Car with teeth vinyl

I female age 15 was living in a camper in Rhode Island with my mom age 31 and my dad age 33 along with 2 siblings my mom got into a car crash which gave her a concussion so I had to take care of my family and was like a house wife every time I got off from school my dad didn't help unless it involved my siblings with his game console or with nothing other than steal my mom's stuff to go through it to make sure she didnt catch him cheating on her which she did but I hid it all which he had a suspicion of but my mom was acting like a child at the time I wasn't focused on the remarks my dad would make when i was In shorts about how my butt looked like mom's but bigger and how I was better than her while my mom was getting better my was about to be 15 but I notice while my dad made dirty remarks he was reading a online book and I caught him multiple times in my parents bedroom alone rocking his stick and why I mentioned this is because that book he was reading was my whole bathroom situation but with Mafia people in his book while reading my mom was mostly recovered by the week before my birthday and my dad gas lighted her that I did nothing while he did everything and my mom believed him for 2 days before he tattled on himself about looking through her phone and finding evidence of him cheating which make them fight and argue which they were doing before the crash during the week before my birthday I got a road rash which will be a scar for ever a reminder of how my dad was able to look at me in the camper the shower doors were made of glass and if the temperature was lukewarm then you could see everything on the other side I turned 15 on the day of my road rash I got into the shower around 8:00 p.m. while washing my wound my father went in there and didn't say a word and just started brushing his teeth and looking towards the mirror which at the time was not looking my way I was okay with it at first cuz I thought it would just be for that day but the next 3 weeks it went to a transition of him looking at the mirror then to him leaving the bathroom door open lean on the wall towards the shower staring while playing toxic masculinity podcast of how women and Young women should do what men tell them and I wasn't on social media a lot so I didn't know what "alpha" male ment but women would refer them as that or they would refer them selfs as that but then to every couple of days during those three weeks was like him pushing boundary after boundary to the point where I can't handle it cuz he tried to touch the doorknob to open the glass doors I told him that I wasn't comfortable two times along with my younger siblings telling him to get out because they saw him in there because the door was open which he told them that it was okay and that he was my dad and everybody deserve to be in there it was him during the third day of the first week of this happening I wanted to prove to myself that my father wasn't like his stepfather which was a S A @bus€r of mine when I was 4 through 6 and because I thought it was because of my schedule of me getting in the shower late so I changed my schedule throughout the last 2 weeks while he was pushing boundaries I would change the times where it would inconvenience my mother during her naps or whatever she needed to do to get better cuz she had appointments or she would be like dead asleep and she would need me to watch my siblings but I was busy in the shower and they were messing with her while she had a headache and my father was complaining about the hot water for dishes and other women chores I need or my mother needed to complete but the part that makes it the most messed up is that when it was 20 minutes of me being still in the shower he would walk out and I would hurry up and get out and he would go back to his game console or smoke a cigarette and not good to bed or a couple of hours on the last day of the third week my mom asked me about it cuz she was finally starting to be aware of everything and I told her to wait and I would get in the shower as soon as I got home and he will be in there and she didn't believe me but once I got home and got in there he was in there with the door open my mom grabbed him by his shoulder and ripped him out and yelled at him and told him if he ever did that again that she would go get her shotgun cuz now she's more aware than she has ever been after the crash and he said that I was taking a shower late and then maybe I should be taking showers so late and then maybe I should be using all the hot water and that I'm his daughter he changed my diapers so if he wants to be in there he can be in there if you want the door open for some air he can have it open cuz he also pays the bills and owns everything and that I should be grateful which made my mom come up with a plan to start secretly moving after that day I called my aunt and my uncle who did not believe me and thought there was a better explanation but they did see my point of view but still thought I was being dramatic they question my father and he lied and said it was for 3 days more arguments started and one day when I had a school day off my dad as soon as he found out stayed home while my mom had to be at a appointment and thought he already left but instead he went to chill and came back to have a conversation with me and told me that I was delusional and that if I was uncomfortable I should have told him and when I told him I did and that he didn't say a word he said that he must have not heard me and once I told him that I said it loud and clear and that all you did was sigh and looked like he was about to cry and was mad he said that I'm just like my mother and that we deserve each other and then went on to if he had to have boundaries with me then I have to have boundaries with my mother and we can't get changed in front of each other because we are both bisexual and then proceeded to tell me that I don't know what's going on and then told me that I should be ashamed because I don't know how it feels to feel like a predator in your own home which left me speechless because I know what it's like to have predators around you every corner and he knows this and when I told him that he told me to grow up and that my hormones should be kicking in and I should have already forgotten about his stepfather my mom came home and my dad said he wanted a divorce and felt like I would take his side which my mom says working on it and took me for a drive and I told her all about it and then a couple of days later I woke up to my mom crying and naked because my mom had sex with my dad and when he was done and he got her done he kicked her out of the room and when she was wondering why he said she was more convenient then to go get a stranger and do it in the back of a truck my mom told me to go back to bed and I did at the time not fully knowing what was going on till that day that my mom going back on her word thinking she needed him telling me not to break up the family and that if he agrees the counseling we're staying even if I said no and don't like it which he didn't of course and also I told her that I would kill her and him and that I have thought about it and was in their room multiple times with a weapon think about killing them both because of the things they do which made my mom understand that she needed to grow up and leave him now which is sad for me to say but we finished up packing we got a U-Haul and before we left my mom thought it would be fair to him if my siblings had a board game night with him which later I left cuz I couldn't handle that my siblings get a perfect dad well I always got a cursing child beating lying disciplining me for no reason father and couldn't handle that my mom didn't leave them for a military hasn't killed my father or believe me on many occasions or didn't do anything because of him and because of her always needing him he went to go find me a hour later and talked and walked with me said the same things as the other conversation and when I brought up multiple predators in my life and how he did nothing for example I had a high school boy threatened to r@p€ me in the third grade and him and his friends chase me around and has kissed me and touched me multiple times for 2 years and and he said that he couldn't because that high school boy was a friends son but told him to stop but this friend was a mistress of his which later to find out that it would have been 4 years of harassment if my mother didn't threaten to burn his house which again shows that my father is a liar and my mother even proved it to me by showing me pictures of text between the high school boy and the mother and her but at the end of the conversation a dark side of me popped out and just went to try to go grab the nearest gun to shoot him cuz my father has an eye nose twitch when he lies and he has to be active or loud when he's trying to be manipulative and at the end he thought we had a great dad and talk even though I was still crying and he was like a brick wall cuz he thought I was like my mom and I would give up my mom stopped me and told me that I shouldn't go to jail and that we are moving tomorrow she will make sure of it no more delays and no more of letting me down we move to Texas where we're originally from and while living with a relative my little siblings could talk to our father which slowly broke the relationship because he would always try to bring up me and how he wanted to talk to me which later you can't stand not talking to me that he stopped paying child support until I talk to him and in between breaking the relationship with my siblings slowly they started seeing the dad that I saw and while here with my relative my mom got some console and help cuz at the time my dad was paying for child support but there was enough to get me help which my family thinks I desperately need but when child support stopped her console stopped cuz she can't afford it then drama started happening with the relative we were with and we've been moving ever since but now my mom is on the road making a lot of money to make up for no child support until the child support office is get their affairs in order and we are living with relative to relative that will take us in and watches but my mom will be coming back soon to get a rent house so that we can finally settle down after a whole year of dealing with all this without him and I'll be 16 and I don't know how to feel cuz it marks the anniversary of a scar physical emotional and mental and still cuts deep

Hey there, fellow car enthusiasts!
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I 23(F) worked for an 80(M) Dentist for about 3 years, and what I observed and endured as an employee during that time traumatized me and made me quit dental assisting in general, not because I didn't like it but because I loved it just not the dentist and I'm going to just break it down the best I can.
Starting off this specific dentist is really well known in my city, he has been practicing for 50 years now. However not much has changed in that 50 years. His office is so old that patients will come in from 1989 and say how not a single thing has been updated or changed. The floor is carpeted with rotting wood underneath and he just doesn't care. He has like creepy dolls all around the office and creepy clowns. I almost feel like he won't change anything because he wants to still feel like he's in his prime like it's the 80's/90's still.
He denies the fact that he's getting older, he says he is 44 years old when physically and literally he is not. So maybe this is some type of symptoms of a disorder. This is just some background so you can understand the full picture.
So he only hires women of lighter complexions, also certain body size, small not to skinny but curvy but not too big. You have to have long blown out hair that's always fixed, his old rule used to be that you could not wear your hair up bc it's not appealing to him. Also you can't wear glasses for the same reason. If you were trying to get a girl to work there he would have to see a picture of her first and she couldn't have tattoos or "bad teeth" even though he would put braces on staff members for free and I witnessed that, if it was "too much" the person would be a no for him. Even having a simple nose ring was against his rules.
I started working for him when I was 19 turning 20. So I was pretty young and didn't really realize until later that all of this was just so toxic and it gets worse.And so when I found out my pregnancy was healthy I announced it and they decided to not train me on patients for pretty much my entire pregnancy because they thought i would just have my baby and leave
After being post partum and working while also being a first time mom to a baby, I begin to lose a lot of weight because I guess I was stressed. I went from being my normal weight 135 to 116 pounds.
The doctor would comment on my body and say things about my weight loss in front of patients. It made me very insecure and uncomfortable two things I have never felt in my life at a job. I started to have body dysmorphia from working for this man. When he looked at me it felt as if he was staring through me and picking me apart. And no one should I have to feel like that in the work place.
I fell into a deep depression because feeling like I can't go find a new job because as terrible as it sounds, I was attached to the toxic abuse cycle there. He would love bomb and compliment you so heavily that you almost felt bad for thinking of leaving cuz he was so old. He would say things like how much he loved your personality, you were the best employee, best with patients. It was definitely creepy. Also I felt as if I were to try to leave he would be upset or it felt like I was breaking a trusted bond. So I continued working and things...got worse
Enough about my personal experience but now for the patients.The doctor treated each patient nothing more than a dollar sign. Unless they were a known person in the community, a family friend, he would give them treatment but if they had questions or concerns about their teeth he would be very dismissive, and if they argued back he would pretty much belittle them and make them feel like they were stupid for asking a question. Saying what they wanted was "impossible" because that's "the way their teeth were". I watched him take braces off of patients and their teeth were still not aligned properly, I watched him accidentally set a patient on fire, I watched him give a girl bone loss, she lost her tooth because of something he did incorrectly.
Not to mention his entire staff has not been to any type of dental school, every single person hired basically with no experience. I was told because he couldn't "afford it", yet the man has multiple million dollar homes and luxury cars....
To even scam us further he sent us to take a super lax unsupervised "test" that he said would make us certified assistants. Came to find out that was nothing more than a piece of paper.
Not to mention probably more things he has done, like practicing half blind, also urinating on himself daily and it being reported and nothing done about it.The sterilization was absolutely horrifying. Their method is not to use an autoclave but to throw all dirty instruments in a basket and throw them in an old machine that had sterilization and water and put them through an oven baking them.
Also cold sterile which was not monitored properly, and did not soak for 24 hours. Sometimes 5-10 minutes. I just got so tired of not only him being misogynistic, but not caring for health and safety of patients, or even staff members.
And the rest of the current staff members, my heart does hurt for them for them to be in this kind of abusive cycle for so long and not want to remove themselves and realize they deserve better. This kind of environment should not be normalized. And I've watch him say god awful things about every single one of them behind their back and it's honestly sad. Why would you stand by this especially for the incredibly low amounts of pay.
Making yourself look weak to him while he sits back and laughs. It's really sad and I pray for them. And I'm telling the truth and stand by it on everything I say. No I did not get fired, I quit the job. Because I couldn't take the negativity any longer. But the more I think about it the more it angers me for people that give their money to this man.
Im currently enrolled in the Dental Hygiene program at a college. I'm really excited to become a an RDH but the thing is I'm scared working for him and just cold quitting will ruin my career. Also My question is should I report him to OSHA?

My cute dog (American Cocker Spaniel) will pass soon. He already had a bad start when he was still with his mom (inexperienced breeder). He spend the first few weeks in the hospital. Some of his brothers and sisters didn’t make it, but he did. When we had our first check up the vet told us that his lungs are not in a very good shape. The rest of his body was fine with the exception of his teeth which were close together and had some plague already.
During the years we encountered some problems. After weeks of searching what is happening we found he has an severe longterm allergy for beef. We eliminated everything which contains beef, they are everywhere even in Salmon Biscuits… after the elimination it went ok and we even got a second dog.
Everything was going well. He had some problems with teeth (bad shape, due to bad start and medicine there) and his temper like food protection or barking at cars / bikes, but it was fine and he got a good checkup every year including titer tests which were always ok. His health started to decline in the summer of 2023. He started limping on his front feed and was eating worse. We also noticed 2-3 weird spots on his skin which seems like hotspots. The vet told he was a bit heavy, he had a stiff neck and his intestines were a bit puzzled. A few sessions of acupuncture, good washing and balanced diet could help him, and it did help him for a few weeks.
In the winter his health suddenly declined and the weird spots on his skin increased and expanded over his entire body with crusts. He was losing a lot of hair. After a few vet visits, some medicine and some tests we discovered that he was highly allergy for almost everything you could imagine. This was a big message for me and my wife as it would mean we should change in the house a lot while we also have a other dog who lived the same life in perfect health. We switched to special hypoallergenic dog food of Hills so he does not react on that food and keep the other dog on his current food. We had to lock both pets apart and clean up where the other pet and also where we ate so he can’t get any other food in his stomach.
This worked for a few weeks. He remained happy when someone is home, we went to the forest or beach regularly and if I leave the house I always wants to be back as soon as possible to see my family again. I mainly work from home, so the two pets are always around and I have a deep emotional connection with them.
Unfortunately, the spots came back rapidly and he was shaking a lot. His teeth’s were also declining rapidly and his movement worsened that he could jump on the couch anymore and the stairs are done step for each step. We shifted from dexamethasone to Prednisone to see any difference, but recently we came to the conclusion that this and other treatments are not giving the results we and the vet wants. I was still looking for possible solutions, but my wife (had dogs in the past) and vet intervened that he is sick and everything we are doing could at the best only suppress symptoms, we were not making him better. The vet said we were doing everything right on food, health etc. But basically his immune system is failing and not doing what it is supposed to do.
This week we decided to put him down. He will get his final rest next Saturday, on his fifth birthday. I’m devastated and keep crying that it is going to happen. Never had a pet during my youth and I’m just worried about the gap of the unconditional love he will leave. I’m also worried about my second dog who never has been alone and plays a lot with him and what this change will do with him.
While I’m writing this, my dog is sitting next to me and shaking, but he has a lot of moments where it all looks good (with exception of the skin/fur) and he seems enjoying life now. I find it very difficult he is passing at such a young age and weird thoughts are going through my mind if i could have prevented this, do things differently or anything to expand his time here with us. I feel defeated that I couldn’t help him anymore. During the good times I keep on thinking to call off the euthanasia, but then what… wait until he has a very bad or very painful day?
No matter what, I love him and keep carrying the awesome memories and the times he dragged me and my wife through really hard times in my heart. But the grief that he will be gone soon…This is the worst I’ve ever felt in my life…

So a little bit of context I (17f) have a younger brother, (16m) who has always been the golden child. He would physically and mentally abuse me and my family, excluding my parents. In my parents eyes he is the perfect younger sibling, and I am the troubled child. My brother had a girlfriend named Nancy, my brothers name is Nick (made up names). They have been dating since they were both 14, Nancy is a beautiful girl, she is also very bright. This incident happened on Nancys birthday, Nancy didn’t have any family so our family kind of adopted her in. We were at her house, preparing to throw her a suprise birthday party. We were all sat in our places, waiting for Nancy and Nick to come to her home, Nick didn’t know about the party as he was bad at keeping secrets. They walked in through the front door, Nancy was in tears and she had a black eye. I was the first one to rush to Nancys side. She explained that Nick had punched her because she refused to get intimate with him, because they were out at a nice restaurant for lunch. I felt my blood BOIL. Nick was walked through the door about an hour later, my mother and father kept making excuses for Nick, saying that a mand pleasure is the woman’s responsibility. He walked in and I yelled at him angrily, explaing to him that I knew. Nick began yelling back, talking about how he was planning to break up with Nancy. Thats when I lost it, I started punching and kicking my brother, years of pent up abuse powering me on. Nancy was screaming at me to get off him, and my father was already on his way to drag me off of him. My mother comforted Nancy, my dad pulled me off of him, I had broken his nose and a few of his teeth fell out. A bit of content I am a trained boxer, I like working out aswell. I grabbed my car keys and drove off stranding my family to deal with him. A few hours later I got a text from my mother saying. “You are no longer a child of mine, violence is not acceptable in this house, and we will be pressing charges.” I blocked her number and just sobbed uncontrollably for hours. I just want to know if I went too far?

-Jack
Every kid growing up in Gympie in the early 90- 2000s knew about the Love Tunnel.
The love tunnel was located over the hill from the skatepark on the Riverbank. It was a massive storm water drain filled with spray paint and lore unbound throughout the generations; the glowing dick, whose name is the furthest in, the people who live inside, the bull shark that lived under the bridge just outside, all that fun stuff.
It collapsed in the late 2000’s in a flood and was eventually rebuilt, but it was all fancy, modern, safe and not the same. Back in the day it had decades of graffiti, crumbling cement, jagged metal pole framing bent and jutting out from the sides. You know, real character.
I remember when I was just a kid at the skatepark and I spotted a bunch of other kids at the metal grating of a drain. I joined them and gazed down a few metres to some older teenagers, they had trekked through this “love tunnel” under the massive hill all this way. Badass I thought. LEGENDARY.
I talked about it at school, about this mysterious “love tunnel”. It was in view from the road when I crossed the bridge everyday on my daily commutes from the backseat of mums car.
I would gaze down at the weir and see the top of the love tunnel, sliightly hidden from view by a hill. It fascinated me.
I learned all these mysterious tales; this person slept with this person there, someone took a dump at the entrance and some other girl stood in it and now she had a nickname, someone found needles, another found a homeless woman and she screamed at them. I was pumped for the next weekend. I was going to go see it for myself.
I saw too much.
Early Saturday morning I was riding my push bike through town and toward destination adventure! I started out at the skatepark, met up with a few of the regulars, a mix of 5-19y/o everyone on the half pipes and ramps had a code of comrady that I've never found in a public place anywhere else and you always had someone to hang with.
My usual crew slowly arrived through the morning, a bunch of other 10/11 year old misfits like myself and we headed on our first place on our journey, Hungry Jacks. Now we never technically stole, we found a loophole…
One or two would order a stunner meal, then we'd take privilege of the free refills and fill up the empty plastic 4L juice jugs that we all had prepped in our backpacks. Coke and red Fanta for days.
So we got our supplies and headed behind HJ, past the volleyball courts and headed down a bush track down to the river.
We walked along the banks to loop back down to where the bridge was, we passed a few teenagers fishing and a couple other groups of kids swinging from rope swings into the water or huddled in groups smoking things they shouldn't.
We eventually arrived at the weir and the stormwater drain that I had been so intrigued by. The Love Tunnel.
Climbing up the hill and seeing it up close when you were just a tiny human. It was like staring into the dark abyss of hell.
There was a small stream of water flowing out of the big grey cylinder and it was covered in multicolored quotes and crude pictures that was very eye opening at the time.
Our voices echoed as one by one we climbed up the grassy, eroding clay edging that was the makeshift path into the mouth that probably changed each time it rained. Each of us had pulled out clumps of grass that we thought were handholds. If you fell, you fell down an embankment of slippery jagged rocks poking out from the fast flowing river.
So were inside and began to walk a couple of metres in then around us the light abruptly disappeared into complete darkness. And I remember the way the sounds traveled you could feel it through your chest it was mesmerizing.
I remember bravely stepping into the darkness and taking five or six steps in. That thick darkness was something else, I ran myself back to that entrance and light, heart pounding from the adrenaline.
This turned into a game of who could go in the furthest. This stopped when one of the boys screamed out from the darkness in pain.
He was back in the light teary eyed a few moments later wet on one side and feigning a laugh. He'd slipped down and cut open his knee, it was hilarious. We teased him saying he was going to get gangrene and leprosy and a myriad of other ailments we had no idea actually was.
We decided to bail, we forgot torches, we didn't plan that part out too well, and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon being little menaces.
We met the next day with a game plan, we had an array of various sized torches, from small ones that didn't do anything, one of those giant rectangle ones that was our main light source, a couple of handheld ones, one which flickered and the other stopped working before we even got into the tunnel.
We got in safely and tested out our torches and began walking into the unknown. It was pretty much the same as before, but there were strange things, old makeshift bongs, shopping bags, random shoes, a shopping trolley, a mattress that was all moldy and rotted. I still to this day do not understand how people managed to get that shit in there.
We passed a section where someone had thrown a can of red paint all over the walls, the amount of those ‘S’ symbols was more terrifying.
We saw light up ahead, we were passing our first grate. It was kind of daunting looking up towards it. Even getting on each other's shoulders we couldn't reach. There was an array of broken beer bottles and glass was everywhere, under the grate was a dead snake amongst some debris.
We had a debate whether to go further, we ended up going on at least until the next grate, we came to a fork, one seemed like a smaller offshoot so we stuck to the bigger side.
There were more offshoots and we came to a part where the big pipes split off into three under another grate. We gazed up hoping to get an identifier of our location, but all we could see was blue. We called out to see if we could get anyone's attention.
“Cooooweeee” we shouted in unison, the sound echoing in all directions.
We were laughing and having a grand time until something shouted back, something that still shakes me to my core to this day.
Some yobbo crackhead chick in her fifties with this ratty pink tank top that was all stretched half showing her saggy titties. “What the fuck you think you little cunts doing down here.” This chick screeched at us through her few teeth or something along the lines of that. She just exploded at us with a barrage of threats.
We were shocked silenced moving together to make one mass.
One of the boys screamed when a skinny guy emerged from the darkness. He was covered in tattoos with scraggly hair and a beard, he was all crazy eyed and pantless.
Someone yelled out to run and it was all the motivation we needed.
We could hear them screaming and the guy ran after us, we heard glass shattering behind us, they must have thrown a bottle. We were legging it.
We got split up in our running, I fell down, tripping over some rubbish, one mate stayed back to help me, this left us without a torch. We came across the same kid who slipped over yesterday, he had slipped down again cutting open his other knee. He wore those with badges of honor at school, but he was blubbering like a baby at this point.
He had the flickering torch and it disoriented us more than helped, as it turned on and off every time he took a step. I thought we were lost but we found the other grate, then eventually the entrance.
The others were already climbed down, we were soon by their side panting in the grass and wiping away our tears so the others couldn't see.
We ran back over to the skatepark and immediately told every kid we saw.
That was the wildest shit we had ever experienced. Sure we’d seen crazy up on the street but to have it jump out at you from the shadows in a storm water drain was next level.
By that night one of the other boys had spilled to his parents about our escapades and a couple of other mums got phone calls, three got in trouble, two of us didn't, including me.
I never stepped foot back in that tunnel, I swam at the weir more times than I could count afterwards though and never encountered anyone else too sketchy.
I think only a year or two later I saw on the news people dying in storm water drains somewhere else in Aus, we never realized how dangerous they could be back then. Lol.
Every party or get together afterwards it was a crowd favorite to bring up. It was a good conversation starter and joined the tales amongst my friends of the weird shit that happens in ‘Helltown’.
Growing up and looking back they were probably just homeless drug addicts freaked out from a bunch of children's voices yelling out coooweee from the underground where they thought they were alone. That would have scared the shit outta me if I was them.
Good times.
.VJ
Tl:Dr kids go into storm water drain and find creepy couple who scream at them.

Before I moved in to that house, my roommate was a fairly good friend because she was close to my ex who had recently passed from a heart condition. We got close while grieving his passing and felt a responsibility to help when we could. I had blessings coming in by the multitude and asa Buddhist I must give to receive or lose even more than having. She fell back into active addiction and since she put her home in her mom's name during her divorce 3-4 years prior, her mom was threatening to kick her out if changes weren't made because she has been covering all the taxes and living expenses of her and her then boyfriend, who lived with her at that time. I offered her a job working for me and offered to help with bus fare and provide lunch on days she worked. Her relationship was getting pretty toxic and she worked 2 days, asked to be advanced for 4 more days she never worked, and stopped answering my messages entirely. It out the blue 2 months later she reached out and I told her I was moving out because my lease wasn't getting renewed and had to pick where I wanted to move to and fast. She told me she wanted him out and was going to get a TPO so he couldn't fight her on leaving and wanted to be able to sell his tools and things as"revenge for the abuse she suffered". I didn't agree with that but agreed to support her and her keep her safe. She begged me to move in to help reinforce him needing to stay away. I ignorantly accepted and moved in to her 2nd bedroom. The 2nd day there we sat down and hashed out the details with her mom who at the time said "sounds like you ladies know what you're doing so I'll leave you to it." She let her mom come by every day it seemed like but the home was "good thing she's not your landlord or we'd be screwed!" After her ex stayed away a while she got bored or lonely, not quite sure which. She tracked him down and has him over while I was working one night. I was furious as he JUST burned his friends house down to the ground and caught him trying to pour my diffuser oils on paper and they had burn marks on them like he wanted to set my room in fire. I told her I wanted nothing to do with her being around him and want happy that he was there. So he stole my house key while sleeping. No matter how many times I asked, I couldn't get them to give me another one after that. That led to me having to stay at hotels I would walk to when I couldn't get inside and had only 5 or 6 hours before my next double shift. One day coming home she stopped him walking away from the house as we were pulling up so she pulled up next to him and invited him over. I got mad and went inside after pulling up to the house and packed a bag to go stay with my boyfriend who I had to make leave after she asked him to move in too but we went with it and wasn't one of the big problems. I feel asleep early and woke up to ask kinda of messages about her not narcaning him but thinks she should. She thought he might not be breathing but then sent memes and made some jokes. This man couldn't stand opiates, he hated her doing them and was the heart of what they broke up over. He despised them and wouldn't have willing done fentanyl when you couldn't get him to take a Vicodin after pulling his wisdom teeth. He was on life support for 4 days and his family took him off when time he was brain dead from losing oxygen for so many hours. She was a licensed nurse. She knew what to do and how to help him. She said so many times. She's proud she did it and that terrified me. Not enough to destroy my spiritual livelihood and lie and cover up such serious violations. Her mom called me twice during the week he was on life support and once after. 2 days after I refused the last time to give the story of him being on drugs already, her Mom busted into my room and screamed at me demanding for me wake up and come to the living room immediately. She told me I was to get out immediately because I broke in when I was locked out and used my bedroom window to get in and left the house unsecured 2 times that she found when she came by to "check on things". I knew that's not how things in the real world go so I just avoided her and paid my rent as usual. Turns out earlier that day she went and filled for an eviction and had worked out with her daughter how to hide it. She was to remove all notifications and not mention anything so I would keep paying and wouldn't take my belongings and she could make money or keep them if she wanted like she got to do with her ex's things. She has most everything he owned on marketplace 24 hours after he passed. Online the court even notes that "service made to: adult female roommate" and labeled it "successful service" even though she was operating with a huge conflict of interest and nobody questioned it. I lost my job as she was hired by me to transport me back and forth. I couldn't afford hotels very long. I lived in abandoned houses. I'm back in hotels on vouchers now. I'm working and saving for a car to get a better job and get around. I got my cats back from her 6 months after but with wings and scabs on the one she didn't like. Obviously she abused her and I had to pay her to give them back in that condition. My other cat is pregnant but an indoor cat so I guess she let her out anyways. I was sent a message that my things that were left would be placed at the road at a specific time and told to come get what I wanted it it was going to the trash. When I showed up I was meet with police and her video recording me and my helpers in our faces taunting me about being on welfare and wanted to know where my free lawyer was because I would need one when she sues me for storage fees when I was refused the ability to retrieve my belongings 4 times prior. I set up mediation and she started and then ended it 10 minutes in. Nothing has been done about the murder. I still have all the proof and evidence. As well as witnesses. I feel like they are getting away with murder AND so much more. I was left without so much as a cell phone or transportation. I slept in streets. I have trauma from this crap and I'm overwhelmed with what to even to after her for. There's nothing legal about any of this whole situation. At one point when I was allowed to get a few things but not much, her mother drive right beside me while I carried my things tormenting me and laughing at me for being homeless and poor because "i was learning who I was f*ing with and getting the consequences for it". She literally said "bet you wish you would change your story now, didn't Cha?" NOBODY HAS EVEN TAKEN A STATEMENT FROM ME!! there's no story told as of now. Am off this was done preemptively. And no lawyers claim to take care like mine. Where the heck do I turn then? Am I just left to accept this because they have money and were able to take all mine? I'm in Ohio btw. This was September of 23

“What do you mean it’s wrong?” said Tamara, becoming frustrated with Samuel.
“I'm trying to tell you that plants do not eat earth. They just absorb nutrients from it,” Samuel replied, equally annoyed as this was the fourth time he had explained it. “Look, just take my word for it, OK,” he added.
“Fine, but you will have to explain it again,” Tamara retorted.
Samuel and Tamara were partners in a scientific study of their forest home. It was genuinely idyllic in every sense of the word; the trees stretched high into the sky, and everyone was covered in succulent leaves, a deep and gorgeous shade of green. Around their trunks were rings of flowers gathered from every continent, and a thick carpet of grass lay on the ground.
The two sat underneath a chestnut tree, writing up their findings for the day. It had focused mainly on tree sizes and growth rates, and they had continued this study for, on and off, almost a year.
Samuel turned to look at his assistant and found that she was just as remarkable as the day they had first met: golden locks, like living sunlight, tied neatly in a bun. Her eyes were an emerald green, and all in all, she was gorgeous. However, it was when you came to her waist that things became truly incredible because rather than a pair of legs, there was a long and wide snake’s tail.
It was huge, at least seven metres long and as wide as her torso. The scales were the same beautiful colour as her hair and reflected the sunlight in such a way that she appeared to glow. She was wearing an ultramarine tunic with a black diamond in the centre. She was like this not because of a plague, a curse or some mutation; Tamara was a Lamia; it was how she was born.
Samuel, on the other hand, looked far less impressive. He was around five foot ten, with dull brown hair and equally dull eyes. His stomach stuck out from the rest of him. No amount of exercise was able to get rid of it.
He was by every description a ‘dull as dishwater’ human. His clothes, however, were slightly more interesting. He wore a navy blue tunic with a thick leather belt wrapped around his waist. On his feet was a pair of excellent leather boots, able to withstand whatever the world threw at them and on his forearms and shins, he wore something Tamara had never seen or even heard of before: a pair of vambraces and greaves, Samuel called it armour.
Three strips of rugged leather layered on top of one another made up each piece, and between each layer was a collection of tiny metal beads. When Tamara asked what they were for, Samuel said they were for protection.
All of this would have been inconceivable to Samuel two years ago, but he had become used to it in time. Samuel was not born into this world; he had arrived. How? He did not know, but he remembered it all vividly; his senses had been overloaded, and at first, he believed he had died.
“What’s wrong?” Tamara asked Samuel, who had been silent for over a minute.
Samuel snapped out of his daydream and said: “nothing, just thinking about that day again.”
Tamara nodded and said nothing else; she knew exactly what was wrong.
Samuel went straight back to writing. When Samuel first showed up, there had been no paper or pens, but what was even stranger than the lack of these apparent necessities was that Samuel had had to invent both of these items.
Tamara and those like her did not possess a written language; they relied entirely on their memories, and until Samuel had shown up, Tamara had not even conceived of the notion, but she had picked it up astonishingly quickly.
“It still sounds like eating to me,” said Tamara, bringing the conversation back to the original topic.
“Well, it isn’t; eating requires a mouth and stomach,” Samuel replied.
“Says who?” Tamara asked defiantly.
“Says me,” Samuel answered.
Samuel jotted down the last of his notes and left the pages to dry in the sun. Samuel then turned to his right and looked at a large book, the size of a chair’s seat, bound in yellow leather and knotted by animal tendons. He picked it up and began to leaf through the pages.
His eyes glanced over paragraphs about oak trees and orchid flowers until he finally reached the section he sought; the page was titled Silver Birch (Betula Pendula).
“Have you finished the drawing on Silver Birch yet?” Samuel asked without looking.
Tamara was currently focused on a drawing of sunflowers, but she understood his request and, without looking up or saying a word, handed him the picture he wanted.
Samuel took the drawing and took several moments admiring it. Like all her work, the picture was astounding; not only did it look like an actual Silver Birch, but it also seemed to be alive, as though it would start blowing in the breeze.
Samuel punched four holes along the sheet's left side, undid the tendon strings and then attached the drawing behind the title page. He added eight more pages to his book, four of text and four illustrations.
Their work was now done; there was no more writing or drawing today, and he placed their work into a knapsack Tamara had brought with her. Samuel turned to his partner and asked: “so what do you want to do now?”
Tamara looked up through the canopy and could make out the silhouettes of several birds and finally said: “I’d quite like to fly.”
Samuel smiled, chuckled and said, “Yes, so would I, but that would require every member of the village working together for decades.”
Tamara looked Samuel in the eye and said: “are you making fun of me?”
Samuel did not reply; he just looked Tamara dead in the eye. She observed every minute twitch on Samuel's face and concluded he was not.
“How could a person fly?” She asked, suddenly intrigued.
“I don’t know, I’m not an engineer,” Samuel answered, “So apart from flying, what else do you want to do?”
Tamara let out a sigh and said: “I guess we will just have to walk.”
These were the moments Samuel lived for, just a quiet afternoon with his best friend enjoying a stroll; he was utterly content.
“You seem chipper,” Tamara said, noticing the growing smile on Samuel’s face.
“That’s because I feel chipper” he replied
They passed through the trees, heading towards their favourite spot, a beach by the side of a lake so large you could not see the other side.
“So, how is everyone?” Samuel said, trying to spark a conversation.
“You mean every single one because that could take a while?” Tamara replied.
“Let’s start with your mother” he clarified.
Tamara’s mother, Pancha, was more or less just a larger version of her daughter, just as brash and headstrong.
“She’s fine; she has finally stopped asking me what happened every time I come to meet you,” she said.
“Really, and it only took her two and a half years,” said Samuel with a smirk.
Yes, that first year here, had been a real trial. Samuel had never felt so scared, isolated and persecuted in his life. When he thought about it, he could still feel the fear and the hopelessness.
A gust of air slammed into Samuel’s face, bringing him back to the present, and what a wonderful time it was. The water was crystal clear, the beach was covered in sparkling white sand, and the distinct aroma of water wafted through the air. Samuel breathed it all in as Tamara spread herself over the beach.
The cooling breeze that Samuel found so enjoyable, Tamara found far less agreeable. Tamara was ectothermic or cold-blooded. She could not maintain her body temperature; she needed to absorb it from her environment, and the wind was slowly draining her.
“Comfortable down there?” Samuel asked.
Tamara turned her head, looked up at him and said: “Actually, yes, not as good as my bed, but still fine.”
Samuel left Tamara to her thermoregulation and strolled down to the water’s edge, “stay where I can see you!” Tamara called.
“Yes, MOM,” Samuel answered sarcastically, though he knew it was more for Tamara’s sake than his; she had a problem with open spaces.
Samuel closed his eyes, stretched his arms above his head, feeling his muscles strain against the tension, and yawned. Small tears formed in his eyes and wiped them away. He had only been up for a few hours but was ready for bed.
“Too much thinking, that was the problem,” Samuel mumbled to himself.
The sunlight sparkled on the water’s surface. It seemed as though millions of diamonds were suddenly brought into existence, danced for a few moments, and then vanished as quickly as they came. It was beautiful, just like everything else here.
He climbed up a rock that jutted from that sand and sat down, his legs dangling over the edge. As he kicked his legs, a ray of sun caught his greaves, and although the leather was rather dull, it still dazzled him.
Samuel heard a sound reminiscent of sandpaper brushing against wood, and he knew at once what it was. He waited four more seconds and said, without moving an inch, “Don’t even think about it!”
“How did you know?” Tamara asked, feeling simultaneously impressed, confused and disappointed.
Samuel looked her in the eye and replied: “who do you think you’re dealing with?”
Tamara had not clambered up the rock like Samuel; she had simply raised herself on her tail so she stood over two metres high.
“Are you feeling better?” he asked.
Tamara smiled and answered, “yes, thanks for asking.”
Tamara moved behind Samuel and then began to coil around the boulder, and if he had not experienced it all before, it would have been unnerving. Tamara was only twelve and a half, yet she was already far stronger than him. Samuel was sure if Tamara really wanted to, she could crush a bison to death. After the graceful dance around the stone, she sat down beside Samuel.
The pair was silent for a few minutes, except for a quick coughing fit by Samuel; they took in the unnatural beauty of their surroundings.
“Hey, I have a question,” said Tamara, coming back to her senses.
“What is it?” Samuel replied.
“You still haven’t told me why we are studying the forest?” She asked.
In an instant, Samuel became deeply confused. To him, it seemed all too obvious why they were doing it.
“There is no practical reason for doing it. We do it so that we know,” Samuel answered.
Tamara became silent. Samuel realised that she was deep in thought and decided to give her all the time she needed until she finally said: “Is this one of those human things?”
Samuel, upon hearing this, gave a small chuckle and answered: “yes, if you like.”
Suddenly, something caught Samuel’s eye. It was a crab, no bigger than a golf ball. Its back was powder blue, and it held its arms upright, its claws pointing down. The tiny creature would walk forward, scoop some sand into its mouth, and then leave a small pellet behind.
“Look at that!” said Samuel, nudging Tamara’s shoulder and pointing at the tiny crustacean. Tamara turned her head and looked directly at where he was pointing; she strained her eyes at what she thought was a pebble; she was about to climb down and collect it when it suddenly moved, and she squealed.
Tamara dragged the bottom end of her tail up from the beach and timidly said, “What’s that?”
Samuel remembered that tone of voice all too well, and it brought with it some unpleasant memories, but he pushed them to the back of his mind and said: “it’s a crab.”
Samuel was certain he had seen this type of crab before but could not put a name to the image. Samuel was sure he had read about them, watched a documentary, or attended a lecture, but he could not remember. Ultimately, he decided to drop it for now and see if the answer would come to him.
Tamara kept staring at it as though she believed it would pounce if she took her eyes off it for one second.
“Is it dangerous?” she asked, her voice hushed to ensure the creature did not notice her.
Samuel sighed and answered: “it’s a crab, Tamara, unless you happen to be a nematode then…”
Samuel paused mid-sentence as his brain finally connected the dots and asked, “Wait, you have never seen a crab before?”
This perplexed Samuel for a moment until he remembered that Tamara did not have a television, a car, and she could not fly a plane, so it was not unexpected that she would not know what a crab was.
Tamara shook her head in response to his question, and Samuel added: “you know what a woodlouse is, right?”
Tamara nodded and said, “I like woodlice.”
“Well, a crab is just a type of woodlouse that lives near water,” Samuel concluded.
However, he could tell from her face that she was unconvinced, so he got off the rock, walked over to the tiny creature, wary of its pincers, and picked it up by its backside.
“What are you doing?” Tamara called in alarm.
Samuel held the animal, its legs flailing wildly in an attempt to escape, and said, “showing you there is nothing to be worried about.”
Taking care not to crush it, Samuel clambered back up the rock and presented the animal to her. Tamara stared at it for some as the crab bobbed its eye up and down and tried in vain to find a part of Samuel it could nip.
“It’s actually kind of… cute,” Tamara said after two minutes of silence.
She relaxed her tail and let it rest on the beach once more. “Can it hold it?” She asked Samuel, fear being replaced by interest.
“Of course, you can. Just make sure you hold it by its back and be careful of the pincers; if they get you, it will hurt.”
Samuel handed the crab over to her and watched as Tamara began to inspect the animal from every angle. The crab had a white underbelly and purple joints.
“You think you could draw it from memory?” Samuel asked.
“Hmm?” Tamara replied. Samuel let out a sigh and repeated. After three more attempts, Tamara finally took notice and said, “Yes.”
Five minutes later, Samuel said, “we should probably put him back now.”
Tamara moaned about it, but Samuel said: “he has his own life, Tamara; you can’t keep him!”
She conceded, grumbling under her breath, and gently placed the animal back on the sand. As the crab dashed away, the two noticed that while they had been fixated on that single crab, thousands more had emerged on the beach.
Upon seeing the swarm of animals make their way across the beach, Tamara let out a squeal and once again pulled her tail up off the beach. The army of crabs marched along the shore. The collective walking produced a sound loud enough to hear from fifty metres away, and at last, Samuel remembered what they were and said, with no small amount of satisfaction in his voice, “they’re soldier crabs.”
“What are they going to do?” Tamara asked, concerned by the sudden appearance of so many creatures.
Samuel kept staring at the gathering, but he heard her question and replied, “They’re just feeding,” and added quickly, “But we are far too big for them.”
“That's odd,” Samuel said under his breath.
“I know there are so many of them,” Tamara said, deeply unnerved by the sheer vastness of the swarm.
“No,” Samuel said, “There should be this many of them; it’s where they are that is strange.”
Tamara momentarily took her eyes off the army and asked, “So where should they be.” There was a slight flicker of fear in her voice at the prospect of being invaded; rats and mice where bad enough. They did not need another pest.
“By the sea, not a freshwater lake,” he answered.
“The Sea?” Tamara almost yelled. Samuel was a little surprised by this enthusiasm and turned to face her.
“Yes,” he said.
“Have you ever been to the sea,” she asked.
“Yes, many times,” Samuel said, uncertain where this was going.
“I bet it’s wonderful,” Tamara added with a smile.
Samuel was silent as his brain connected a few dots and asked: “how can you know about the sea if you don’t know about crabs?”
She smiled; Tamara enjoyed it when she knew something that he did not, “there is a story that my mom told me that before we came to this forest, we were a different people that lived by the sea.” Tamara paused for a breath.
“But then humans came and drove us from the water, and we fled inland. Our people split into two. One half went to the mountains, and the other settled in the forest.”
Tamara finished and waited for his reply. Samuel, however, just kept looking at her. Tamara was concerned that she had upset him; he did not like it when humans were labelled as the enemy, yet his face and posture were not those of one who was sad or angry.
“You people blame us for everything, don’t you?” Samuel said with a chuckle.
“If there is a fire, it’s a human’s fault. If there is an earthquake, it’s a human’s fault. If a little Boreray boy drinks all their apple juice in one gulp, it’s a human’s fault.”
“So, getting back on topic, where did these “Soldier crabs” come from anyway? We have visited this lake for over two years and never seen even a glimpse?” Tamara asked. Samuel looked back to the slowly advancing army, and several ideas flashed through his head.
“Maybe they have been dormant up until now; perhaps they make a large circle around the lake shore, and it’s simply luck that we were here on the day they passed by, or maybe the migrated here from somewhere else.”
They watched the crabs' ceaseless march until Tamara said, “These things are still giving me the creeps. Can we go now?” Samuel could not argue that there was something eerie about all of these animals appearing, seemingly, from nowhere; however, there was still one thing he had to be certain of.
“You think you could draw one from memory?” he asked.
Tamara’s face contorted in a scowl. Samuel, for all his good points, could become far too focused on his research, which often caused him to become ignorant of other people.
Yet she knew sitting here yelling at him would accomplish nothing, so she told him the truth: “Yes, can we go now!” Samuel nodded and then slid off the rock. Tamara copied him, and they both slinked back to the cover of the trees.
Now that she was beneath the canopy, Tamara let out an enormous sigh of relief as the anxiety slowly left, and the close air warmed her body. On the other hand, Samuel began to chafe at the stagnant air while his head began to bead with sweat, but it was nothing he had not experienced before, so he gritted his teeth and bared with it.
With their plans now ruined, Tamara and Samuel wandered aimlessly through the woods, chatting about what they could do to fill the rest of the day. Several ideas arose, including visiting a nearby waterfall and a set of monument stones, but none truly appealed to them.
In the end, Tamara said, “how about we just call it a day?”
Samuel was happy about this. Tamara was his only form of human contact, yet he could not deny the pointlessness of wandering around the woods, so he said, “Ok, but let’s take the long way.”
Samuel heard a sound above him and saw a red squirrel scampering through the trees.
“Is it difficult?” Tamara asked.
Samuel looked at Tamara and replied, “Well, it can give me a crick in my neck sometimes.”
Tamara let out a short laugh and clarified, “No, I mean, is it difficult being so inquisitive? It looks exhausting.”
He was not entirely sure what she meant by that. To Samuel, Tamara was every bit as curious as him, so he stated: “you tell me, you went out looking for me just because you wanted to know.”
“True,” answered Tamara, “and everyone has always said that I am always asking questions, but you’re like a boar that just ate sugar beat.”
“I have no idea what that means,” Samuel said, shaking his head. “But I do know that people always told me, when I was a boy, that humans are, by their nature, infinitely curious, but personally, I think that it’s just how I was born.” there was a pause, and he quickly added, “just like you.”
Tamara’s fingers started to numb as she brushed them against the bark of passing trees. She took a good look at the trees around her. Tamara had lived her entire life sheltered by these trees. This place was her home, her family’s home and her friend’s home, and she loved it, a perfect example of the innate beauty of nature.
Samuel, however, was of a different opinion this forest disturbed him, though this feeling had diminished with time. The trees all grew in perfect symmetry, four and a half strides form each other.
From Tamara’s perspective, there was nothing strange about this, yet Samuel often said that this should not be possible, that the wood should be a mess and that the trees should grow in an unorganised fashion. Yet to Tamara, the idea of messy forests was just as impossible as a structured one was to him.
Noon came and went, and Samuel’s stomach began to rumble. His breakfast was becoming a distant memory; he thought he might be able to bear it for another hour or so, but as they travelled closer to the village, Tamara started to become irritated by Samuel’s constant growling.
“We need to find you something to eat before that sound drives me nuts!” Tamara stated bluntly.
“That’s all well and good, my dear, so long as you can materialise food out of the aether,” answered Samuel, with just a hint of condescension in his voice.
Tamara did not know what the aether was, but it did not matter. “No, but I do know a nearby tree with some great fruit in it,” she replied.
Samuel found this strange for two reasons. Firstly, he found it very difficult to believe there was a source of food in this forest that either he had not found, or Tamara had not told him about yet.
Secondly that, Tamara would know much about something she could not eat. Tamara was strictly carnivorous; she ate nothing but meat.
He wanted answers fast and asked: “So why haven’t you told me about this before?”
“Because I can’t stand the smell, that’s why, and I didn’t want you stinking up the place,” she explained.
“If it smells disgusting, what makes you think I will eat it?” he asked.
“Because the Boreray can’t get enough of it, some of them say that they taste like all the best parts of every fruit and vegetable we grow, which is a shame because they smell like all the worst,” she added.
He asked no more questions. He was too busy thinking; this fruit sounded so familiar, but he could not remember. The need to survive day in day out had pushed most of his standard learning, from school and university to the back of his mind, not forgotten mind you just buried.
I'm back with Tamara and Samuel latest adventure. If you like what you've read so far and want to know where it's going you can find the complete story by following the links below.
e-book(US/UK/CA/AU/DE)
Physical(US/UK/CA/DE)
If you do decide to read ahead please leave a review or rating, every single one helps immensely, and helps me keep doing what I'm doing.
Also the e-book will be at a reduced price until the last chapter it published on reddit.

Hi all, I had purchased a signed Dying star vinyl last summer when Ruston was opening for Noah Kahan, but I left it it my BFs car since it was too delicate to fly home with. My Bf's car was broken into and the vinyl was stolen, and I have been absolutely heartbroken ever since. Is anyone selling a signed vinyl or have any good leads as to where I could get one?

So my father used to own a cabin. In fact he used to own a lot of different properties. Which I suppose is just a roundabout way of saying that we grew up with money. Where things get a bit complicated is how he actually made that money.
The line that he constantly fed us was that he was an accountant running his own firm in an office in the city. Long hours, lots of business trips. We never saw him much. And whenever we did, he always seemed tired, his eyes perpetually bloodshot, as if he were always trying to force them to stay open.
He was sent off to prison right after I’d finished my first year of college.
The sentence? Fifteen years, for washing hundreds of millions of dollars for numerous cartels. Two weeks after he’d been booked, my mother committed suicide. As it turns out, she’d been helping him out through the entire thing and was facing some time herself. I guess she didn’t want to deal with all that and took the drastic way out.
A few months later, the government had seized pretty much all his property.
All of it, except for that cabin in the woods.
It took a long time for me to feel normal again. But eventually I managed it. Went back to school and graduated with a good enough GPA which allowed me to snag some shitty office job a few months later. But it was enough to pay the bills.
Fast forward about another year and I’ve basically scrubbed that entire sequence of events out of my brain. It took a little bit of therapy, a lot of psychedelics, but I finally did it, to the point where I was comfortable enough to go back to that cabin, the one place where I’d see my father for more than a few weeks at a time during our summer trips.
I decided to take along three of my friends from Uni - Jack, Pedro, Randy.
We drove down there at the beginning of May. The road leading to the cabin hadn’t been maintained at all and as a result, it had become borderline undrivable. I decided to save my vehicle the stress and parked in a nearby lot, leaving us about a one-and-a-half-mile trek through the woods, which really wasn’t so bad.
Our time in the cabin was pretty much spent getting drunk and stoned, and by the third night we had completely run out of food.
We decided to take the thirty minute walk over to the nearest rest stop, where I knew that there was a 24/7 diner. So we go there, eat our meals, and on the way back we notice a burning smell in the woods, as if there was a bonfire raging about nearby.
Of course that was a bit strange given that it was around 2AM. But we didn’t think too much of it at the time and we kept walking.
It was only when the smell continued to grow stronger as we got closer to the cabin that we understood something was very wrong. Soon it had become suffocating, and we could see the night sky tinged with orange in the near distance.
I felt my heart drop into my stomach and immediately I was sprinting, my worst fear realized as I reached the clearing where the cabin was located.
Completely up in flames, plumes of dark smoke blending in with the night.
It was a mix of different emotions that hit me all at once, the combination of them creating a sense of dread so deep I hadn’t thought it possible.
After reeling myself in, I called 9-1-1, with the operator telling me that the fire department would be on their way but wouldn’t be able to reach us for at least thirty minutes. The four of us walked away from the cabin in silence, getting far enough so that the smoke was no longer scratching at our throats.
Around ten minutes later, we noticed that the orange tinge in the sky had suddenly disappeared. And I mean suddenly. Like, gone in a single blink. I thought I might’ve been hallucinating, but it was clear from their expressions that my friends were seeing something similar.
Cautiously, we started making our way back towards the cabin, noticing that the smoke was no longer heavy in the air, having cleared up considerably. Once we reached the clearing, it had disappeared altogether.
I looked ahead, my brain working overtime to comprehend the sight before me. The cabin was no longer on fire. Burnt to a crisp, sure. But the raging, overwhelming flames that had been consuming it just minutes prior had somehow completely fizzled out.
The four of us looked between each other, as if to confirm we were all still seeing the same thing.
Using the flashlight on my phone to survey the damage, I found pretty much what I’d expected. Complete destruction. Absolutely zero hope of recovering anything.
I started taking some deep breaths, trying to calm myself down when I heard Pedro yelling out from the other side.
“Guys… where the fuck did this thing come from?”
We all walked over to him. Nestled in the debris was the corpse of… something. A monstrosity.
It was about the size of a bear, with the sections of its body that weren’t burnt showing pale, clammy skin with deep cuts etched throughout it, in what looked to be some kind of crude pattern. Its head had been smashed in, leaving nothing but an abnormally wide bottom jaw which was still baring long, black teeth. It had an uncountable number of long, thick arms that it was using to hold something that resembled a human infant, one that appeared to be completely unscathed, devoid of any burn marks. The longer I stared at it, the more that I was convinced I could see it breathing.
It was a bizarre enough sight to put us into a near-trance. What eventually snapped us out of it was the chanting.
It was barely noticeable at first, slowly escalating in pitch until it was clear that there were several human voices shouting in unison. Their tones were animalistic, their words strung together with just the bare beginnings of a rhythm. It sounded like they were speaking English, though I could hardly make out anything they were saying.
The strangest part though, was how quickly it was getting closer to us. Definitely not a walking pace. It was more like a sprint.
The four of us shared a quick glance between each other and immediately there was an understanding.
We ran like bats out of hell, tripping over branches, our own feet.
But eventually we reached my car, all of us scrambling to pile into it. As I was fumbling for my keys, the chanting had become deafening, to a point that hardly made sense. It sounded as if there were speakers lined up in a circle around us, all blasting that horrible noise.
And the second that I had put the keys into the ignition, things went silent. I found myself holding my breath as I looked up, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness until what I was seeing was unmistakable. Several figures standing completely still at the edge of the woods. All human-shaped but far too large to be people.
All the air being held in my lungs flooded out with one big exhale and I slammed the vehicle into drive and took a sharp turn before speeding the hell out of there, refusing to look in the rearview until we had made it into the highway.
I drove until I had reached the rest stop, which was now hosting an absurd number of police cars. I parked, got out, and approached one of the cops, asking if they were here because of the fire.
The cop shook his head. “Fire? No. Has there been a fire?”
I explained the situation with the cabin to him, deciding to leave out the creature and the chanting for the time being.
The cop nodded slowly, his expression remaining largely the same throughout.
“Alright,” he said. “We’ll look into it. And then give you an update in the morning. For tonight, just get a hotel or something.”
We exchanged numbers and I thanked him. As I began to walk away, he called out to me.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
I turned back around.
“Yeah,” I said. “Sure.”
“Do you happen to be (my dad’s name)’s son?”
For a while I just stared at him. Eventually I nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “I thought I recognized you.”
“I don’t understand,” I told him. “I’ve never seen you before.”
The cop took a deep breath before taking a quick look around. “Come here,” he said. “Come close.”
Tentatively, I did so.
“I can’t tell you everything. I don’t even know everything. But I think you should have the right to know the truth about your father. All of the stuff that’s happened here tonight, all of the shit that you’ve seen… it has something to do with him.
He took another look around before continuing. “Cartels, right? Was that the story they told you? It’s not so creative. But I guess it doesn’t have to be creative to be believable. Cause the shit that he was actually mixed up in… you would not believe unless you’ve seen it for yourself.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I asked.
“Look, I have your number. I’ll be in touch tomorrow morning. This is something I’m curious about as well. Maybe you can give me some answers, point me in the right directions. But not here. So get out of here before people start noticing you. And stay safe.”
I didn’t feel like staying in a hotel that night, so I drove back into the city, dropping everybody off before arriving back at my own apartment.
Of course I couldn’t sleep that night, my eyes wired open into the morning as I waited for the officer to call. He still hadn’t by the time that noon rolled around and so I tried calling him instead.
No answer.
Eventually I did receive a call from the police, telling me that my father’s cabin had burned down and that it was due to a forest fire.
I told them that wasn’t possible because there had been no forest fire and that I suspected foul play and wanted it to be investigated.
“It’s already been investigated,” are the exact words that the officer told me. “Don’t worry about it. Just get in touch with insurance. Go over your options.”
And before I could say anything else, he had hung up on me.
It was a mixture of anger and curiosity that compelled me to drive back down there. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t for the road leading towards the rest stop to be blocked altogether. There were two cop cars guarding the barrier, with a single officer signalling any vehicles approaching to turn around.
I pulled over to the side of the road and after some careful deliberation, I decided to get out and approach him and ask what was going on. Just to see what he might say.
When I finished the question, he stared at me for a long time. Uncomfortably long.
“Emergency construction,” is what he eventually told me.
After that encounter, I pretty much dropped trying to figure things out.
Some weird things have started happening to me since. Every night, I swear I can hear a baby crying in the apartment across from mine. The apartment that I thought had been occupied by a pair of college kids who definitely do not have children.
That cop that was supposed to call me finally did, a few nights ago. When I answered, I was met with dead silence on the other end. Nearly thirty seconds of it until the line clicked dead.
There’s an abandoned house sitting across the street from my apartment building, one that’s supposedly been there for years because the development of the store meant to take its place keeps getting delayed.
Somebody has started staring at me through its second-floor window. Whenever I catch them doing it, they’re quick to close the blinds, so I can never catch any details. But I know that the moment I turn away from it, their eyes are back on me.
I can’t confirm that any of these things are related. Whether it has anything to do with my father.
I just know that I don’t want to deal with it and that I want it to end.

I'm a 27 yr old, who feels kinda lost. Granted I have my 2 kids, a stable job, a wonderful boyfriend, and a supportive group of wonderful people in my life. I just found out that I'm pregnant and the family is excited. However I'm currently taking my abuser to court and it's been getting stalled. Multiple times. What I mean by stalled is that they keep pushing it off for one reason or another. I wanna give you guys some background before I ask my questions.
When I was 11 my biological father signed his rights away, gave me to my biological mother and (at that time) my stepdad, and left my life. I remember, on my birthday, the school threw a wonderful party for me. Then my dad picked me up from school early and we drove to a gas station miles away and I saw my biological mother for the first time since I was 8. My stepdad gave me gifts and I saw my dad signing something on the back of his car and handing it to my biological mother. We eventually got back to my bio mom's house (after a tire flying off the car and spending a night in a hotel room) and got settled. We lived in an old house and they converted the dinning room into a bedroom for me. So in order to get into the kitchen from the front room, they had to come through my room. Every night my stepdad would come by and run my head. Tracing over my hair from the front of my head to the end of my pixie cut hair. At that time I thought that this is what a dad who loves their kid does because my bio dad wasn't that affectionate. 6 months after we got home from the gas station, my stepdad adopted me. Since he was 14 years younger than my mom and only 10 years older than me, it was easy to get along with him. I saw him more as a friend than a father and my bio mom was distant so he'd be the one interacting with me. When I was 12 my bio mom and adoptive father used to check if I brushed my teeth by smelling my breath. My bio mom stopped doing it and asked my adoptive father to do it, so he was the main one that checked my breath. Once he joked about if I were to do it again that he'd kiss me. I told my adoptive father that I wasn't scared of him and he kissed me. The adult activities followed a few days after that. When I was 13, I had a boyfriend who I told that my adoptive father and I did adult things, because I wanted him to know that I knew about that world. My bf (at that time), let's call him Tod, informed me that my aunt needed to hear my stories. So I told her. I remember her face going pale for a moment and then she was back to her normal self. Since I was only at my aunt's house because me and Tod were picking out me a homecoming dress, we got in the car shortly after I told my aunt. She drove us (me and Tod) home and there was a white car there. I got taken into foster care until I was 14 (only spending the beginning of 8th grade in care). I felt so bad for talking about what happened between me and my adoptive father that I recanted what I had said and ended up being placed back in the house with my bio mother and adoptive father. The adult activities continued just a couple weeks after I got home. When I was 16, I ran away with a new bf. That bf got scary aggressive so I messaged my bio mom and told her I needed to come home. She told me she wasn't going to be there if I came back. I didn't believe her because she's lied to me multiple times before. I broke up with him. My adoptive father came to get me and got me back to the house. My bio mom ended up not being there. So for the next couple years, I still went to school, adult activities still continued, alcohol and drugs were introduced, physical violence started, more abusive language came out, and all of that my adoptive father made sure of. I found out I was 3 months pregnant when I was 18. I got kicked out. Keep in mind it was only me and my adoptive father in the house. I ended up getting myself an apartment and was able to make a little money by selling jewelry and crafts I made. All that time, I didn't understand that what he did to me was wrong. So when he showed up to my apartment with flowers and a card for mother's day(even though the baby wasn't born yet), I let him inside. My adoptive father apologized. The cycle started all over again except for the drugs and alcohol because of the baby. I gave birth and couldn't breastfeed so he started smoking green with me. My adoptive father caused a huge fight that cost me my apartment so I moved towns away into a friend's house. We will call her Bee. Bee had dated and had a kid with my brother and we were really close. I knew Bee since early highschool and she knew a lot of what I went through. I made friends there and Bee had my kicked out of their house so me and my first born moved into another friends house. I got beat there so I call my uncle to help me find a place. Unfortunately my uncle didn't know what my adoptive father had done so they showed up to pick me up together. We (me, son, and adoptive father) moved into adoptive grandma's house. The cycle started again. This time he was the only one who was allowed to drink and it was behind doors because Grandma was against it. I didn't even know until after. It was in that house, he disclosed to me that he used to peek through the slats of the wall of the bathroom while I showered when I was 11, and that he was the one to leave the vibrator on the counter for me to find. Adoptive grandma bought me and my adoptive father a house that needed some work on. Adoptive father attacked adoptive grandma so we got evicted and moved into that house alone. The house didn't have electricity or running water, but we were able to stay clean and comfortable because we knew how to survive in that environment, but even I can admit that's no way to live. Drugs and alcohol were common. Adoptive father also gave me(I don't think I have to say in what way) to several of his friends. One night, a friend of Bee's came over and hung out with us after my son fell asleep. The friend had brought alcohol over and we all had a few drinks. Adoptive father because angered and the friend left. My son woke up because of the yelling so I picked him up to comfort him. I should have left him there because what happened next I still hold a lot of hate towards myself for even though my son is perfectly fine now. Adoptive father became more and more upset by the minute so I moved so it'd put space between us. I moved to where there was a table between me and adoptive father. I'm still holding my son at that time. Adoptive father comes rushing towards the table and throws it out of the way. He swung at me and I turned my body thinking that I had to block the blow for hitting my son. I didn't turn quick enough and my son (only 1yrs old) had a red mark on his chest. Adoptive father paused for a moment in shock that he hit the baby and gave me enough time to put the baby down and grab my phone. I started to call my closest friend at that time (who was aware of my life story and was on call whenever I needed a safe place) but adoptive father grabbed my phone, hung up, and held me down until I told him I wouldn't leave the house. I waited until he was asleep and call my friend again. Minutes later me and my baby were in a car heading to safety. The last time I spoke directly to my adoptive father was when I was 21, and that was because he called me and asked if I pressed charges against him for hitting the baby. I told him, no I didn't but his bio dad (who he hated) was the one to talk to the cops and gave them pictures of my bruises. He spent 2 years in prison for assault and that was his third strike at that time. The states attorney found out that I had a child with my adoptive father and called me on the number I gave the cops. 4 years ago they opened a case of incest against him and have filed charges. The trials and sentencing dates have been postponed multiple times and the next courtdate is in July of this year. The last one was supposed to be in April, however the defense attorney was sick. 2 years ago, while I was in a lot of counseling appointments, I finally understood what grooming was and that my childhood and teenage years weren't supposed to happen. At least in a good family, the situations I was put in wouldn't have happened. I found out that my adoptive father married Bee (the friend who had a kid with my brother) and that they had 3 kids together. My brother found out that that couple had beaten my niece and now has full custody of my niece.
I currently live in a home with my kids and bf. I have a job. I have kept up with every court date. I have shown up for every courtdate. Even driving hours to and from the court house because I lived 2 years in a different state. I have done everything in my power to make sure my kids are safe and away from the situation. However I feel like my oldest will need to know who his bio father is eventually. He's only 8yrs old rn. He does resemble his bio father in some ways that are only shown when he's mad or trying to hide something and it scares me every time. I love my kid and I feel horrible everytime my mind sees my adoptive father in my son. My son knows that his biological father is responsible for a scar across his middle finger because his bio father turned on a industrial fan while my son's hand was on it, but that's all he knows about his biological father. How do I go about helping him not turn into the type of person his biological father is? How would I address it later when he has more questions?

Some say that the night is the calmest time of the day, others never find serenity in the silence of the night.
I remember those nights when I woke up after short slumbers. I absent-mindedly made my way to the sink, purposefully keeping my head down as I washed my face.
Then came that one night, when I kept my eyes shut longer than usual after I had closed the faucet. I remember how I gathered all the courage I had, and I lifted my head slowly. I opened my eyes to see the mirror in front of me, and there I was looking at myself. A twenty-five-year-old man with more than twenty-five grey hairs on his head. That sight turned my apathy into rage. Without thinking, I raised my hand and I started to pluck every grey hair. Every time I plucked a hair I cursed a moment of my life. Hair after hair, I lost count. After I had plucked the last one that I could find I took deep breaths, looking back at myself. My hair was completely dark, like how a young man should have.
In awe of what I had just done, I stared at myself. I brushed back my hair with my hand, and as I did, I saw one last grey hair that hid underneath. I was determined to do to it the same thing that I did, but when I saw it by itself, I felt pity for it; for myself. It seemed as if it were begging for mercy, screaming "what have I done?" I slowly let it go and looked back into my eyes. I took some other deep breaths, and I told myself: "From this moment until the time those hairs grow back, I'll do what I can. To learn how to live, to escape this burden that I hold in my chest." I went back to my room, changed my clothes, and wore my jacket and headed to the house door. I put my hand on the metal handle, I remember how cold it was that winter. I opened the door.
I remember when I took the first step of my journey late at night. The smell of rain fresh in the air. The still water on the roads reflected the yellow lamps, creating a frigid world sparkling with dazzling lights. I slipped my hands into my pockets, and wandered aimlessly through the streets. No sounds were heard that hour, everyone was dreaming in their sleep. I walked between cars and through alleyways, reaching places that I never knew existed. I felt alone at that time, but that solitude was comforting. When I walk alone, no one knows where I go. My feet took the lead, head lost in thoughts.
I found myself on top of a hill at the edge of town. From that hight, I could see where the street lamps stop, drawing a line that separate the light from the dark beyond. Just before the last few lamps, I saw an old building that was abandoned before I was born. From the hill looking down, I could see that it had a large yard surrounded by a wall and a single gate. Everything about that building seemed dead, it was in ruins. I never knew what it was used for. Heard that it was an old storage but I don't know for what. That night, I didn't have the clarity of the mind to consider my decisions. I began walking towards it, wanting to see it up close.
I reached the gate. Its old rusted lock held the door shut with chains, but to my surprise, one of the hinges was completely dislodged giving me an easy access. When I entered I looked around the yard, There were many things scattered on the ground. Old tables, broken doors, and other things that I couldn't figure out how they ended up there. Every step I made was followed by a creaking of wood or the shattering of glass. I remember the way the building towered over me from that angle. The dark, open windows looked like the empty eye sockets of a skull staring back at me. The sound of the wind howling almost like it was daring me to enter. The stillness of that moment stunned me for a minute, and when I turned my back to leave, I heard a sound of something small calling from behind a corner of the building. I slowly moved towards it.
There, I saw a cat that had fear on its face. Next to it was a wooden barrel. When I approached the cat, it hissed at me. I was confused by that, why did it hiss at me instead of escaping? Then I heard a meowing of a kitten echoing inside the barrel. I knew immediately what this cat was protecting, she was the mother of that kitten. I examined the barrel from afar, I noticed that it was upside down. The upper side had a small hole on it, I assumed that was where the kitten fill from. I was certain that the underside didn't have a lid, so all I had to do was to carry the barrel slightly for the kitten to escape. However, every step I took forward, the mother hissed harder and backed up little by little. She couldn't understand that I wanted to help. I was concerned that she would either scratch me to keep me away, or even worse escape and leave her kitten behind.
I looked around me, I saw among the debris a long, wooden cane. I took it to reach the barrel without getting any closer. I walked around to the other side of the barrel where the mother cat couldn't see me. I slowly extended my arm holding the cane, grabbing the barrel by inserting the handle into the hole. I used the cane as a leverage, raising the side closest to the mother. The moment the gap became large enough for them to see each other, I heard the kitten's meows change from an echoing sadness to a bright call of longing. The mother without hesitation grabbed the kitten and ran away as fast as she could. Never looking back. I stood there asking myself: "If I weren't here this night, I wonder, would that kitten have died in that barrel?" I looked up at the face of the building again. Perhaps my feelings that night were only for me to save the kitten. I walked towards the gate again, leaving the building behind.
I walked the streets looking down. Without noticing, I reached a park that had no fence. It was full of children's games and flowers. It seemed like a memento of my past. The swings dangling without anyone to push. Standing next to the slide, I could see that I was taller than it was. It all seemed lost and forgotten, but what was funny to me was how the roses had the same colour of the pale sand under the yellow light. I walked and walked at that park, felt fatigued at the time. I saw a bench left alone in the middle of the grass. I sat there, reflecting on my life. And after some time, I buried my face in my hands.
I heard the sound of steps crushing the grass. They were getting closer until they stopped. I didn't even have the will to look up. I heard a raspy voice: "What's wrong?" I weakly looked back. Saw the face of a concerned old man. Many wrinkles on his face, hair completely white. When I saw him I tightly crossed my arms without saying a word, facing down and away from him. I could feel him staring at me, then without a word, he sat down next to me. The lamps turned off in unison as the light of dawn began to colour the sky. The hum of the breeze was contrasting the bitter silence between us. I didn't know that man and I don't think he knew me, but the circumstances of that encounter make two strangers seem like lifelong companions.
After a while, I heard his voice again: "You know, I remember when I was your age, I had done many foolish things that I am ashamed to admit. I had thrown away the future that I could have had. I regret everything that I did. But I am alive, and you still have a life In front of you. Don't waste it. You are still young". With those words he stood up and left. I saw his silhouette getting smaller and smaller until I couldn't see him anymore. I might have imagined it but the air felt easier to breathe then. The melody of the songbirds were in harmony with the beats of my heart. Amazing is the mind; it shifts from emotion to emotion on a whim, just like how the black night is replaced by the first rays of the sun.
It is that night that I so vividly remember. Now, many years have passed, I sit in my bedroom every morning combing my hair. The signs of age evident on me, my hair is completely grey. I remember that bittersweet night while holding back my tears from spilling, grateful for a moment that passed. I stand up to begin my day. Just as I am about to put my comb back in its drawer, I notice a single hair that has been caught between its teeth. I take that hair and look at it with a smile. The upper half is dark and the lower half is grey.

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You make pretty regrettable mistakes when you're desperate. Unfortunately, desperation would go on to cost me much more than I ever thought possible.
When I was 19 years old my financial situation wasn't great. In what was left of a crumbling home would be my recovering addict twin sister, and myself. The unfortunate state of our home was all from the even more unfortunate passing of our parents just four years prior. The two hadn't died tragically by any means, thankfully. No.. our parents died of old age, a consequence of having us kids later in life, while not being able to take on the financial burden that would be.. us.
My sister was making the early steps into the college lifestyle, doing her best to stay afloat with my support in funding. Money was tight for the two of us, but as she became more well off on her own, the more content she was with severing the last remaining tie to her childhood.. me.
I didn't hate Xel for her decision, if anything I understood her distancing from this life.. even if it saddened me. So then it was just me! Left to a house with a hole in the ceiling. Believe it or not, life wasn't all to bad even with how considerably down in the dumps it otherwise seemed to be.
However, content as I might have been, it's human nature to want more than you have. Can't say I was to greedy to look for some comfortability in my own home..
And so there it was! The glistening letters of ink outlining my salvation. An advertisement I'd found plastered onto the wall of the small booth I sat at while I waited for the bus to carry me off to work. "$5,000 to those compatible for a recent scientific breakthrough." Under any 'normal' circumstances I would consider this a scam. Hell, I was skeptical as I scanned the letters. Had I been told of this opportunity through spam call or text I would've glossed right over it just as anyone else would have.. but I was desperate.
I think it was the fact that someone, some real person had to have put this paper up on this wall gave me some glimmer of hope for a quick cash grab. Listed bellow the promise of money was details for a number to call regarding interest in the proposition.
I took the bait.. I saw the line, and like some idiot I clamped my teeth down just for that hook to sweep me away.
The corporation I'd come to know as, "The Arsaction," would see me just a week later. There was a brief consultation. They took my weight, age, all things I would've expected. It wasn't until they pulled records regarding my familial situation that I began to find this whole ordeal.. suspicious.
To 'begin' to find things suspicious only at this point is foolish, something I full understand, but I feel the need to reinforce the fact that I, Lex McKarthy, was desperate.
Everything by this point seemed pretty legit. The blood tests, the doctors office, the tests were.. reasonable. What was I to suspect? Everything was so vague, and truth be told I honestly didn't even expect anything to come of this visit. All the doctors, all the consultants seemed so disinterested in my features.. but when they realized I had no one, everything seemed to change.
Suddenly ears perked, suddenly doors closed, suddenly I was.. exactly what they were looking for. Every feature of myself was so painfully average. I was anyman, I was.. nothing. Despite their best efforts to be discreate, I knew it was only the fact that nobody would come looking for me that peaked their interests.
My stomach dropped when I was faced with a pen in my hand, trembling over that NDA. Every fiber of me cursed myself for never considering putting just a minute of research into 'The Arsaction,' however a video briefing would ease my nerves. Nobody knew who The Arsaction was. There was no public record of their existence, and that NDA would make sure that they continued to never exist.
I was stupid, I was irrational, I was in over my head! But I was desperate.. and I had nothing else.
"I have nothing else.. I have nothing else!"
It was a mantra I chanted as I was injected with that substance. The substance that turned my blood orange, made my skin freakishly thin.
And then I went home.
That was it. I was given my sum of money, and I was sent home. They told me I was, "good to go," and no number of questions would get a one of them to speak. I was only met with who I'd assume to be security guiding me out of the building.
Not a word more of what I'd just been injected with, only given instructions to not dwell on mirrors for too long. That was it, just some ominous instructions. So I left, as befuddled as I arrived. Relief washed over me as I made my way home. The anxiety I'd received from such an ominous buildup was all waved by the fact that I was somehow just.. good to go?
Relief quickly turned to panic as the inherent nature of it all being too good to be true set in. I expected to die, I expected some visit from government agents, I expected anything and everything, but as months turned to years.. Nothing ever came of it. No mirror ever caused me any harm, which was its own anxiety I'd have to overcome simply because of the absurd nature or such a request.
I hoped it was.. some prank. Everything was well... for a time. Of course to disturb my peace, my sister called.
I just.. watched the phone ring. My sister, someone who I hadn't spoken to in upwards of 8 years was suddenly ringing me up. When I finally had answered, her question left me speechless.
"Hey Lex. would you happen to remember Mom's recipe for that egg toast? I think I left the cookbook at your place."
I felt my ears ring. The question was so.. casual. She entirely skipped the part where we discussed how she's been, how I'm doing. She spoke to me like we'd hung out only days ago.
At the time I'd thought I was just being dramatic, but looking back on it I can only justify my own hesitation to respond.
"W-..what?"
I stammered like a fool, but I was firm in my disbelief.
"Yeah, it should be in the book on the counter?"
I looked over my shoulder to my kitchen counter, past the toaster I never bought, and over to the book she spoke of. My jaw hung heavy, the whole interaction feeling like a dream.
With one hand I held the phone, and with the other I began to skim the pages of the book letting my eyes linger on mom's cinnamon roll recipe for a bit longer than intended.
"Lex.. are you ok?"
My sister inquired on the other end. I suddenly felt sick.. falling the the ground and laying on my back. This wasn't happening.
"Lex? Are you alright!?"
My sister repeated back more urgently, followed by her assurance that she would be over soon to check on me. But.. no company ever arrived. After hours the line just dropped, and I fell asleep there on that cold, wooden floor, paralyzed with a feeling I couldn't wrap my head around.
When I finally gathered the composure to stand I would try to call Xel back. A frown dawned my face when she never answered. Somehow this didn’t surprise me, and I was lead to believe that she had never called me in the first place. The thing is, the book was still on my counter, and her call was still logged on my phone.
Still, I hadn’t known Xel to do something like this. It wasn’t in her nature to do something so cruel, to act like all this time hadn’t passed.
But it has. Years have gone by and nothing but radio silence from her, a silence I feared would go on. The following days I would continue to attempt to call her, but to no avail.
I had to come to terms with the fact that, as quickly as she had returned too my life, Xel was once again gone. I’m ashamed to admit that, just as I’d forgotten that experience with The Arsaction several years ago, I’d forgotten about my own sister.
Even if she wouldn’t call back, I was inspired to begin looking through old family pictures, and this is where the oddities would start to fester.
I found a picture of Xel and I just.. eating breakfast. Usually my mom was off to work by then, but it was a special occasion. It was a day I remember so vividly. I was 14 years old at this time, and had awoke to the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls filling the air. After all, it was Xel’s and I’s birthday. All was right with the world, all as I climbed from the messy sheets in my dark room. It was abundantly clear that the bulb of the light beside my bed had burnt out over the course of the night, and the closed blinds didn't aid my vision as I stumbled around my room in search of my door.
An oddity presented itself in the fashion of aimless wondering. Where was the nob? One I'd become so accustomed to.. not needing to open? I'd never closed my door. Not the previous night, not ever. Not to the behest of my mother who'd always taken annoyance to closed doors, some trait of my grandmother's to which my mom had unfortunately inherited.
Breakfast took the form of two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, and slightly burnt French-Toast. My previous assumption of cinnamon rolls unfortunately missed the mark, however I wouldn't object to this. I wish I could convince myself that I was wrong. Something so mundane, something so insignificant to the events in this story, however the first notable instance of a curse that I couldn't pinpoint
My mother had already seen herself off to work by this point, and so I was faced with the responsibilities of seeing myself out to the bus. Some routine I'd become far too used to; The minutes passed, leaving me with nothing to do but wait by the door for a buss that would never arrive.
If the door being shut and the cinnamon rolls being a different meal entirely had left me with a minor confusion, then suddenly being seated in the passenger seat of my mother's car listening to the nonchalant complaints from my twin sister about the nuances freshmen year math shot me into a disarray I couldn't possibly quantify.
I think one of the scariest things for me is the fact that I thought nothing of it. I hadn't freaked out. No scene was made to express what should have been one of the more disturbing instances of my childhood.
I could chalk up the mistaking breakfast for something else as me just misremembering events.. But something unmistakable is the fact that somehow my mom both never drove me to school, yet the fact that she.. always had.
If you're confused, I understand. I am too, because the contradicting nature of my memory is something that haunts me to no end.
Things were easier as a child. That's often the case, but ever sense I stopped aging, I've begun to notice the oddities presented by life that are.. inexplainable. I'm not even sure where to start with researching my predicament.
The Mandela Effect is something that I feel needs no introduction. To those who don't know, the Mandela Effect, in brief, is a phenomenon that incurs when you "misremember" something. Think of a card, now imagine you saw that card as a child and it had a single heart drawn on it's center. Now, years later you are discussing this card with someone else just for them to tell you that the heart you swear, the heart you KNOW you saw.. was a diamond. You tell them they are wrong, you shake your head, chuckle nervously.. But then they present you with the card.
Your stomach drops. This can't be the card, there is no way! Only it is the card, and when you come to the realization that it is in fact the card you'd seen as a child, you are filled with a mix of confusion, fascination, and quite possibly denial.
Most often, the Mandela Effect is associated with silly things like books titles, and board game mascots, but my experience is far beyond such things. It's the only phenomenon I've found that seems even within the realm of explaining my predicament. Problem is, the more I think, the more is wrong.
All of me wishes it all ended with that one childhood experience! But it didn't. In fact, the more I consider my childhood, the more contradictions I notice. Part of me believes I could handle this if it was limited to my childhood, but it's not. This.. experience... It effects my every day!
I'm not losing my mind, I'm just picking up crumbs that I never dropped. Not.. losing my mind, just finding more "mind" than the inventory should account for.
As I stop and think now, I’m understanding that my memories are.. overlapping. Other mirrored versions of myself and my memories will occasionally cross paths, and when they do it causes me to misremember. Not because I don’t remember, but because my memories conflict with one another.
I wish I could see someone about this, but I’m worried the consequences of me seeking someone out.. still, we make dumb mistakes when we are desperate, and I’m starting to feel desperate again.

You make pretty regrettable mistakes when you're desperate. Unfortunately, desperation would go on to cost me much more than I ever thought possible.
When I was 19 years old my financial situation wasn't great. In what was left of a crumbling home would be my recovering addict twin sister, and myself. The unfortunate state of our home was all from the even more unfortunate passing of our parents just four years prior. The two hadn't died tragically by any means, thankfully. No.. our parents died of old age, a consequence of having us kids later in life, while not being able to take on the financial burden that would be.. us.
My sister was making the early steps into the college lifestyle, doing her best to stay afloat with my support in funding. Money was tight for the two of us, but as she became more well off on her own, the more content she was with severing the last remaining tie to her childhood.. me.
I didn't hate Xel for her decision, if anything I understood her distancing from this life.. even if it saddened me. So then it was just me! Left to a house with a hole in the ceiling. Believe it or not, life wasn't all to bad even with how considerably down in the dumps it otherwise seemed to be.
However, content as I might have been, it's human nature to want more than you have. Can't say I was to greedy to look for some comfortability in my own home..
And so there it was! The glistening letters of ink outlining my salvation. An advertisement I'd found plastered onto the wall of the small booth I sat at while I waited for the bus to carry me off to work. "$5,000 to those compatible for a recent scientific breakthrough." Under any 'normal' circumstances I would consider this a scam. Hell, I was skeptical as I scanned the letters. Had I been told of this opportunity through spam call or text I would've glossed right over it just as anyone else would have.. but I was desperate.
I think it was the fact that someone, some real person had to have put this paper up on this wall gave me some glimmer of hope for a quick cash grab. Listed bellow the promise of money was details for a number to call regarding interest in the proposition.
I took the bait.. I saw the line, and like some idiot I clamped my teeth down just for that hook to sweep me away.
The corporation I'd come to know as, "The Arsaction," would see me just a week later. There was a brief consultation. They took my weight, age, all things I would've expected. It wasn't until they pulled records regarding my familial situation that I began to find this whole ordeal.. suspicious.
To 'begin' to find things suspicious only at this point is foolish, something I full understand, but I feel the need to reinforce the fact that I, Lex McKarthy, was desperate.
Everything by this point seemed pretty legit. The blood tests, the doctors office, the tests were.. reasonable. What was I to suspect? Everything was so vague, and truth be told I honestly didn't even expect anything to come of this visit. All the doctors, all the consultants seemed so disinterested in my features.. but when they realized I had no one, everything seemed to change.
Suddenly ears perked, suddenly doors closed, suddenly I was.. exactly what they were looking for. Every feature of myself was so painfully average. I was anyman, I was.. nothing. Despite their best efforts to be discreate, I knew it was only the fact that nobody would come looking for me that peaked their interests.
My stomach dropped when I was faced with a pen in my hand, trembling over that NDA. Every fiber of me cursed myself for never considering putting just a minute of research into 'The Arsaction,' however a video briefing would ease my nerves. Nobody knew who The Arsaction was. There was no public record of their existence, and that NDA would make sure that they continued to never exist.
I was stupid, I was irrational, I was in over my head! But I was desperate.. and I had nothing else.
"I have nothing else.. I have nothing else!"
It was a mantra I chanted as I was injected with that substance. The substance that turned my blood orange, made my skin freakishly thin.
And then I went home.
That was it. I was given my sum of money, and I was sent home. They told me I was, "good to go," and no number of questions would get a one of them to speak. I was only met with who I'd assume to be security guiding me out of the building.
Not a word more of what I'd just been injected with, only given instructions to not dwell on mirrors for too long. That was it, just some ominous instructions. So I left, as befuddled as I arrived. Relief washed over me as I made my way home. The anxiety I'd received from such an ominous buildup was all waved by the fact that I was somehow just.. good to go?
Relief quickly turned to panic as the inherent nature of it all being too good to be true set in. I expected to die, I expected some visit from government agents, I expected anything and everything, but as months turned to years.. Nothing ever came of it. No mirror ever caused me any harm, which was its own anxiety I'd have to overcome simply because of the absurd nature or such a request.
I hoped it was.. some prank. Everything was well... for a time. Of course to disturb my peace, my sister called.
I just.. watched the phone ring. My sister, someone who I hadn't spoken to in upwards of 8 years was suddenly ringing me up. When I finally had answered, her question left me speechless.
"Hey Lex. would you happen to remember Mom's recipe for that egg toast? I think I left the cookbook at your place."
I felt my ears ring. The question was so.. casual. She entirely skipped the part where we discussed how she's been, how I'm doing. She spoke to me like we'd hung out only days ago.
At the time I'd thought I was just being dramatic, but looking back on it I can only justify my own hesitation to respond.
"W-..what?"
I stammered like a fool, but I was firm in my disbelief.
"Yeah, it should be in the book on the counter?"
I looked over my shoulder to my kitchen counter, past the toaster I never bought, and over to the book she spoke of. My jaw hung heavy, the whole interaction feeling like a dream.
With one hand I held the phone, and with the other I began to skim the pages of the book letting my eyes linger on mom's cinnamon roll recipe for a bit longer than intended.
"Lex.. are you ok?"
My sister inquired on the other end. I suddenly felt sick.. falling the the ground and laying on my back. This wasn't happening.
"Lex? Are you alright!?"
My sister repeated back more urgently, followed by her assurance that she would be over soon to check on me. But.. no company ever arrived. After hours the line just dropped, and I fell asleep there on that cold, wooden floor, paralyzed with a feeling I couldn't wrap my head around.
When I finally gathered the composure to stand I would try to call Xel back. A frown dawned my face when she never answered. Somehow this didn’t surprise me, and I was lead to believe that she had never called me in the first place. The thing is, the book was still on my counter, and her call was still logged on my phone.
Still, I hadn’t known Xel to do something like this. It wasn’t in her nature to do something so cruel, to act like all this time hadn’t passed.
But it has. Years have gone by and nothing but radio silence from her, a silence I feared would go on. The following days I would continue to attempt to call her, but to no avail.
I had to come to terms with the fact that, as quickly as she had returned too my life, Xel was once again gone. I’m ashamed to admit that, just as I’d forgotten that experience with The Arsaction several years ago, I’d forgotten about my own sister.
Even if she wouldn’t call back, I was inspired to begin looking through old family pictures, and this is where the oddities would start to fester.
I found a picture of Xel and I just.. eating breakfast. Usually my mom was off to work by then, but it was a special occasion. It was a day I remember so vividly. I was 14 years old at this time, and had awoke to the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls filling the air. After all, it was Xel’s and I’s birthday. All was right with the world, all as I climbed from the messy sheets in my dark room. It was abundantly clear that the bulb of the light beside my bed had burnt out over the course of the night, and the closed blinds didn't aid my vision as I stumbled around my room in search of my door.
An oddity presented itself in the fashion of aimless wondering. Where was the nob? One I'd become so accustomed to.. not needing to open? I'd never closed my door. Not the previous night, not ever. Not to the behest of my mother who'd always taken annoyance to closed doors, some trait of my grandmother's to which my mom had unfortunately inherited.
Breakfast took the form of two strips of bacon, scrambled eggs, and slightly burnt French-Toast. My previous assumption of cinnamon rolls unfortunately missed the mark, however I wouldn't object to this. I wish I could convince myself that I was wrong. Something so mundane, something so insignificant to the events in this story, however the first notable instance of a curse that I couldn't pinpoint
My mother had already seen herself off to work by this point, and so I was faced with the responsibilities of seeing myself out to the bus. Some routine I'd become far too used to; The minutes passed, leaving me with nothing to do but wait by the door for a buss that would never arrive.
If the door being shut and the cinnamon rolls being a different meal entirely had left me with a minor confusion, then suddenly being seated in the passenger seat of my mother's car listening to the nonchalant complaints from my twin sister about the nuances freshmen year math shot me into a disarray I couldn't possibly quantify.
I think one of the scariest things for me is the fact that I thought nothing of it. I hadn't freaked out. No scene was made to express what should have been one of the more disturbing instances of my childhood.
I could chalk up the mistaking breakfast for something else as me just misremembering events.. But something unmistakable is the fact that somehow my mom both never drove me to school, yet the fact that she.. always had.
If you're confused, I understand. I am too, because the contradicting nature of my memory is something that haunts me to no end.
Things were easier as a child. That's often the case, but ever sense I stopped aging, I've begun to notice the oddities presented by life that are.. inexplainable. I'm not even sure where to start with researching my predicament.
The Mandela Effect is something that I feel needs no introduction. To those who don't know, the Mandela Effect, in brief, is a phenomenon that incurs when you "misremember" something. Think of a card, now imagine you saw that card as a child and it had a single heart drawn on it's center. Now, years later you are discussing this card with someone else just for them to tell you that the heart you swear, the heart you KNOW you saw.. was a diamond. You tell them they are wrong, you shake your head, chuckle nervously.. But then they present you with the card.
Your stomach drops. This can't be the card, there is no way! Only it is the card, and when you come to the realization that it is in fact the card you'd seen as a child, you are filled with a mix of confusion, fascination, and quite possibly denial.
Most often, the Mandela Effect is associated with silly things like books titles, and board game mascots, but my experience is far beyond such things. It's the only phenomenon I've found that seems even within the realm of explaining my predicament. Problem is, the more I think, the more is wrong.
All of me wishes it all ended with that one childhood experience! But it didn't. In fact, the more I consider my childhood, the more contradictions I notice. Part of me believes I could handle this if it was limited to my childhood, but it's not. This.. experience... It effects my every day!
I'm not losing my mind, I'm just picking up crumbs that I never dropped. Not.. losing my mind, just finding more "mind" than the inventory should account for.
As I stop and think now, I’m understanding that my memories are.. overlapping. Other mirrored versions of myself and my memories will occasionally cross paths, and when they do it causes me to misremember. Not because I don’t remember, but because my memories conflict with one another.
I wish I could see someone about this, but I’m worried the consequences of me seeking someone out.. still, we make dumb mistakes when we are desperate, and I’m starting to feel desperate again.

Hey everyone! I back again with some more funny shenanigans with our good pals Lerson and Silversmith. Thank you all for the great feedback for the last chapter, it really made my day. I'm excited to hear what you all think about this next one. Hope you all enjoy!
And again a special thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the NoP universe! __________
[First] [Next] __________
Memory Transcription Subject: Lerson, Undercover Farsul Date [standardized human time]: October 24, 2136
How did I get here? Just yesterday I was running for my life through the forest on this backwater planet and now I am sitting in the back of a vehicle with a predator, who thinks that I am some kind of hunting beast. Well… what do I do now?
The first part of my plan went off without a hitch. The simple minded predators had not realized I was not one of their slave beasts, so they released me from their holding pens. However, I am now trapped in a car right alongside my new predatory master.
Maybe I could try to take it down. It doesn’t seem particularly dexterous at least compared to the other predators I have seen. It is not looking at me now, so I would have the upper hand, but it is nearly twice my size. I will probably have to hold out for a little bit longer before I make my move.
I am suddenly pulled from my thoughts when the predator in the front seat begins to growl, “Car, can you bring me to the pet store, please?”
‘Pet Store,’ what is that? My translator says that it is a place for the sale of animals. Is it going to sell me already? Maybe I am just being sent to my new prison. My heart races as I watch the vehicle begin to slow down and come to a stop in front of the building. The elderly predator gets out of the vehicle and walks around to the door next to me. Oh no! This isn’t part of the plan. I thought I was finally out of that place, but now I am just about to get locked up again. The door opens.
“Okay bud, we’re gonna get you some things,” it said. Huh. I am not getting sold? The predator grabbed the end of the rope around my neck and beckoned me out of the vehicle. I chose to oblige and we slowly made our way towards the nearby building.
It was a small structure that looked like it was in disrepair. It makes sense that the predators would not upkeep their buildings all they care about is killing and eating. I was surprised to find that they even have buildings to begin with.
The old one pushed the door open, which produced a soft jingle as we walked in. First thing I noticed was the intense smell. It was almost overwhelming with how many different scents there were. Looking around the aisles of the shop were very narrow and the shelves were packed with different items. “Um, so the lady at the shelter suggested that I get food, bowls, a bed, and… I don’t really remember what else. That’s probably fine to begin with, we can always come back later.”
We walked down one of the narrow aisles, which had dozens of bags of ‘kibble.’ My translator says it is “ground meal shaped into pellets, especially for pet food.” That does not sound very appetizing. The predator stops and starts looking through the different options. I also start to look around. The bag nearest to me has an ingredients list. Luckily I opted for the built in visual translator. Scanning the ingredients it contains mostly different grains and other fillers, which is surprising from predator food, but it also lists ‘animal byproducts’ which sounds horrifying. I guess whatever the Terrans do not end up eating gets tossed to the lesser predators.
“Let’s get this one. It says it’s for ‘senior’ dogs. Ha! That’s something we’ve go in common”
Really?! Do I look that old to everyone? By the Tenants, maybe I need to dye my fur after I get out of this mess. We continued going around the store picking up items until we got to the counter near the front.
Speaking to the predator behind the counter my ‘master’ says, “Good afternoon Bobby. How’s everything going?”
The young predator behind the counter responds, “Not too great, Mr. Silversmith.”
“Oh. I spose that was a bad question to ask, sorry.”
“It's okay sir, there is just a lot going on. I’m glad that my parents and I are all fine, being out here in the country, but my brother works in the city and we still don’t know if he’s alright.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope for the best.”
“Thank you. Now what can I do for you?”
“Oh I’m just buying some supplies for old Buddy over here,” he gestures down to me.
The clerk looks over the counter towards me, “Uh… Mr. Silversmith…” The old predator cuts him off, “I know he aint the best lookin’, but can’t say much about myself either, so I don’t need to hear it.”
“Sure… Well… let me ring that all up for you then.”
Spekh! That one has to know, right? Perhaps these predators are not as dense as I thought and the one I got is just really stupid. Well at least that helps my plan, but I will still have to be careful around other Terrans.
The old one finishes paying and we head back down to the vehicle and it drives off. After about [~34 minutes] we reach what I think is the elderly predator's den.
It is at the end of a very long dirt roadway, tucked among the trees, that I see the structure. Just like the pet shop it is a small building made out of simple materials like wood and stone. I suppose the predators really are as primitive as I thought.
The vehicle comes to a halt next to the building and the old one steps out. After he opens my door, I step out of the vehicle as well. I follow him to the entrance of the den, which is a simple wooden door painted bright red. And if I remember correctly that is the color of blood on this planet. So savage!
Upon entering, the interior looks very similar to the outside with wood adorning the walls and floors. Though I was surprised how similar the layout was to the living quarters back at the guild. The room at the entrance looked to be some kind of lounging room with a small couch and rug in the center of the room facing a screen mounted on the opposite wall. To the left of the door was what I could only assume was a kitchen with storage cabinets covering the walls.
The elderly predator returned to the car to retrieve the items it purchased at the ‘pet shop,’ which makes this the best time to do some sleuthing. I made my way past the lounge room into the depths of the den. Past the entrance room was a hallway leading further back. It was adorned with photographs filled with predatory snarls. I did my best to ignore them and worked my way further down the hall.
Up ahead there was a door and upon opening it I found a room which, by the smell of it, must be a lavatory. That really reminded me that I had to go to the bathroom. My cell did not even have a waste pit. I made my way quickly into the room and relieved myself with haste. Once I finished I thought about flushing the ‘evidence,’ but that’s when I heard the front door open again, so I was forced to hurry out of the room.
“Hey Bud! Where did you go?” it growled from the other room. I made my way back to the entrance as quickly as I could manage on all fours. “There you are. So do you like the place?” the predator asked. I did not respond and just looked towards it. “Ha ha, great!” it growled. I did not say anything?
“So I got your food and water bowls over here. Let me go fill them up. You’ve gotta be hungry.”
It walked over to the kitchen with the bowls in hand and filled one with water from the sink. The other bowl, the predator filled with the ‘kibble’ from earlier. Then it placed them both on the floor. It looks like the food situation might not be any better than my previous arrangement at the holding pen.
“Well, I spose I should eat dinner as well.”
It opened the large metal cabinet and began looking through it. I snuck a little closer to get a better look. When I approached I could feel the chill coming off of it, so I could assume that it was some kind of refrigerators unit. Must not be that primitive I suppose. After a bit of scrounging around the refrigerator, the elderly one pulled out a clear plastic container. It was green on the inside. Is it really going to eat rotten flesh!? I guess that is expected of a predator.
As it opened the container I braced my nose for the putrid smell of rotten flesh, but it never came. I watched as the predator poured out leafy greens into a bowl. Huh, a predator is eating plants?
Wait, I do remember that during the Terran’s deceptive talk at Aafa, they had said they were [all-eaters]. I guess that must be true. Watching it eat the greens is making me even hungrier than I was before.
I watched as the elderly predator finished its salad. It brought the bowl and utensils to the sink to begin washing them. I waited in the corner of the kitchen for him to finish and leave. My stomach was killing me and I could only think of the amazing taste of a crisp salad. Finally the predator finished his task and turned away from the sink. It looked towards me and then at the bowls on the floor. “Aren’t you hungry boy? You haven’t touched your food at all… I hope you’re alright. Maybe I need to take you to the vet tomorrow?”
Vet? My translator says that that means ‘animal doctor.’ Even though the average human is pretty oblivious, a doctor will be sure to realize that I’m not really a ‘dog.’ I can not let this Terran take me there. I know what I have to do, but I do not like it. I steel myself as I walk over to the bowl and stare down at its contents. Am I really going to do this? You have to! So, I lower my head and bite down on a mouthful of ‘kibble.’
It… is not that bad? I honestly expected worse.
I suppress the thoughts of the ‘animal byproducts’ in it and swallow. Immediately I wash out my mouth with the water in the second bowl. Then I turn to look at the human who is now snarling at me. I freeze. Did I do something wrong? Did it figure me out?!
“There you go. Ha ha. I was worried for a second there.”
What? Is it happy that I ate? Then why is it snarling at me? Maybe maybe that means that it is happy? These predators are so weird. At least it seems like I have avoided detection once again. Nailed it!
The old predator, having been satisfied, let out a yawn revealing all its sharp teeth… well… most of them were surprisingly quite dull. “Okay bud it's getting late, so I think it's time for me to turn in, but let me get you your bed first,” it said. Reaching into the biggest bag from the pet shop the elderly predator pulled out a round fluffy bowl. It looks similar to beds I saw when working on the Iftali and Sulean homeworld, though this one is a lot smaller. It placed the bed down in the living room next to the couch.
It paused, “Oh wait. I should probably take you outside before turning in for the night. Don’t want a mess in the morning, come on.”
I follow the predator as instructed, wondering what it wants me to do now. It leads me out a side door into a grassy area. “Okay… do your business,” it said.
What? Does it want me to do something? I just look around seeing if there's anything to give me any clues.
“I guess that didn’t work. Go potty.”
What?! Is it commanding me to defecate?! Outside! I guess he does think I am an animal. But there is no way I am doing that especially with it watching me. Why is it watching? Is it some kind of pervert? Grr, Screw the plan!
“Okay… uh… I guess come back in when you’re done,” it says as it turns to walk back to the house.
Thank the Tenants! I wait [a few minutes] and then slip back into the predator’s den. On my return it spots me, “Oh good you’re back!”
It walked over to the side door and locked it. Then the predator shuffled to wall switches and turned off most of the lights. Thankfully it left a singular lamp turned on. It is already bad enough that I am stuck in a predator's den, but being in the dark with a predator would be too much even for me.
“Okay goodnight bud, see you in the morning,” said the old one. Then right as it entered the hall it stopped and looked down at a nearby table, “Good night Ella. Good night Ben. Good night Martha.” Then it walked out of sight.
Who was he talking to? Are there other predators here? I don’t smell anyone else and I think I would have heard them earlier. Spekh! Did I get a crazy one?
Okay craziness aside, I need to eat some real food. I finally stood upright. Ah my back! It was already getting bad enough when I was back home. Hopefully I can get used to this because walking on all fours is killing me right now.
I walk over to the refrigeration unit and slowly open the doors trying to stay quiet. Looking around the inside I am surprised to find so many vegetables. However, I did spot a slab of flesh towards the back, which I did my best to ignore.
Now, I can not just eat anything, it might notice if food is missing. Scrounging around for a [minute] my eyes eventually find a plant in one of the lower drawers. It looks like a big bundle of large leaves. I take it out and pry off one of the ones on the outside. It comes off relatively easily with a crunch. Hopefully this is edible. I bring the leaf to my mouth and bite down. It makes a very satisfying crunch as a do. There really is no distinct taste, but I am so hungry that I don’t even care if it is bland.
I scarfed down the rest of the leaf quickly and then grabbed another and then another. Before I knew it, the bundle was only a third of the original size. So much for being sneaky. Finally satisfied, I returned what remained of the bundle to its proper place and closed the refrigerator doors.
After finishing my raid on the refrigerators, I thought about what the old predator had said earlier. I walked over to the table near the entrance to the hallway. There must be something interesting here. However, there was nothing but a handful of photographs. Looking at them in the dim light I was able to make out the wide snarls that adorned the faces in the photo. I guess It makes more sense now since the snarl is a ‘happy’ expression. It is still very strange to me.
The photo closest to the front had the old predator standing next to a much younger predator, which appeared to be wearing Terran military pelts. Strangely, the young one has very bright orange hair on the top of its head.
Next to that one there was a similar photo, but the old predator looked slightly younger. The other Terran in the photo looked similar to the first. They did share the same bright orange hair, but the enlarged mammaries indicated that this one was a female.
I then spotted another picture including the same female, but this time she was next to a different predator and she was holding a Terran pup, which had the same orange hair. Perhaps the female was the mother of the other one. Most of the other photos appeared to be different combinations of the same four predators: the old one, his offspring, his offspring’s mate, and then their pup.
I moved over to the other side to see if I could find anything more useful. There was a photo that stood out to me. It pictured the old one, but he looked significantly younger even more than the other photos. Standing next to him was a female, which had the same orange hair as the others. Who was this? I had not seen it in any of the other pictures.
I searched around to see if I could find any more with this female in it. Towards the back I saw two pictures next to each other. The one on the left had the female again with the old predator. Laying in a bed she was cradling a newborn pup in her arms. However, the photo on the right was the old one with the pup in its arms. The pup appeared to be a year or two older in this one, but where was the mother? Looking at the older predator I saw the look in his eyes. I know that look. Cerci…
No! They are predators! They are not like us! You know they can not think like us! It's not the same!
Grr, you are tired… just… just go rest. I walk over to the bed. I curl up and try to let sleep take me. __________
[First] [Next] __________
So much for being comedic and lighthearted. I promise that the rest of it won't be so depressing, but I wanted to add a little more substance to some of the characters. Thanks again for reading! Feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions, I really appreciate it.