along.
Fast forward to today, I was searching for something in our conversation when I stumbled across her messages to me (from before I blocked her). I hadn’t read some of them yet because I didn’t want to. But then I saw she called me a “selfish, self-absorbed twat.” And that, “it takes a special kind of someone. Remember that.”
Keep in mind I don’t call her names. I decided to confront her about it. It didn’t turn out well. She just threw in my face about how she is going through a rough time because of her mother and also threw into my face how she has been here for me at my lowest points and that I put her and my dad through hell (I assume she is referencing my alcoholism, which I have been sober from for almost 2 years). She also said “and I stand behind the selfish twat comment.”
So I ended up saying, “and you’re a bitch.” Which prompted her to saying how I’m a despicable woman and that she would never talk to her mom like that.
I just don’t understand how she thinks it’s okay for her to call me names, but when I dish it right back to her she continues to try and bring me down, or throws in my face how she was there for me at my lowest points. It makes it seem like she is trying to guilt trip by bringing that up (from when I was suffering from alcoholism which caused my parents to be worried for me and stuff).
I understand her mother is dying. But does that really give her the okay to treat me this way? I blocked her. And I honestly do wish I had kept my cool. I did initially the first time around when I removed her. But this second time around I let the situation get the best of me.
Okay so now for an update…sadly my memere ended up passing away :’( Ever since then, things haven’t felt right between my mother and I. After that whole debacle, she texted me a couple weeks after telling me that she loves me and also said, “I apologize for my choice of words. I reacted and I reacted badly.” All I said back was “I love you too.”
I felt like her apology was crummy. It seems like she isn’t even really taking responsibility for her actions but almost placing the blame on me. Acting like I’m the one who caused her to lash out.
Since then, we haven’t talked much. Honestly I just feel uncomfortable regarding the whole situation. It’s hard to move past it. I don’t know if I’m overreacting by still being affected by it. A week ago my dad texted me letting me know to not forget about my mom for mother’s day…which I had already planned to visit her.
So, on Sunday I went to go see her and gave her flowers because it felt like the right thing to do. But every time I think of her and when I saw her, I just keep replaying all of what happened. I just don’t know what to do anymore. As I said, I don’t know if I’m just overreacting and if I should just try and get over it and forget about it.

DC Next Proudly Presents:

THE NEW TITANS

In Shadow of Kestrel
Issue Nine: War Dove
Written by AdamantAce, GemlinTheGremlin & PatrollinTheMojave
Edited by Deadislandman1 and Voidkiller826
 
Next Issue > Coming Next Month
 
 
“Raven!”
Slade’s gruff voice pierced through the deafening, wave-like roars in Raven’s head, but the rage was too much to bear. Her hands sizzled as hellfire danced in her palms, her body readying for another attack. She locked eyes with a reptilian soldier, dismounting his simian steed and charging on foot, but as she lunged forwards to strike him, she watched a man fly into her path. Slade Wilson caught the young Titan’s hand and pushed, throwing Raven backwards.
“Come on, kid, snap out of it!” But as Slade’s words fell on deaf ears, he felt the familiar sting of a fist to his jaw, a crack echoing in his ears. He recoiled from the attack but powered through his injury and stood his ground. Sinking his heels into the ground, he locked eyes with the girl before him. Her face seemed contorted and uncanny, as if all of the rage she was feeling was pouring out of her. She groaned angrily as she thrusted her head downwards, her forehead making contact with Slade’s teeth, before pulling her head back up again in preparation for another attack.
Before she could make one, however, one of the lizardmen had almost reached the warring duo’s sides, and as he lunged forward with his long spear, he made contact with Raven’s side. A small rip formed in the side of Raven’s outfit, which seemed to only anger her further. However, it did seem to distract her enough; Mar’i fired off a single Starbolt which struck only the ground - a warning shot.
“Raven! Please!” the half-Tamaranean cried out. But the Raven she knew was buried under unfathomable amounts of fury; she ignored her teammate’s call and instead flew forwards and swung out at the reptiloid. The strike glowed with red flame, sending the creature skidding across the floor, barely conscious. Slade spotted a flash of something else on her face, as if she was finally able to fight back against the endless rage - pain, perhaps, or anguish. But in an instant, it was gone.
That flicker of something other than white-hot anger was enough for Slade.
He clutched his side as his still open wound began to ache, the bandages feeling wet with fresh blood. His jaw felt crooked, and as he gritted his teeth, it felt as though they sat differently atop each other. And yet, he clutched his staff tightly in one hand, and with the other he beckoned to Raven.
“Kid, you’re fighting it, I know you are!” Slade felt his mouth filling with blood rather than saliva.
Within a moment, Raven’s attention was locked on the white-haired man once again. She fired bolt after bolt of black and red flame, but Slade was still dextrous despite his pain. He dodged and dived, weaving through the fire, until he finally managed to make contact with his opponent. He drove his staff into her chest and pushed his weight against the weapon, forcing her backwards. She rose into the air, a black mist pouring from her arms and over her face, a large ghostly corvid taking her place. He felt the deathly cold shadow of the bird’s wing fall over him, his feet leaving the ground as she scooped him into the air.
He looked down at the ground far beneath him. A fall from this height would kill anyone, he thought, let alone someone beaten half to death.
Then, as a verdant bolt of energy struck it in the side, Raven’s Soul Self shrieked and the shadows retreated inwards. Slade felt himself falling through the air for a second, then two, before he felt his back collide with something soft and cushioned. As he looked up, he met the gaze of Conner, who soared to the ground in an instant, placing the snow-haired man on the ground and giving a swift nod.
Raven let out a pained, frustrated yell as she returned to the ground, aided by a grappling line expertly positioned by Tim, and in response, Conner jetted off towards the sound of her cries. Slade’s feet faltered beneath him, and he stumbled to keep his balance. His breathing was laboured and his vision was becoming fuzzy. It felt as though, he realised, all the blood loss and violence he had suffered over the past few hours were finally catching up to him. Was this what dying felt like?
“Slade!” shouted a voice, followed by the dulled drumming of hurried footsteps. Slade pulled his hand across his face to wipe away the mental haze and drops of blood. It was Don, sprinting towards him. When Slade felt Don clasp him by shoulders, he realized just how slowed he was by his injuries. “Plan?” Slade coughed out.
“You’ve seen what she can do. I only see one way out of these without one of the kids getting hurt. I’d do it myself, but I’m out of practice and this is too important to leave to chance.” Don looked around anxiously, his face betraying that he had a lot on his mind. “I’m giving you the powers of a god.” Slade opened his mouth to ask a question, a million came to mind. He glanced across the battlefield. Through a blurry film, he saw Raven’s Soul Self bat Conner away with its wing. He careened into the trunk of a thick tree, uprooting it with a deep crunch. “Are you sure?,” Slade asked, breathless.
“I’m not losing another Titan.” Don squeezed his eyes shut. His grip on Slade tightened as pale, almost blinding light enveloped them. It felt warm. No, better than that: it felt peaceful. With his enhanced senses, Slade could hear his erratic heartbeat slow. Fleeting visions bubbled up in his mind, opening up his awareness beyond the wildest dreams of Project Veritas. He felt rivers of magical energy flowing through the air and earth. Each of them spiralled towards a depression. Towards Raven, he knew instinctively. Iridescent blue light spread outward from his shoulders. It washed over his body armor, bleaching the jet black panels until his entire body shone with radiance. The pain from wounds old and new faded, replaced by serenity - and power. Don opened his eyes again and sighed gently; a concoction and joy, relief, and quiet mourning.
“There,” Don remarked. Slade felt lighter, less angry, less burdened. He looked down at the iridescent light enveloping his body. Magical energy buzzed against the surface of his skin. “The powers of the Dove - officially yours.”
Slade sucked in a nervous breath. “Don…” Even rejuvenated, he was still lost for words.
“They’re yours now,” Don smiled weakly. “Now go earn them. There’s a Titan in dire need of our help.”
Conner floated out of the dense jungle, rubbing his forehead. “Is Slade glowing or do I have a concussion?”
Slade looked over at Raven. She seemed less erratic, her movements driven by her brain rather than her gut. Tim’s staff batted fiercely against her, each strike buffeting her back more and more, but it was clear to Slade that Raven was not any weaker physically - her mind, however, was another story.
Slade began marching towards her, the ache in his side dulled. “Raven. You’re strong. Fight this rage inside of you.” Raven glared at him, a spark of something in her eyes, as she swooped in towards him at top speed. As she neared him, however, Slade readied his staff, stretching it out in front of him. As the tip of the weapon struck Raven, a beam of white energy coursed through her, as if she had been struck by lightning, and her body was flung backwards across the dirt.
Slade danced a hand over his rifle, but something felt different. He pulled it into his hands and inspected it swiftly; nothing seemed out of order. Raven rose slowly from her supine position, snarling softly to herself. Her movements had slowed, the expression on her face becoming closer to horror than rage. She was doing it.
“You’re nearly there, kid,” Slade soothed, his words suddenly like butter. He watched Raven’s shoulders start to relax. “That’s it. Just fight this, Raven. You’re almost there.”
Despite her tremendous progress, Raven’s blistering fury won out once more, and she charged a large bolt of hellfire in her hands. Slade fiddled with his rifle and crossed his fingers. There was a standstill between the two. Slade analysed his rifle again; there was something different about the barrel, as if it had been swapped out for another similar model. The stock felt lighter, too, as if the weight had been–
Raven roared at him, swiping wildly with glowing fists, and in an instant Slade instinctively pulled the trigger.
What fired from the gun was not a silvery bullet, but a familiar glowing bolt of white light, cloud-like in appearance. As it struck Raven, she sucked in a deep breath, the energy engulfing her. Her face softened and her posture relaxed. Then she swung out for the man’s weakened side, his bandages poking through the aura of light. And yet, as he stayed steadfast, not even attempting to dodge the attack. Sparks flew from the point of contact. Slade just readied another shot and fired.
Her body swayed with the blow. Slade closed the gap between them and focused on the new warmth he felt, concentrating it into his staff as best he could. Then, as he held it out in front of him at arm’s length, he swiped at Raven and struck her in the side of the shoulder. Each blow seemed to be more effective than the last, but as Raven’s movements continued to slow, Slade held fire.
“You’re doing it, Raven,” Slade encouraged. He watched as the other Titans surrounded Raven, each of them ready for any further attacks. Everyone watched with bated breath as their teammate and friend thrashed and recoiled from the hit. Her breathing was rapid, although it felt closer to panic than unabashed fury. She clasped her hands over her head, groaning. Then, suddenly, she stopped.
Her face had softened completely, her jaw slack, and tears filled her vision. She looked up at Slade with a comfort in her eyes. The aura emanating from him was pervasive and contagious, and although she had felt lost in a sea of impossibly vast emotions, its warmth and comfort cut through. The anger was still there somewhat, the last remaining dregs still working its way out of her system, but the comfort, the peace that Slade was providing was the anchor for her to stabilise herself. She had only ever seen this kind of power when Don…
Raven’s eyes widened as she realised what that meant. She collapsed to her knees, suddenly feeling the bone-deep fatigue her rage had suppressed. Her teammates rushed in around her. Mar’i dropped to a knee by her side and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s OK. You’re safe. Everyone’s OK.”
“Don I’m—” She wiped away a stream of tears, stumbling her way out of the emotional vortex she’d been sucked into. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I’ve lost control before, but never like this.”
Don looked older. Creases ran across his forehead and around his eyes. His smile hadn’t changed. “Raven, my brother and I got those powers when I was a kid. We didn’t ask for them. We weren’t ready for them. We didn’t know how to use them, let alone control them.” He laughed dryly, recalling Hank. “I don’t regret anything. Giving my powers to Slade is the best thing I’ve done with them in years. I know Hank would feel the same way.”
In the moment of silence that followed, Raven rose to her feet and pulled her cloak tightly around herself. She was still shaking. Tim’s eyes drifted from her to Slade. “Something’s gnawing at me. Kestrel’s powers are weakened in Skartaris. Don’s…” He coughed, “Slade’s powers are amplified. If this place is what affected you—”
Mar’i’s face flashed with recognition, “—your powers must be tied to the Lords of Order and Chaos!”
Tim furrowed his brow. “Maybe.” He hardly had time to consider further when a thundering crack tore open the sky. Two bolts of swirling energy - one red and one blue - met above them, forming a swirling portal at their vertex. The Titans readied their weapons, expecting the worst.
“It’s them.” Slade murmured, still put off by his uncanny awareness. Terataya and T’Charr descended from the sky, one wreathed in mist, the other, magma. The two elementals stopped a few feet above the ground, hovering.
Terataya was the first to speak. Even at a whisper, her voice reverberated through the air. “I don’t usually care for surprises, Don, but this was a pleasant one.” A thin smile appeared on her face.
“Slade Wilson.” Terataya’s neck turned at an unnatural angle to face him. “You wield the powers of Order with great skill. Who understands the dangers of unchecked War better than a soldier. Become my champion. Protect the balance.”
Slade took a step back, then glanced at Don.
“She’s right.” Don said, with only a hint of hesitation. “It took me years to use the powers like you used them today. You’re a natural.”
Slade looked at his hands, still gently pulsing with pale blue light. “Thanks.” He allowed himself a weak smile. “But no thanks.”
“What.” T’Charr’s voice boomed.
“It doesn’t take Zatanna to realize an old soldier like me makes a piss-poor Avatar of Peace. I fight for a living, and I’m not deluded enough to think that makes me good at anything but fighting. If you want someone who understands the need for balance, Don just sacrificed everything special about him for it.”
Don raised an eyebrow. “None taken.”
“His actions today were noble, but they do not make up for years spent squandering the gift.”
“Squandering? The Titans wouldn’t exist today if he hadn’t pulled them together. Everything they’ve done. Everything they’ve achieved for your balance wouldn’t have happened without him, including stopping that monster you made.”
“Watch your tone, mortal.” T’Charr threatened.
“There may be a vein of truth to his words, lover.” Terataya said. “But *if we were to restore Don Hall’s power, we would need assurances. His indecision led down this path.”*
Rocks ground against each other as T’Charr landed beside Don. “You would have weeks, not years, to select a counterpart and return to your duties.”
Don’s response was instantaneous. “I’ve made a decision.”
“You’ve decided if you’ll take up the mantle of Dove again?”
Don nodded. “And who should be the new Hawk.”
Terataya giggled. “Full of surprises today. T’Charr?”
“We should discuss this.” He said. “In private.”
The three of them vanished, leaving the Titans and Slade alone on a battlefield riddled with bits of dino meat and ape fur.
 
○○ Ⓣ ○○
 
“You don’t think they’re gonna come back in like, 200 years, right?” Conner asked. He sat beside the depowered Slade Wilson, who was downing aspirin to make up for the sudden deficit in peace energy.
“I don’t know.” Tim said. “But we should give them more than fifteen minutes.”
As if on cue, the skies opened again. Again, the chromatic energy lit the sky and again a portal opened its swirling maw. This time, however, it wasn’t two elemental Lords to descend. Raven squinted to make the figures out.
“Oh my god.” Conner said, having a far easier time with his super-vision.
“What? Who is it?” Tim asked.
“Donna!” Mar’i shouted. She shot off the ground towards her. Her black combat armor was replaced with a crimson and white bodysuit studded with stars that seemed to twinkle as the light shifted around her. The sword at her side was gone too, replaced with a coiled loop of rope suffused with the same brilliant energy. The two collided into an embrace, spinning through the air as they held each other tightly.
Don was the first to land, restored with the powers of Dove. He looked stronger than ever, and maybe more importantly, happier. Even Tim’s typical thoughtful brooding has been pierced by an unimpeachable joy.
“I don’t understand,.” Raven said. “S-She’s alive. How is this possible?”
“I knew there was only one person who could be trusted with the powers of War, with Hank’s abilities.” He scratched the back of his neck, a bit guilty. “And she’d been staring me in the face for years. It took some doing, but eventually T’Charr and Terataya saw that too.”
Donna landed beside him, Mar’i only a step behind. By now Conner had stepped forward. He tried not to choke over his words. “I’m sorry. If I’d—”
Donna didn’t let him get the words out before pulling him into a grapple-turned-hug that quickly grew as the rest of the team piled in. Slade flicked another aspirin into his mouth.
“Danyah!” A voice called out from over the ridge. It was Travis, mounted atop a fanged reptilian creature in the vague shape of a horse and flanked on either side by his gold-armored honor guard. He broke into a gallop, stopping just short of the Titans. “When I saw the skies, I feared the worst. Is it really you? Has sorcery brought you back to us?”
“It’s me, Travis. A Lord of Chaos brought me back.”
“Not to interrupt,.” Slade said, still nursing his wounds. “But did either of you ask them to bring us back to Chicago?”
“I…” Don grimaced. “Donna, how do we get home?”
“How did you get here? Surely you could return the way you came.” Travis said.
“No, we can’t.” Tim said, pressing a few buttons on his wrist’s holographic display. “Whatever magic pervades Skartaris is also causing some extreme time dilation. I can’t guarantee we’d return to the 21st century, or even to Earth.”
“I spent a decade in Skartaris and returned to Earth nearly two centuries later. It’s the influence of Chaos. We’d need a Skartaran mage of overwhelming power to stabilize our return.” She spat the word mage with disgust. Travis’s expression seemed to confirm the reputation of Skartaran spellcasters.
Before their anxiety could spiral, the sky above began to churn. Moments later, the ground shook as a violent bolt of lightning cleaved the air, striking with such ferocity that all but Conner and Donna were flung backward. Mar'i skidded across the damp undergrowth, her senses overwhelmed by the acrid scent of ozone. Her mind was racing; their victory was hard fought, and she doubted they had much left in the tank for another confrontation. She dug her hands into the ground and pushed herself up as she choked from the smell. The Warlord Morgan and his military guards snapped to attention, forming a protective ring around the crater that now marred the earth.
From the smoking pit, a figure rose, unfolding from a crouch like something out of Terminator. Adorned in a red and white jumpsuit that accentuated his lithe build, the young man's appearance was marked by a red cowl and goggles, with sandy brown hair rebelliously spilling out.
Conner squinted through the dissipating smoke, murmuring under his breath, “A speedster?” The Flashes had had a variety of different sidekicks and other allies over the years, but none of them recognised this one
With a nonchalant flair that seemed at odds with the charged atmosphere, the newcomer greeted them. “Hey, everyone chillax. I'm here to get you guys back home.”
Donna, ever the leader, stepped forward and spoke with a commanding curiosity, now emboldened with the war aura of Hawk. “And who are you exactly? Why should we trust you with such a claim?”
Flashing a cheeky grin, he tilted his head and responded, “Well, I’m a speedster for one. Name’s Impulse. If I run fast enough, then I can… well, I guess bend time.”
Behind Donna, the group exchanged sceptical glances. Raven's face remained shadowed by recovery, Mar'i and Conner braced for action, and Tim discretely checked his gadgets, no doubt for something that he could use on a speedster should the need arise.
“Yeah, we figured that much,” Don cut through the tension, his voice calm yet insistent. “Who sent you?”
Impulse chuckled, his demeanour remaining unfazed by their scrutiny. “Look, the details aren't the fun part. Trust me, I can get us back.”
As a silence thick with doubt and scepticism settled over the group, Impulse seemed to realise his casual assurances weren't sufficient. With a theatrical sigh, he reached up and removed his mask, revealing a face familiar to both Mar'i and Raven.
“Brody!?” Mar'i exclaimed, her surprise echoing through the clearing as she stared at the boy who had once hobbled through their college classes with his leg in a cast.
The young man’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a hint of pride. “Actually, it’s Bart.”
 
○○ Ⓣ ○○
 
When Slade emerged from the shower, his skin was glistening with moisture, the water tracing the contours of his scars. He wrapped a stark white towel around his waist, and crossed the plush carpet to sit on the edge of the hotel room bed. He released a slow, deep breath; it was a good job the speedster kid arrived when he did. The notion of being stranded in an alien land or, worse, a different time had gnawed at him with a ferocity that was hard to admit. Without Bart’s intervention, every one of Slade’s meticulously crafted plans would have been utterly dashed.
Facing him, a wall-mounted mirror caught his rugged reflection. Drawn to his own image, Slade studied the scars that mapped his trials, the slick white hair that crowned his head, and the deep lines etched into his face. A familiar discomfort nagged at him, focusing his attention on his right eye. Unable to alleviate the irritation through the skin, Slade exhaled heavily and carefully removed the eye altogether. The movement, fluid and practised, spoke of years of adaptation.
He placed the prosthetic gently on the bed beside him and as he massaged the socket, a decades-old habit, his mind wandered. He wasn't accustomed to keeping the prosthetic in for extended periods. Showering with it had been an uncomfortable experiment in necessity - he didn't like it, but understood the importance of maintaining the facade. The Slade he would have people believe he was would have never lost an eye, because that Slade had led a life far from by the darker paths Slade had truthfully trodden.
His thoughts wandered to his brief time wielding the potent powers of Dove, and Slade felt a twinge of regret at their loss. The clarity and strength those powers had provided were intoxicating, yet he recognised that he had a more important goal, one he couldn’t compromise. His current role demanded not the accumulation of power but the perfection of his deceit, ensuring that all believed he was not the Slade Wilson they knew, but a Reawakened, more innocent doppelganger.
Now, with the glass eye resting beside him, Slade stared at his unmasked visage. Maintaining the myth of the noble Slade was critical. The ruthless mercenary, the World’s Deadliest Killer - those identities had to remain buried. The Titans had believed him enough to entrust him with divine powers, their faith a testament to his performance, but the game was far from over; in fact, it was entering its most critical phase.
 
 
Next: Return to normality in The New Titans #10
 

Chapter 1: the event
It was the fall of my intern year as I bean my off service trauma rotation. This month was ubiquitously notorious for being the most labor intrusive and least productive rotaion of our emergency medicine program. Knowing this I entered with the intention of simply surviving the month.
Another intern and I let’s call them A for sake of ambiguity, we’re the first emergency medicine residents to roste on the trauma services that year. A shaky start would be an understatement. In the words of chance the raper “like my grama with the Parkinson’s playing operation.” Would better describe it. Medically we did well. We were very competent and completed our work daily, but communication and coordination was non existent. Our Cheifs had informed us that Tuesday was our day of and the Trauma cheif residents had minimum communication with us, or our Cheifs as it seams when A and I did not report on Tuesday they sternly made their dissatisfaction known.
I have struggled with insomnia sense the age of 10. Had 2 sleep studies by this point in my life and been prescribed nearly every sleeping aid on the market. The 80-94 hr work weeks of our trauma rotaion only worsened my insomnia. My lack of sleep likely contributed to a less than prime adaptive immune system and 2 days out of my trauma rotaion I contracted strep like symptoms with associated nausea, requiring me to call for a sick day the next day. No the first day that I felt too ill to work. I was not fully aware of the reporting process. I reported to my Chiefs, but I did not believe I could come to work tomorrow with amble time and notice, however I was somewhat delayed in letting their Cheifs know, because the surgical chiefs rotated every few days and I did not know who my was going to be the next day. The second day which I had to call out sick I was able to locate the cheif for the next day and reprot according to our university’s protocol, which requires that if a resident feels they are not fit for work they must not come in and the university must have staff coverage without any fear or implementation of punitive actions.
I had finally survived to the last week of my trauma rotaion and I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. What I could not see was the pile of stress, shitty diet, lack of mental well ness and sleep deprivation which I was pushing down to reach the light. By this time I had seen a psychiatrist regularly for sleep medication. I had mentioned to him that I had been experiencing more stressed lately and feel that I might be depressed. he reassured me that it was likely only due to my circumstances, given the difficulty of the trauma rotation and wish to reassess once the rotation was over. Looking back I had to fill the habit of drinking more than I usually do. My only on nights before I have days off became 1-2 beers every other night. All of this repressed unhealthy shit finally pushed bad on September 23rd. That night I was at work even later than usual, I stayed up later than usual and couldn’t seem to fall asleep. With the stress of only having minimal sleep and knowing I only had 2 more days of trauma left, I took an extra dose of my sleeping medication.
I opened my eyes to the fighting sight of sun beaming in my window and I instantly knew I was late. (Sense I hadn’t seen the sun in a month) . Due to my need for scrupulous sleep hygiene I have been sleeping with my phone of and away for me. I rushed to grab it and watched as the little Apple logo seamed to glow on the screen for an eternity. Then in conjunction with its fading I saw 3 missed calls from my director, a text from college A and 2 missed calls from the surgical director. Still, I was able to calm myself, knowing that resident A had been late to this rotation by a few hours 2 other days and nothing came of it. I called my director back and he asked me to report to his office where I was greeted by my director, my coordinator and another emergency medicine facility.
With the only explanation of: “we just want you to get better”, I was handed a letter, to my relief it did not entail my termination, but a declaration of administrative leave and a requirement to undergo an evaluation at a well known university in Florida.
Lake any other savvy millennial, I did my research. By research I mean numerous google searches and screeches thru the depts of redit. To my dismay I discovered that in order for a residency program to fire you, they must first initiate an administrative suspension. I would soon find out however, being terminated would have been a delightful outcome compared to what ensued.
I spend the next few weeks in the wallos of regret and depression. I indulged in higher qualities of alchohol then I ever have before. I all but ceased communing with peers, and abruptly stoped any physical activity I had once enjoyed. Frightened as I was I was ensured, it will be ok “we just want you to get better”
Chapter 2 The evaluation : guilty until proven innocent I did exactly as instructed and scheduled an evaluation, I supposed that this was either a mental evaluation to assess if I’m fit for work with plans of termination or it actually was an evaluation to better treat my insomnia. To this day I regret my ignorance, and wish I had researched the process more. The Hindi / sand-skrt idea of Hamsa 🪬 is that in order to do any good you must have full knowledge or else good intentions can result in harm. I truely believe my director had good intentions, however but him and I did not have full knowledge of the nature of this evaluation.
Looking back see how easily I could have avoided my troubles by asserting legal aid at this point or even by researching this evaluation process more in depth. If one searches impaired practitioner program which I now know this evaluator works for, the search entire will populate 5 or 6 layferms along side their home website and there is a valid reason for this.
If one every finds themself in this process I employ you to bring a DSM to your evaluation or at least be familiar with the most common use disorders in the DSM-5, because your evaluation will turn into a dance of questions where the evaluator attempts to trap you in a round about way to stating something that may qualify for one of the diagnosis. I have provided an image from the DSM-5 below outlining AUD, which the evaluator concluded that I had the most severe from:
Image
Example***** Here are 10 examples of how he fraudulently assessed me taken directly from his assessment note.

1. Evaluator: Have you ever stoped drinking in the last year.

Me: yes I stoped every week day, I was only drinking on the weekends, until two weeks ago.
-Evaluator uses stoping and starting every week to qualify for 2 or more unsuccessful attempts to stop in the last year “There is a persistent desire or unsuccessful efforts to cut down or control alcohol use.”

1. Evaluator Have you ever had withdrawal symptoms

Me no
Evaluator Well Have you ever had a hangover? You know that’s a from of acute withdrawal
Me: yes in college, I had a few but that was years ago and I’m pretty sure the pathophysiology is different.
Evaluator uses this to count for withdrawal symptoms even tho is was more than a year ago

1. Evaluator: Have you even taken your sleeping medication on a day or night which you drank? Me: Yes, I took my prescriptions are prescribed but I never drank close to bed

Evaluator: qualified this as dangerous behavior with alcohol (where the DSM gives examples such as unprotected sex and drunk driving). The sleeping medication I was on is not a benzodiazepine therefore it is not deadly with alcohol. I personally have seen many patients in the ED who have taken their entire bottle of the medication and drank copious amounts, we just monitor them over night and rehydrate them

1. Evaluator Has anyone told you you drink to much or been worried about you Me: No I drink much less than my friends

Evaluator what about your girlfriend? Me: well she actually doesn’t drink at all she doesn’t like it. She often buys me beer for The Weeknd’s tho. One time we went to a movie and she got a little irritated because I waited for beer then complained about them not having any craft beer. So she said, “you couldn’t have just said no” and drank something else. However, she apologized after and said it’s worth waiting if it’s my only day off.
Evaluator said this qualifies for continued drinking despite causing significant relation consequences, ie divorce.

1. Evaluator : you have sleep issues I hear, and your chart says you’ve had depression in the past, don’t you know that alcohol can effect your sleep and mood Me: yes that’s why I never drink within 3 hours of sleep.

Evaluator but you knew this and still drank
Evaluator: qualifies for drinking despite unwanted physical or psychological effects (this should be recurring to effects the alcohol is causing, I have had insomnia sense the age of 10 long before I took my first sip)
7 evaluator you were late for work and told my you had a drink the day before
Me: Yes but I was late because I didn’t sleep and took double my sleeping meds, I will never do that again
Qualifies for 2 significant work or school issues in the past year ( a therapist and other psychologist ensured me that being late on or a few days doesn’t count they typically are getting fired or failing) ( moreover, this would assume I was late do to drinking it’s self and also assume if happened more than once)

1. • Alcohol is often taken in larger amounts or over a longer period than was intended

He never once asked anything related to this question yet said I qualified in his final report 9. A great deal of time is spent in activities necessary to obtain alcohol, use alcohol, or recover from its effects. The evaluators logic here was sense I was late for work and I had 2 beers the day before I must be taking long to recover from it (this is assuming I missed due to alcohol)

1. Tolerance drinking more to require the same effect: this he checked as true in his final note however it was never even discussed in our evaluation. I did mention to him that I’ve been drinking more than I had earlier in the year frequency wise, but they said nothing to do with quantity or needing more.
   
2. Wanting to drink so bad you can not think of anything else: this is the only qualification of SAUD my evaluator said I did not have.
   

Moreover, without legal help I was not aware that I could obtain a second evaluation or even oppose going to get evaluated at all, but that wouldn’t have mattered seeing I still thought this was for my health and wellbeing as seen when I was asked why do you think you are here to today, to which I replayed “so that I can be evaluated to see what is needed to get back to work”.
To maks the ordeal more infuriating the evaluator continues to ingratiate himself and lie through the process telling you, “it will be fine as long as you are 100% honest”, “anything you say in here is between you and me” or “you slipped up once with your meds, I know your residnecy program they will probably just want a few more out patient tests”
Two weeks later I received a phone call right before I left for an out of state vacation to visit my nice for her birthday. During the call I was informed that I would be required to complete a partial hospitalization program (PHP) lasting “6-10 weeks” which would coast from 15-50 grand not including doctor visits or housing which is billed separately. I suppressed this inconvenience, enjoyed my vocation and reported when I returned, knowing that I must complete this soon so I may return to work with due to the fact that my payed time off would soon be diminished. At this time I had not yet heard of the organization PRN.
Chapter 3 Guilty till proven innocent: The diagnosis
Shell shocked I arrived to a in patient psychiatric unit and was rapidly cleared to progress to treatment without detoxification. During my 90 day of forced rehabilitation I met a few other individuals who were unjustly and fraudulently forced into treatment. I began to look up to one of these such members of the men’s community, who I will refer to as patient X for ambiguity sake.
Unlike me patient X did have alcohol use disorder. He spent many clinic days drinking to avoid alcoholic withdraws. The curious component of his story is that he admitted his depravity, saught help and through his own journey became sober. The bodies at be, namely his local physician, Health monitoring program, rejected his personal path to sobriety and forced him to undergo 90 days of in patient treatment before he could practice medicine again. When he checked in to rehab he had been sober for over a year.
Ask for Stories of people from online
As for me I spend many sleepless nights pondering how consuming a legal substance in a moderate amount could throw me into significant legal financial issues. My labs my toxicology, my story and my collateral from colleagues from colleagues all indicated light to moderate alcohol use but my evaluators word stood as the word of God.
More frightening was the director of this rehabs acknowledgment of this. The director who happens to also coincidentally be the evaluator, stated to me as well as to staff on multiple occasions: “ I suggest inpatient treatment for everyone who is reported”. “This is safer for me not to miss anyone who could harm patients, and I figure there must be a reason someone reported them.”
I am still elucidating the reason why I was determined guilty and proven innocent, however I can say from my 90 day stent that the majority of the patients at this rehab needed to be there. This program is saving lives of both providers and patients, however it is destroying the lives of those wrongfully accused.
Chapter 4 your lisense rehab or jail : Upon arivil I was sent to a detox hospital underwent a medical examination and was “one of the lucky ones” who required no detoxification and could report directly to PHP. Like everyone else, I spent 90 days in a PHP, being as 6-10 weeks is simply a lie they tell patients to decrease the change of resisting the treatment. When discussing the topic one therapist sated “if we told patients 90 days they would never come.” She then attempted to justify the treatment by outlining the story of a patient she had called who “didn’t make it to treatment” and killed themselves”. It is my belief that it is not the lack of PHP which impelled such professionals to take their life, but them realizing that they now will be obliged to undergo 90 days of PHP, 5 years of PRN monitoring with a loss of autonomy and hundreds of thousands of dollars taken from them that induced their hopelessness. For even if these professionals were truly mentally unstable in their addictions, in every case it was only following a phone call where they were informed they must undergo treatment that they took their life’s. By this time I still haven’t the slightest clue what PRN was.
Despite the security these programs provide for many my 6 main issues with them can be summarized in : 1. Kick backs: evaluators are directors of treatment clinics 2. The reported are guilty till proven innocent 3. The price, the overflow of money these places drag in from both patients and state universities is appalling, they charge separately for every visit and test 4. Although they make the claim that they are individualized, they are anything but. Every patient gets the same stay and treatment from the doctor drunk on the job and the one who was late to a shift 5. They force voluntary treatment. remember that friendly evaluator who promised he had your best interest at heart, so you opened up and told him everything about your substance use/ developmental / family history, well if you don’t stay for 90 days he will be “normally obliged” to tip the board of medical off to you.

1. The programs have overstepped their intended jurisdiction. -these programs work well if they function how they were intended at their inception. Cite original purpose. Originally these programs were designed to protect physicians and civilians from impaired practitioners; being healthcare workers who were impaired at work. Over the years, these organizations have extended their authority to encompass individuals with substance use disorders When not at work and also those who are in training to become healthcare professionals. Take for example myself compared to a physician who is impaired at work. A doctor who arrived for duty under the influence would surely benifit from the extensive testing, therapy and accountability enforced via these programs. In accordance the 20,000$ per year cost is appropriate when only making up roughly 7% of their yearly salary vs nearly half of a residents. In my case with my loss of income from employment, coast of treatment and monitoring, this year I will be required to pay 20,000$ to work. Yes, I will be losing money to work. Even if did indeed have a substance use disorder this level of monitoring wouldn’t not be considered appropriate.

Dispite all of the miscomings of this System My time spend in PHP was indeed helpful, as I believe it would be for anyone. Time for exercise, a reprieve from work and weekly counseling. A sample structure of my day to day schedule is provided below for insight:
Structure The general structure of these rehabitation centers is as follows: 1. One week of orientation phase, where you are not allowed in electronics or contact with the outside world world. Therefore, if you’re going, bring some things you would like to read or study. 2. In phase 2, you can use your phone however you cannot leave campus. You must stay in the dorm on campus. These shitty 1 room run down apartments with two other roommates will cost you about $1000 a week, they are required for at least four weeks and they are billed separately, no insurance will help you out here. 3. In phase 3 you can commute to campus if you beg your therapist and live very close. Whether you’re on campus or living off-campus, you are allowed to leave up to four hours per day. If you commute, you’ll be required to take a sober link decide you must Breath, alcohol test into every 6 hours. Like everything else in this program you must pay for this separately, a few hundred dollars a week. You advanced to other phases by completing assignments, however, assignments are limited by required built-in time, intrusive, scheduling, and reviewing. Therefore, if you do everything as rapidly as possible phase 1 will take one week phase 2 will take three weeks.
Every day schedule:
7:30: wake up, report to the front desk to inform them that you haven’t ran away yet and take and prescribed medications. They keep all your medications and require that you report to take them; for me this was antidepressants in an attempt to dispel the depression I contracted from being forced into treatment and whatever off label medication they were attempting to treat my ADHD with, since control medications were forbidden.
8 am: community group assessments This consisted of other patients presenting their assignments amongst the large group, on the weekends this was often an hour later and 12 study regularly took the place of assignment presentation.
10 am: process group. This was a two hour group therapy session with 6 to 12 other professionals in a therapist and training or occasionally a licensed mental health therapist.
1 pm: recreation This was generally about an hour of some sober themed craft or activity. Once a week this time slot was used for yoga.
2 pm: this was another time slot used for patients to present assignments as well as for individual therapy sessions. Each patient had one individual therapy session lasting 30 minutes per week.
3pm: This was time allotted to work on assignments or go to the gym on your sex specific scheduled gym day.
5pm: this time was used for guest speakers or another 12 step study group.
6 pm : this was generally an off-campus 12 step group
10 pm: report to the front desk and let them know you still haven’t ran away and take and Medication which are prescribed to take at night, then return to your cot bed in your room with 1-2 other roommates.
I found the community to be one of the most beneficial aspects of the PHP program. I was in a cohort of chill ass professionals of the same occupation who were always there to help each other.
Assignments The curriculum of the PHP consisted of assignment based on every step of the 12th step program. Generally, a patient would be required to complete an assignment on their own, review it with other patients, then faculty and finally present the assignment in front of the whole treatment group. You’re only given one assignment at a time and there are multiple steps to each which all requires scheduling this ensures that no matter how determined a patient is a full 90 days of treatment is required to complete all the assignments.
AA structure -the obsolete nature of AA has been verified in numbers studies, but I will refrain from divulging here and lend that endeavor to Dr. Lance Dodes very thorough discussion on the subject,in “the sober truth “
In all sincerity, if I truely did have a severe use disorder this experience could have been life saving. I only wish I could have used my 50 grand for someone who has spent their life time In addictive without reprieve. My first conversation when I was given my phone back was how I wish my father could be able to attend this PHP.
Chapter 5 reporting and PRN Self reporting What they ask you What you should tell them
There’s a third-party agency called professional resource network. Every state has their own. This agency works as a liaison between you and whatever credentialing service your occupation requires. Essentially they ensure your monitoring after treatment. Stake governments and licensing boards trust them, mainly because they monitor with the highest level of intrusiveness. This alleviates much work for state governments and licensing boards because once an individual is being monitored by a professional resource network, then they are deemed appropriate for duty and no further investigation/litigation needs to occur, as long as the monitored individual completely complies.
Because I was never impaired at work I was never reported to this agency. The general workflow of things someone would report you to professional resource network, then the resource network would contact you, and then you would be required to report for an evaluation at a treatment center, which would inevitably result in a suggestion I’ve treatment at that given treatment center. In my case I was sent to the treatment center without PRN being involved. Thus, two weeks into treatment. I was notified by my therapist that I needed to call PRN and self report. I attempted to resistance given that I did not have a problem and was not individually seeking help. I asked what happened if I didn’t self report. I was told that in order to stay in the treatment program I had to report to PRN. This meant either I report to PRN or I get kicked out of the treatment program and lose my job.
When you report to PRN they will ask you why you are in treatment. They will then list off every substance imaginable, asking you if you have ever tried the substance and when your last use was. Ultimately, they will obtain your discharge information from your treatment center, so it is in your best interest to report only what was found in your biochemical testing. If it wasn’t in your hair, I would argue that you don’t have a use disorder regarding that substance and it’s not relevant. I don’t believe it’s important for them to know that you smoked weed when you were 12.
Chapter 6 The contract:
Before being discharged from a treatment facility, a professional resource network will have you sign a contract. A little known fact which I was oblivious to is that contracts can be negotiated. Though this isn’t it possible, it is highly improbable that you can negotiate your contract since PRN has a power to delay your clearance to return to work.
Contractor almost never personalized, and I have not heard of a contract which is not a five-year agreement. You will sign releases of information so that PRN has access to all of your information which was gathered at the treatment facility. You must have a therapist, psychiatrist, primary care, doctor, and a addiction, medicine psychiatrist. You assign releases of information for all of them. You will be required To commit to: 1. three mutual aid meetings a week which you must log. I log smart recovery meetings. 2. Weekly therapy sessions with an approved mental health therapist from their list 3. Monthly doctors appointments with an addiction medicine psychiatrist 4. Yearly appointments with a primary care physician 5. Monthly appointments with a psychiatrist 6. Daily check-ins on a random drug testing app ( you will agree to weekly urine tests, a peth test 4 times a year, a hair test twice a year and a little caveat that says anything else they deem, clinically reasonable) 7. Quarterly update reports which you are required to obtain from a workplace monitor, therapist, addiction, medicine, psychiatrist, primary care physician and any other doctor you are seeing. 8. You must upload all of your prescriptions into a mobile application every single time you get them refilled and are not allowed to take them until they are approved. 9. Attendance of a PRN group via zoom. This is a local group you are assigned along with other monitored practitioners. There is a fee of roughly 130$ a month to attend this required group. For me all of these requirements coast around 20,000 a year. If you ever have a positive test even if it is the result of contamination from rubbing alcohol or unintentional ingestion of alcohol/ allergy medication your contract will rest to 5 years from the time of positive test. Once your five year contract is completed, you must ask to be released from monitoring. At that point they will search for any reason to keep you under monitoring. This could be dilute urines, daily check ins or a week where you did not attend mutual aid meetings. Every certification and license which you apply for will likely ask you if you were under a monitoring program/ have been treated for substance use. You must give an explanation and check yes. As far as licensing programs are concerned, if you were under the monitoring of PRN, you are safe, however they group practitioners who have had behavioral issues with practitioners who were diverting drugs from work. Therefore, keep in mind that you will be labeled as a sever addict.
7 Back to work and only work. During treatment your only goal is to return to work, however when you return your experience will be drastically distinct from what you remember. For me, I was now working in isolation. Missing six months of my training meant that no other Resident was on the same rotation as me. My coworkers at all formed friend groups. When I returned I was greeted with much concern for my well being. No one would speak to be about my absence, however everyone knew there is only one reason a resident would leave for 6 months then return. My Accdeemic meetings were consisting of attending telling me “I have a target on my back now” and “ I have to preform even better than others” in the light of my time missed. If this wasn’t alienating enough, the majority of Resident events, sponsored by recruiters and my university revolved around alcohol to which I had to give some excuse to why I can not partake with others. I’m fortunate that I do not have an addiction, because these stressful conditions along with the daunting amount of dead and requirements imposed by PRN are enough to make any addict relapse. While I was at treatment, I was in the dative with Samyr stories a physicians whose addictions got the best of them. Physicians who did not make it to treatment, often taking their own life. These stories were presented as a warning. Your addictions will kill you without our treatment was the message. When, in reality I did not hear one story in which the addiction killed physician. Every physician who didn’t make it to treatment took their life after being told they must report to a treatment facility. Perhaps they knew what this entailed and it was not their addiction or getting caught which caused them to end their lives, but the unmanageable and often unreasonable burden that treatment would put on their lives.
9 How to escape So your fucked your in PRN and should be or you should and now your recovered and want to terminated your contract.

1. You ask to be released early done at 1/2 time ( good luck)
2. You have “good reason” (no one has ever been let out of contract because of this reason, the verbiage is far too vague)
3. You serve all your time and they let you out(maybe, as discussed earlier, they would do everything they can to keep you in your contract as long as your practicing)
4. You can’t practice medicine anymore

10 Layer up butter cup : I cannot emphasize the extent to which legal help is required in this process. You much seek it and seek it early. Lawyers can provide many avenues to you early in the process. Once you have committed to treatment, gone for evaluation or are in a PRN contract , this is very little that you or legal help can do. Spend a few thousand dollars when you are accused and save the 20-30,000 later.
After you have been evaluated if you disagree as I did, then this is the process you must undergo. 1. Hire a occupation, defense, lawyer 2. Prove you don’t have an addiction, this is done by having an alternative evaluator with similar credentials state that either you don’t have an addiction or that PRN’s level of monitoring is not medically appropriate ( this will need to be a multi day neuropsychological evaluation, which will cost about $5000). 3. Your lawyer must draft in writing that the medical level of monitoring is not required such as another medical professional and send this to PRN 4. PRN will tattle on you to the board of medicine. 5. The board of medicine will conduct an investigation. 6. At the end or when they believe they have enough reasonable evidence to the board of medicine will suspend your license or claim, you must comply with the PRN contract to practice. 7. At this time your lawyer will defend you in the state court against the board. This is costly but much less than the coast of a 5 year PRN contract 8. If you win you will likely suggest an alternative level of care such as gonna get therapy every week. If you lose, than you wasted a fuck ton of money and are still bound by your PRN contract.
Overall this entire process has coast me Over all coast:
My finances for this year only including PRN and rent are as follows:
120-200$ every week for testing 480-800/ month
65 every week for therapy 195/month
125 every month for PRN group
About 50-69 every month for 2 doctor apts
So at least 745$/month at the lowest
Treatment at the recovery center coast 20,000 for me out of pocket and
I wasn’t payed for 6 months with no FMLA because I am a first year. At the 1 year mark I will have made 26,000 this year after taxes And payed About 29,000 on PRN alone
Rent is 1,000 so that’s 12,000 a year
Just in rent and PRN alone I will be at 26,000- 41,600 -15,600.
I will be in debt by at least 18,000 at the 1 year mark
Coast of treatment center 20,000 (with insurance) For each year of PRN roughly 20,000 Add that to 6 months of attending salary which was delayed due to my treatment time: at least 150,000 Layer coasts along with other evaluations 25,000 Missing 6 months of residency pay 30,000 Coast of 1 year in monitoring: 245,000 Coast of 5 years 325,000
If my case progress to a trail I will require an extra 20,000 in court coasts
Chapter 11 My secondary eval: Dr sushi After I arrived at my treatment center I challenge my evaluation multiple times. Each and every time I was discharged and often accused of alternate mental health/ substance abuse issues to discourage my advances. I was never given the opportunity to undergo alternative assessment, however PRN guidelines state that you can obtain a second option within 7 days of your first. This is a mute point, however, because you will not receive the results of your evaluation until over a week after it is conducted and the second evaluation must be conducted by another PRN hired evaluator of their choosing. During my stay in rehab I contacted PRN multiple times to attempt another evaluation/ legal help. They warned against both stating they were a “waste of money” and “pointless”.
After completing my treatment with the guidance of many addiction, experienced physicians, mental health counselors and psychiatrists recommendations I sought in a secondary evaluation. I chose a highly qualified professional with over 30 years of experience to conduct an extensive neuo psycho social evaluation of me. One that I was sure would be more extensive than the evaluation I received at treatment and more importantly an unbiased evaluation.
The results from my evaluation not only showed that I did not have a substance abuse problem warranting PRN level monitoring, but also that PRN was falling to allow adequate treatment of other conditions such as my ADHD. My evaluation showed my ADHD was not only untreated by PRNs attempt at using non controlled medication, but also in the top 3% most severe presentations of ADHD. My evaluator went on to explain my results by questioning why my treatment center even mandated I undergo neuro cognitive evaluation. The only neurodiverse findings were my IQ, my dyslexia and my ADHD. However, a neuo cognitive examination can be billed separately by treatment centers, therefore they always recommend one.
Chapter 12 Amongst its greed, intrusive nature and faulty accusations, professional recourse network function highly proficiently at the task they were designed to; protective physicians and patients from physicians who are impaired at work. In this domain they save lives, offer second changes and protect the public. When they act beyond their intended jurisdiction by imposing unnecessary monetary demands on practitionersin training, accuse practitioners without proof or act on behavior exemplified outside of a work setting they unjustly and inappropriately attack the week and innocent.
Proposed reform: As a trainee my universities malpractice insurance covers me for mistakes made at work. If a learner mistakenly harms a patient, then the university stands on their behalf. If the learner does something wrong under a teachers direct guidance, then the teacher is at fault. This makes sense logically as well as pragmatically. The state entrusts large amounts of money to hospital systems and universities to train resident physicians. A portion of this money is allocated to malpractice insurance. This should extend to accused impairment.
Suppose a training university was required to cover rehabilitation and monitoring of a resident of whom they claim is impaired. Alternatively they have the option of firing the trainee. This would reduce the number of innocent trainees being accused of impairment, make the process of rehabilitation more fair and provide a better use for tax payer derived dollars, which hospital systems are given to train residents. The truly impaired could still seek help, less false accusations would be made and with the employers having the ability to fire at the moment of impairment, there would be less chance of impairment at work.

Yeah this sounds ridiculous and it cost me my friendship of 2 years.
Basically, I'm an avid reader. I read whenever & wherever I possibly can. While outside, on the train, at Uni, during lunch, before bed, you name it. Ever since I became friends with Evie 21F, I introduced her to reading and she's also been into reading ever since. However, she's very moody and insists she can't read unless she's in the right mood, which comes around once every 5 months or so. And lasts for a week. (Not my problem, never really cared tbh)
However, I recently picked up a series she recommended to me. I instantly fell in love, got all the books (a couple thousand pages in total) and started reading. It took me around 2 weeks to get to the final book. It was extremely interesting, and the last book in particular was extremely intense, a huge battle was happening and the ending was finalized only in the last chapter. When I reached it, I texted Evie and told her how excited I was to finish it, and she went off.
Basically, she picked up the book the previous year, and she never got around to finishing it. She had about two chapters left, (so less than 200 pages in total of the series) and she said I couldn't finish mine until she finished hers, saying it was the least I could do, to be respectful of her and her situation of not being able to finish a series she recommended to me.
I scoffed and just ended the conversation and went back to my book. I didn't tell her I finished it, but I posted a review on an app and she saw it. She hasn't talked to me since. Thinking back, I feel bad for upsetting her, but I also stand firm on my opinion that I shouldn't have to put off something I love until someone else is in the "mood" to do so before me. does this make me the AH?

On New Years Day, 2024, after the balloon drop in a nightclub, I saw a hot girl with her hot friends dancing and grinding on men and each other. The girls shared kisses with each other, too. I wanted one of Jane’s (fake name for privacy) hot friends, but after dancing with her for a minute, I pivoted to Jane. She was giving me bedroom eyes and after we danced for a minute, she gave me a giddy smirk, closed her eyes, grabbed me and made out with me. Her lips tasted like alcohol, literally. I was in shock she was kissing me and I eventually kissed back. After a couple hot seconds, Jane pulled back and said I was hot. I am nervous as this was my first kiss since like middle school (I know, I know). We dance and kiss more. All of a sudden I felt panic because again, I tasted alcohol on her lips. “Is she drunk?” - I thought to myself. She was talking pretty normally with ditzy flourishes here and there. She wasn’t stumbling or anything (I actually saw her friends and her enter and leave the vicinity so many times before I pursued her friend. They were very lively and entered dancing every time).
Anyways...after Jane and I tongue kissed on the dance floor while embracing, I pulled back and asked Jane how many fingers I was holding. I remember out of like 4 or 5 times I did the finger test consecutively in that moment, she got 1 wrong. I corrected her. I told her I didn’t want to take advantage of her and she told me that she wasn’t drunk, just “lit”. Jane then put her hand on my shoulder and thanked me for keeping her safe. I then told her that I wanted to make sure she was in control and she was safe (earlier that night, I helped a clearly drunk girl who fell into me find her friend (I did the fingers test on her and she did NOT respond, just glassy eyed, drunk stare and stoically shitfaced) so I already had safety at the forefront of the mind even more from that point). Jane’s response was that she was in control.
We then went to the patio and sat down. She then called me cute in a ditzy way with her giddy smile. We introduced ourselves and actually had a nice conversation. She then proceeded to say she wanted to have sex with me and if I was top or bottom. I told her that I wasn’t interested in sex with her (I was paranoid about STD’s since a relative of mine is a doctor, so I told her that if we were to do it in the future (not that night or the day after due to just being there for vibes, settling into the new year right, New Year’s Day streets were gonna be chaotic with drunk drivers and wild attitudes, I also didn’t bring protection), then I needed paperwork of when she last got tested after sex.
We got each other’s IG’s and planned Tuesday for us to hang out and have sex. Obviously it didn’t work out because my scaredy cat self didn’t create enough comfort and connection compared to attraction in the club. So she saw me as another cute guy who she made out with to 000’s crunk. Jane told her hot friends that I was a good guy and that I was looking out for them.
After we grinded with her friend, Jane and I shared more make out sessions (after she said I was hot and that she loved me) She then told me to tie her up and do naughty things to her. I just laughed and we danced and kissed the night away. The day after, her texts were very favorable and full of encouragement and positivity (we were talking about self improvement). We still follow each other on IG but ceased contact for now. Guess the emotions wore off. It’s all good.
I couldn’t help but make this post because I have generalized anxiety, sensory integration disorder, and non verbal learning disorder. I’m currently getting screened for autism at my regional center. Am I overthinking this whole event and thinking that I coerced her into kissing and shit (when she couldn’t get one of the finger holding rounds right)? I had a serious nervous breakdown over it in March. I deal with a lot of toxic shame and guilt but I don’t know what’s real and what’s not when it comes to truth or narratives that I create for myself. Whether they are healthy or not, am I ducking my ego? I don’t know please help!

Hodadenon: The Last One Left and the Chestnut Tree
Long ago a boy and his uncle lived together in an elm bark lodge.
The boy’s name was Hodadenon, which means “The Last One Left.”
All of the rest of his family had disappeared over the years and it was thought they had been killed by those who were ‘otgont’, possessed of wicked powers.
Each morning the uncle would feed Hodadenon and then go out of the lodge to hunt, leaving the boy by himself. Each evening he would return, again feed the boy, and then go to sleep.
One day Hodadenon was playing by himself in the lodge.
He began to think. “Enh,” he said, “why is it that I never see my uncle eat?”
Then he took a bone awl and made a small hole in the deerskin he used as a blanket each night.
“Tonight,” said Hodadenon, “I shall see what happens after we go to bed.”
That evening as always the uncle returned. He fed the boy and told him to go to sleep. Hodadenon lay down on one side of the fire and on the other side the uncle lay down on his couch, which was made of saplings and covered with many animal skins.
Pulling the deerskin over his head, Hodadenon pretended to sleep, but he could still see his uncle through the small hole he had made.
After a time, the uncle stood up and went over to the fire.
“Hodadenon,” said the uncle in a soft voice, but the boy did not answer.
Three times more the uncle called his name, but Hodadenon still pretended to sleep. Coming closer to the fire, the uncle blew very hard into it.
Sparks flew out, landing on the boy’s legs.
“Hodadenon,” said the uncle, “be careful. You are going to be burned.”
But even though some of the sparks fell on his bare skin and burned him Hodadenon did not move.
“Nyoh,” said the uncle, “the boy is indeed asleep.”
He went over to his couch and removed the skins.
He lifted off the top of the couch and took out a box made of birch bark.
All of this Hodadenon watched through the hole in his blanket.
Opening the box made of birch bark, the uncle took out a small pot.
It was so small that it fit easily in the palm of his hand.
From inside the pot he took out another object which the boy could not clearly see though it looked to be smaller than an acorn.
Using a little knife, the uncle scraped tiny shavings from the thing into the pot.
Then, putting the tiny pot over the fire, he blew on it and sang this song:
Grow, pot, grow in size
Grow, pot, grow in size
And as Hodadenon watched, the pot grew in size as the uncle sang his song and blew on it. Finally the pot was as large as a normal cooking pot and the odour of something delicious came from it.
Before long the food was ready and the uncle ate it all.
When he was through, he blew once more on the pot and sang this song:
Shrink, pot, shrink in size
Shrink, pot, shrink in size
And once again the pot became small enough to hold in the palm of his hand.
Replacing the thing he had scraped in the tiny pot, Hodadenon’s uncle replaced the pot in the birch bark box and again hid everything in the secret compartment under his couch. Then he went to sleep.
The next morning, as always, the uncle went out hunting and left the boy alone in the lodge. For a time Hodadenon played around the lodge.
He shot his small bow and arrow at a target and did other things, but the song his uncle sang to the pot kept going through his head.
Finally he could stand it no longer.
“My uncle will be back soon from his hunting,” he said. “He will be very hungry. I should prepare a meal for him.”
Hodadenon went over to his uncle’s couch, pulled off the skins and opened the compartment.
Taking out the box of birch bark, he opened it and found the tiny pot.
Within it was half of a small dry nut.
“So this is my uncle’s food,” said Hodadenon, “but it is almost gone.
If I want to make enough for him to eat, I must use it all.
I am sure he can get more.” So Hodadenon took a knife and scraped all that was left of the nut into the tiny pot.
Then, placing the pot over the fire, he blew on it and sang:
Grow, pot, grow in size
Grow, pot, grow in size
Sure enough, just as it had done for his uncle, the pot became larger.
Now it was the size of a normal cooking pot and it was boiling and boiling.
But Hodadenon was not satisfied, “surely my uncle will be more hungry than this when he comes home.
I must make more.”
Then he blew on the pot and again sang:
Grow, pot, grow in size
Grow, pot, grow in size
Now the pot was so large and bubbling so fast that Hodadenon had to stretch to stir the contents, which smelled very good indeed.
“Neh,” said Hodadenon, “this isn’t enough. What if my uncle wishes to share this good food with me.
After all, he will be grateful that I prepared it.
I must make more.”
So, once more, he blew on the kettle and sang the song.
Again the pot grew and now it was so large that Hodadenon had to stand on top of his uncle’s couch and use a canoe paddle to stir the contents, but he was so excited that he did not want to stop.
“This is almost enough for us,” he said, “but what if we should have visitors?
We should have enough to offer them as well.”
So, for a fourth time, Hodadenon blew on the pot and sang the magic song.
The pot grew so big that Hodadenon had to get out of the lodge because it filled the whole place from side to side! It was so big that the only way the boy could stir it was by taking a long pole up to the roof and reaching down to stir it through the smoke hole!
When Hodadenon’s uncle came back from hunting, the first thing he saw was the pudding bubbling out of the door of the lodge.
He heard someone singing above him and looked up.
There was Hodadenon, swinging his legs in the smoke hole, still stirring the pudding and singing happily:
What a good cook I am
What a good cook I am
We all will eat well now
What a good cook I am
“Nephew,” called the old man, “come down from there.
What you have done has killed me.”
Then Hodadenon’s uncle blew on the pot through the door of the lodge and sang the song to make it grow small.
When it was down to the size it had been at the beginning, he entered the lodge, lay down on his couch and began to weep.
Hodadenon, who had come down from the smoke hole, walked over to where the old man lay.
“Uncle,” said Hodadenon, “what is wrong?”
“Hodadenon,” said the uncle, “you have used up all of the only food I can eat.
Now I will starve to death.
This is why I never allowed you to see me eat.
I knew that you would do this.”
“Uncle,” said the boy, “things can’t be that bad.
Just go and get another of those little nuts.”
“Neh,” said the uncle, “that is the kind of food called a chestnut.
Long ago, though it was very dangerous, I obtained that one.
All these years I have eaten it and it would have lasted for many more.
Now I am too old to get another one.”
“Wah-ah,” said Hodadenon, “this is my doing.
I shall go and bring back many chestnuts.”
“It is not possible,” said the old man.
“The way is long and guarded by many terrible creatures.
Others of your family have gone there but none have ever returned.”
Yet Hodadenon would not give up. Finally the uncle agreed to tell him the way.
“Go straight to the north, the uncle said. “There you will find a narrow path.
At its first turn it is guarded by two great rattle snakes, slaves to the evil ones who own the chestnut trees.
No one can get past them.”
“But what if I do, Uncle?” asked Hodadenon.
If anyone by good luck passes the great snakes, he will next encounter two huge hears.
They guard a passageway between the rocks.
They too are slaves of the evil ones.
They will tear apart anyone who tries to pass.
“Further on down the path are two giant Panthers which leap upon anyone who attempts to get by them. Hodadeno, it cannot be done.”
“Is that all, Uncle?” Hodadenon said.
“Is it not enough?” said the old man.
“Neh, that is only the beginning. Next is the place where the chestnut trees grow.
There live the seven sisters who own the trees.
All of them are strong in ‘otgont’ power.
If anyone comes to steal the chestnuts, they run from their long lodge and beat the person to death with their clubs.
No one can hope to go undetected, for a flayed human skin hangs in the top of a tree looking down on the chestnut grove and it sings a warning when anyone comes close.”
“Nyah-weh, Uncle,” said Hodadenon, “I thank you for your good advice.
Now I must he on my way. I shall return with the food you need if all goes well.”
Taking two sticks, he tied them together and placed them standing near the fire.
“Watch these sticks, Uncle,” said the boy. “If all is well with me they will not move, but if I am killed they will break apart.”
Now Hodadenon set out on his way.
He went straight to the north and found a narrow path.
“This must be the road my uncle told me of,” said Hodadenon. “It looks easy enough to travel.”
The boy continued along and soon the path began to twist and wind.
Ahead, it turned sharply to the left. Hodadenon stopped, crept off the path, went through the trees, and peered out cautiously.
There on either side of the path, were two great rattlesnakes, coiled and ready to strike.
“Uncle,” said Hodadenon, “you know this road well.” He went and caught two chipmunks. Holding one in each hand he again began to walk the path.
When he came to the two rattlesnakes he threw a chipmunk into the mouth of each before they could strike him.
“Tca,” he said, “you seem to be in need of food.
Now I have given you that which you should hunt for yourselves.
Hawenio, our Creator, did not make any of his beings to be slaves. Go from this place.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the two rattlesnakes uncoiled and crawled off in different directions, leaving the road unguarded as Hodadenon went along his way.
Meanwhile, back at the lodge, the two tied sticks which had been quivering now stood still as Hodadenon’s uncle watched them intently.
Now the path entered a rocky place.
Again Hodadenon left the trail to scout ahead.
There, where the way dipped between two big boulders, were a pair of giant bears, crouched and ready to tear apart anybody who tried to go by.
“Uncle,” said Hodadenon, “you have travelled this road before.”
He climbed a tree where he heard the buzzing of many bees, pulled out two combs of honey and went back onto the path.
When he came to the bears, he hurled the combs of honey into their mouths before they could grab him.
“Hunh,” the boy said, “it looks to me as if you were hungry.
Now I have given you that which you like best of all.
The one who gave us breath, Hawenio, did not make us to be the slaves of anyone.
Go from this place.”
At his words, the two bears turned and went away,each in a different direction as Hodadenon continued down the trail.
Meanwhile, back at the uncle’s lodge, the two tied sticks stopped quivering and Hodadenon’s uncle breathed a sigh of relief.
Now the path entered a deep forest and wound between large trees.
Leaving the trail, Hodadenon crept along till he could see the place where two huge panthers, eyes glowing like green flames, hid behind a pair of giant pines on either side of the path.
“Uncle,” Hodadenon said, “you remember your travels well.”
Taking his bow and arrows, he killed two deer.
Carrying them over his shoulders, he went down the trail once more.
Before the panthers could leap upon him, he threw each of them a deer.
“Ee-yah,” he said, “I see that you were in need of food.
Now I have given you that which you are supposed to hunt.
Know that the one who gave us strength to walk around, Hawenio, did not intend that any living creature should serve another as a slave.
Go from this place.”
In two different directions away into the trees slunk the panthers and the boy continued along his way.
Meanwhile, back at the lodge, the two sticks which had been shaking as if struck by a strong wind once more stood still as Hodadenon’s uncle watched them.
The path in front of Hodadenon was very straight and wide. It looked to have been travelled by many feet.
The boy listened very carefully and soon he began to hear a very faint song coming from the treetops.
Crawling forward through the brush, he peered up and saw the one who was singing.
It was the skin of a woman tied in the top of a tree.
This was her song:
Gi-nu, gi-nu, gi-nu
I am the one who sees all,
I see you
The song was very soft.
Hodadenon could barely hear it, but he knew it would grow loud indeed if she caught a glimpse of him.
Below her was a grove of trees.
They were covered with a fruit which had burrs all over it.
These, Hodadenon knew, must be the chestnuts.
Beyond the skin woman and the trees was a great pile of human bones and just to the other side of them was the long lodge of the seven witches.
“Tcu,” said Hodadenon, “now I shall need some help.”
Going to a basswood tree, he peeled a long strip of bark.
With a burned stick and the juice of berries, he decorated the piece of bark until it looked just like a long wampum belt.
Slinging it over his shoulder, he knelt down and tapped four times on the earth.
“My friend,” he said, “I am in need of help.”
Up out of the ground poked the nose and then the head of a female mole.
“Nyoh, Hodadenon! How can I help you?” asked the mole.
“Grandmother,” said the boy, “if I make myself very small, will you carry me under the earth with you?”
“That’s too easy,” said the mole. “Let’s go!”
Then Hodadenon began to rub himself with his hands.
As he did so he grew smaller and smaller until he was small enough to travel with the mole under the earth.
Down into the ground they went, coming up beneath the very tree where the Skin Woman was swaying back and forth.
Once again Hodadenon rubbed himself with his hands until he was back to normal.
Then he called up to Skin Woman.
“Sister,” he called, “I have seen you first.
Do not tell the others I am here and I will give you this fine belt of wampum.”
“Wah-ah!” said Skin Woman, “I did not see you, Hodadenon.
Give me the belt and I will not warn them you are here.”
Hodadenon tossed the belt up to Skin Woman.
She put it on and immediately it wrapped itself so tightly about her she could not speak. Under the tree, Hodadenon quickly filled his pouch with chestnuts.
Then, making himself small once more, he called for his friend, Mole, to take him back under the earth.
Up in the tree, Skin Woman finally got her breath. She began to sing:
Gi-nu, gi-nu, gi-nu
Someone has bribed me
I cannot say who
Out from the long lodge ran the seven witches.
Each of them carried a long club.
They ran to the place where Skin Woman hung, but they saw no one.
“Someone has been here,” said one of the witches.
“Some of our chestnuts are gone,” said another.
“Skin Woman,” said a third witch, “you are our slave.
Speak and tell us who has been here.”
But Skin Woman did not answer the question.
All she did was swing back and forth in the wind, singing this song:
Gi-nu, gi-nu, gi-nu
I’ve been given a wampum belt
Shining and new
“You are a fool,” said another of the witches.
“That is only the bark from a tree.”
“It must have been The Last One Left.” said the fifth witch, “the boy whose uncle stole from us long ago.”
“If he comes back,” said the sixth witch, “we will catch him and kill him.”
“Nyoh,” said the last witch, “now we must punish our slave.”
She took her club and struck Skin Woman a heavy blow.
Each of the others did the same.
Then the seven witches went back into the long lodge, leaving the Skin Woman covered with bruises, but still singing softly of her fine new belt of wampum.
Meanwhile, back in the lodge of Hodadenon’s uncle, the two sticks had fallen over on the floor.
Picking them up and standing them upright once more, the old man watched them with great concern.
From his hiding place in the earth, Hodadenon had listened to all that was said by the seven sisters. “It is not right,” he said “that those terrible creatures should go on like this.
Friend Mole, we must go back there.”
The mole dove deeper into the earth.
She carried Hodadenon under the long lodge and came up beneath the couch where the sisters slept.
There, tied to a string of sinew, were seven hearts.
Quick as a spark leaping from the fire, Hodadenon grabbed the string of hearts and ran from the lodge.
Seeing him, the seven witches grabbed their clubs and gave chase.
Now back in the lodge of Hodadenon’s uncle the two sticks fell over once more.
The old man was so disheartened that he did not stand them up again.
He lay there staring at them, certain that his nephew would now never return alive.
From the top of her tree, Skin Woman sang as the seven witches chased Hodadenon:
Gi-nu, gi-nu, gi-nu
Hodadenon has your hearts
This will be the end of you
Now the first witch had almost caught up with the boy and raised her club to strike him.
As she did so, Hodadenon squeezed one of the hearts on the sinew string and the witch fell dead.
Now the second witch was about to strike.
Again Hodadenon squeezed a heart and the second witch died also.
In the end, he had squeezed all seven of the hearts and all seven of the evil sisters had fallen dead.
Climbing to the top of the tree, Hodadenon cut loose the cords which held Skin Woman.
He brought her down and placed her on top of the pile of human bones.
Then he began to push against a great dead hickory tree which was near the pile.
“Get yourselves up, my relatives!” he shouted. “A tree is about to fall on you!”
Immediately Skin Woman and all of the people whose bones were piled there leaped up and came back to life.
Skin Woman was, indeed, the sister of Hodadenon.
Long ago the evil witches had caught her and the others of his family whose bones lay in that pile.
There before him were his parents, his brothers, and all his relations.
All were very happy to be alive and thanked the boy again and again.
Taking the chestnuts from the ground, Hodadenon passed them out to all his relatives.
“Plant these all over,” he said. “Food will be shared with everyone from now on.”
Finally, his pouch filled with chestnuts, Hodadenon went back to the lodge of his uncle.
The old man lay there on his couch, thin as a skeleton, his eyes fixed on the two tied sticks.
“Uncle,” said Hodadenon, “I have returned.”
The old man jumped up and embraced the nephew.
To this day he still sits in that lodge, making chestnut pudding in his pot.
And from that time on, the chestnuts, like all the other good things given to us by Hawenio, our Creator, no longer belong to just one family, no matter how powerful they are, but are shared by all.

Schools: UIUC (University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign) vs. Rutgers New Brunswick
Intended major: Information Sciences + Data Science @ UIUC & CS @ Rutgers
Similarities: Weather is about the same. Weather is rly bad for a few months/unpredictable (Being from cali I will be seeing a major difference); Overall rankings are pretty close to each other; Both have very good research opportunities
UIUC
UIUC pros:

• Visited a few weeks ago and really liked the campus
• Really good stem education very study focused school
• Really liked the campus culture (upperclassman were very helpful and they were willing to go out of their way to show me around)
• Data science is an emerging field, and they are making a new data science building (Siebel School of Computing and Data Science), but not sure if my major will be added to that new school
• Data science building opening up might lead to more research opportunities and more resources
• Close to Chicago (very major job hub)

UIUC Cons:

• When I selected my major, I was drawn to the title, but later discovered it didn’t live up to my expectations.
  • If you look at the major in reddit it is basically everyone saying it lacks technicality
• Can make up the technicality with a CS minor but not as strong as a CS major
• Hard to switch to CS + X but would be very rewarding if it happened
• Not many friends going from my hs
• Not a very social guy so it’s going to be hard to make friends (but this is maybe for every college)
• Very big party school, not my type of thing to do. Won’t attend parties, but will be surrounded by people who do and that might be a big influence idrk

Rutgers
Rutgers Pros:

• Direct admit to CS
• Campus is pretty nice
• Prestige is alright to the point where you don’t feel lowly about yourself and what you are doing
• Close to NYC (very major job hub esp for a cs degree)

Rutgers Cons:

• Off campus housing limited
• Not really a great college town like UIUC
• Larger class sizes of 100+
• Not many people I know going - Campus layout is a bit fucked (5 campuses and you need a bus to go to each of them so basically not walkable)

Tiebreaking considerations:

• Ease of transferring into CS and statistics program at UIUC to pursue real data science opportunities, given its top 5 ranking in CS and not bad for DS as well.
• Knowing if direct admission to Rutgers might be preferable over pursuing Information Sciences and Data Science (IS + DS) at UIUC with plans of switching.
• Quality of education offered by both institutions
• Put yourselves in my shoes and think if I look back in 10 years would I have been happy with my decision?

Addendum:
I’m sort of a pit stop right now, as I am not really sure what to do. I never really wanted to go to Rutgers in the first place, but it suddenly became an option after I realized that an IS + DS major was not it at UIUC. When I visited both campuses, I got better vibes at UIUC. Rutgers’s campus seemed a bit depressing and reminded me of HS, but I am not against it as I think it would be a great experience and first impressions could be deceiving.
I just wanted to say that I am leaning towards UIUC because of the prestige it holds compared to Rutgers. I think this is what a lot of other people will do, and UIUC is the clearer option compared to Rutgers. At this point, it is more of a major thing than a school thing.
Even though data science at UIUC is not a bad major when paired with a CS minor, a lot of people are shitting on it for being really bad, so I don't know what to do. I talked to the Hella people, though, and they told me that it is fine if I put in a CS minor.
What do yall think I should do?

I went over to my dad's to help mow his lawn and clean up his yard because he's no longer capable, when I came across two kittens. We had destroyed their home unintentionally while throwing away some of the trash, so I hoped their mama would come back and move them. Well, she didn't, and a dog came and tried to eat them (the front yard does not have a gate). Luckily the dog didn't because we got to them in time. Having moved them, we waited to make sure mama would come. I started thinking how they were feral and I had seen the mom who was also feral. The kittens were about 2-4 weeks old and the mom only looked like a year old herself. So I decided to try to trap her and take her in to get her and her babies adopted out.
She finally showed up late at night and we caught her, but while trying to get her into her cage she bit me, clean through some work gloves and my fingernail, several times. I had no idea their fangs could do that. Well, we got her packed up and this morning I took them to the local no-kill shelter. They let me know that when she is old enough and the kittens are weaned that they would fix her, tip her ears, and re-release her if they aren't able to find a home for her. I'm glad I did it, but my hands got mangled. I can guarantee that those kittens would have died, so at least now there won't be new kittens dying each year.
The highlight of my day was my son getting to hold a kitten for the first time in his life. He is deathly allergic to all animals with fur so much so that he requires an epi-pen, and he started allergy shots only a year ago. He is still very allergic, but the allergist encouraged me to give him antihistamines and then let him pet a cat to test what his reaction would be. He got a little itchy, but was overall fine. This is pretty incredible! We will do 3 more tests before I will feel comfortable enough to start taking him to stores again (because everyone brings their pets into stores, not just service animals, but everyone). Next test will be a full grown cat that has never been around dogs. The third test will be a puppy or dog that has never been around cats. Last test will be both at the same time. If he doesn't have serious reactions to any of these tests it means we can change the way we live. We can go to parks again, and he can go trick or treating for the first time. We will be able to ride on airplanes again, and go on hikes in the woods.
The allergist informed me that he would add even more cat and dog allergen into the shots this year so hopefully we could speed up the process. My son has been carrying around a little stuffed dog he named Oreo for the last 2 years in anticipation of the day he can have his own pet. He takes such good care of it. When it's cold outside, he even puts it under his coat to keep it warm.
I am not an optimist, but I have great hopes for this coming year!