Who makes tempflow mattress

DRAKES UNCLE STEVE LINKED??? (IDK WHAT THIS MEANS BUT COULD BE IMPORTANT)

2024.05.15 02:44 thehatstore42069 DRAKES UNCLE STEVE LINKED??? (IDK WHAT THIS MEANS BUT COULD BE IMPORTANT)

Search for Steve on various channels reveals that this is Stephen sher, as revealed in a nike collab back in 2023. Steve is the brother of Drake's Mom
https://www.nike.com/launch/t/nocta-golf-apparel-collection-fa21
Only one result really comes up for Stephen sher when looking in canada, linking him to two patents, as well as a company called Jupiter Industries.
The two patents are for a front facing car seat for babies/young children and a device for a crib that holds the baby in place to prevent rolling. These were filed back in 2002.
https://patents.justia.com/inventostephen-sher
Jupiter industries happens to be Canada's only manufacturer of mattresses for cribs. These are made on behalf of BeautyRest and Simmons Mattress.
Looking at the wayback machine, however, it appears that back in 2002, they were making carseats called the Krazy Kruiser, as well as mattresses. There is also a linkedin page for Stephen sher stating he is the CEO of Jupiter Industries. At some point they also had added pet products to their lineup... presumably around 2003
The two employees publically listed on linkedin for Jupiter industries both list their previous job at Amazon Playground, an indoor playground in Toronto that is now closed. It was like a stripmall play place for little kids. I only mention bc it is kind of odd to me that multiple people from there ended up in different roles here.
All information about domain owners has been redacted/removed from the public database so I could not find any info about who owns the building or anything.
Looking into the company, it is basically a warehouse hidden away. You cant get any good angles of the building from google maps, but you are able to see inside on some twitter posts, showing they have an office with customer service and the like. It seems like a legitimate business, however the IG is weird. There are very few posts and even fewer comments, and all the comments are from foreigners from overseas looking to "collab" and stating they sent a DM. The only real comment I saw however was interesting. It is a woman saying she was unable to get a hold of anyone at the company. I also have noticed none of their products have any reviews anywhere they are sold. They are listed at various Canadian websites but it doesn't look like anyone has actually purchased them. Maybe I am wrong.
HOLY SHIT!!! EXCERPT FROM OCT 13 2007 "About the Company" for Jupiter Industries:
our company Jupiter started in Toronto in 1981 when the CEO was asked by his father Reuben Sher to pioneer a new sleep product for his grandchildren. The result was the first dust mite resistant mattress ever made. Being ahead of our time has always been and still is the basic principle in our company. Innovative products with purpose is now our mandate.
A period of rapid growth followed from our first entry product as the company expanded into a full range of crib mattresses. Since that time Jupiter has become Canada’s #1 crib mattress manufacturer.
In 2000, Jupiter continued to grow by acquiring the Simmons license for baby crib mattresses. This brand is synonymous with on going quality and product development.
Because of the CEO’s passionate link to animals and his quest for making innovative products the company has recently embarked on the manufacturing of a revolutionary new sleep product for pets... the Woof-A-Pedic.
The company has complimented this new category with the addition of Petstages, an innovative new line of pet toys. Jupiter is the exclusive distributor in Canada for this brand, which has realized tremendous growth. The brand was developed by animal behaviorists and psychologists to create the first of it’s kind developmental pet toys that address specific animal behaviors.
https://web.archive.org/web/20090416184520/http://www.jupiterindustries.com/company.html
Drakes Grandpa is Reuben!!!
NOTE: The about the company section was removed in April of 2009. Drake's first mixtape was released in Feb 2009
Petstages did not seem to have any useful info other than the fact they specialized in controlling pet behavior, but an interesting note. Steve said in the Woof-a-pedic about section that he had 5 dogs, one of which is a german shepard named ruby. Since drake's dog is named diamond I wonder if that is a homage.
We have proven Drake's Uncle started all of these businesses.... related to dogs and babies...... specifically patents for the restraint of babies...... and the behavioral control of dogs.........coincidence?
Drake actually had an entire company founded so he could sleep well at night. Before this dude was even born. But why? Why would Reuben ask his son to make this company himself?

submitted by thehatstore42069 to DarkKenny [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 02:04 Terrible_Estimate606 The memory’s my wife wants to forget

It’s gunna be a long one so I suggest getting your self a drink get comfy and I’ll try to make it the easiest read I can. As the title suggests this is what happened to me, my wife and our 2 year old son. The lord as my witness everything written is 100 percent true and accurate with many witnesses.
I don’t even know where to start this so I’ll just go from where I feel is relevant, I 31 male moved to Cornwall uk in 2018 then 24 coming up to 25. I moved into a beautiful one bedroom flat with sea views with nothing but a motorbike 1 bag on my back and a starting date for work 18th February 2018.
All was fine everything was going good life was finally looking up I moved from a city to rural countryside breathtaking beaches, beautiful people and I was ready to finally start adulthood. When I moved into my flat I had nothing, absolutely nothing apart from 7 days worth of clean boxers and socks a guitar and some chef whites. The flat was unfurnished apart from a bed frame and a chest of drawers so naturally I would have to buy everything I needed while I was there, I didn’t even have a mattress for my bed. 2018 was a big year for Cornwall as we had the beast of the east, heavy snow (now I like snow and being a northern boy I was used to it but this stuff came down thick and heavy)! As I said I had a motorbike for transport and I was in work when the beast of the east hit and obviously couldn’t ride back home as the snow was about 2 ft deep by the time I left.
So I walk home and as soon as you entered my flat my bedroom was to the right of the front door a cubard directly in front of you my bathroom just to the left and my living room just down the hallway to the left also. In my hall way I had a shoe rack where I always used to put my shoes, now given I had just walked 3 miles in the snow I could swear I put my bike boots on said shoe rack when I got home. Any way I carried on with my evening as normal and played guitar drank a few beers and just generally chilled before getting my head down. I was sleeping on my couch as my mattress hadn’t arrived yet, but the next morning when I woke up my bike boots was in-front of the couch like some one had jumped on them walked up to where I was sleeping and jumped out. Not only that my heater had been pulled out of the alcove it was in and turned on. I passed this off as nothing it was probably just me and I didn’t remember.
Fast forward a few months nearly a year and I’m all settled my flat is great, my work is great life is good. I met a beautiful young lady (that’s now my wife) although we just started as friends. I’m so happy.
How ever I worked on a holiday park as a chef, one day I get a knock on the back door to the kitchen. There was a man that I had been serving all week and he said sorry to bother you but my wife would like a word with you. Now I’m thinking great what have I done now. But she was smiling and happy and said to me is your gf or wife pregnant I had neither at the time, so I responded nope why do you ask? She told me her name it was carrol (forget her second name) she was a head at a spiritual church in wales. She proceeded to tell me I had a little boys spirit following me around and she could see him. I didn’t know how to react, so I just said oh ok really! And took her details added her on Facebook etc etc, now a few months go by things in the flat was getting weird not that I recognised at the time but like things moving / going missing and I just played it off like it was me being tired from work.
Again fast forward a little bit I’m dating my now wife and mother to my children, she’s staying over but she worked evenings till early hours in the morning when i would wait to go pick her up, at this point I had sold my motorbike to buy a car (more practical and I needed one as per the condition where I worked was I had to have a car to collect stock of a morning).
One night she was in work I was sat at my table designing her tattoo for the back of her leg as I love to draw, I used to have lanterns on my table that where on like a metal frame but they could swing. That night I was drawing both lanterns where swinging in unison so I FaceTimed I will call her red (as I don’t wish to identify her by name). While on face time I showed her the lanterns and I stepped away from the table thinking my shading was moving them and the second I did I swear to the almighty lord they stoped dead! Dead centre like they hadn’t even moved. She witnessed this and was like what the ****.
But once again we put it to the back of our minds and fast forward a few days / maybe a week. I used to have a picture of red and her best friend one of them stupid long ones that you get from a photo machine at an arcade, locked behind my intercoms phone. One day we was stood in the living room and i promise no one was near it but this picture came from behind the phone and landed in the middle of the living room floor. We laughed about it at the time and was like oooooo spooky but we was stupid!
So strange things kept happening red hated being in the flat on her own and hated being in my room as I had a built in wardrobe and she would always say she felt uneasy. The strange things never stopped but we always just brushed it off. Until …….
Our son is born now there’s a 2 year gap where my little lad I’ll refer to him as A, the happings never stopped or eased but we would always just pass it off, how ever when A was about 2 he would always talk to him self in the kitchen and say brother, look daddy brother but not a second later he would scream. Any one whos a parent knows there kids sounds and this sound instantly got my back up am talking as a father hearing my son make this noise I was ready to kill, the anger and rage that I felt inside was something I can’t even put into words, my baby boy was terrified of something and fatherly instincts kicked in.
Every morning while at this flat I would wake up with little bumps or marks across my body, but I always thought it was where I slept or how I slept, but red noticed the same time my lad was doing what he was in the kitchen I was waking up with what looked like chain marks around my wrists and arms and sometimes I awoke with scratches not 4 or 5 like a human hand but 3, just 3 linear scratches across my body.
Covid 2.0 come along, we all get locked down now hear I am with a young family so I did my door badge, I got night work as a security guard and red would refuse to sleep with A until I got home she would always say it felt like something / some one was watching her.
Now red had family down, and said family is a medium (at the time I would have laughed at this as I was very much so on the fence). But one night reds auntie was at her mums house and was doing a reading. During this reading she said she become overtaken by an entity she started pulling this horrible smile that my little lad used to do. (I wasn’t there to confirm this). But the next morning red and I and A are out and about in the car just been for hot chocolate when red gets a phone call from her mum.
Are you with T (me) red says yeah why? Her mum says get T and A to mine right now they both need to be saged with a white feather. So at this point I’m like *** off laughing but then I thought **** it I’ll ride the bus to the next stop. I walk into reds mums and her aunt (who I’ve never ever met doesn’t even know my second name) says to me you would have had a little boy, he would have been around 5 now and his birthday is in July.
Truth be told before I moved to Cornwall I had relations with a lady they should have been forbidden and she fell pregnant, but unfortunately lost the baby. How ever she was pulled to one side by a stranger in the street whom said 10th of July he would have been here.
So this lady reds aunt doesn’t know a thing about me but knew this, knew what faces / smirks A used to do and knew about him screaming from the kitchen and climbing up me in panic. She hadn’t seen or heard any of this no one had.
She proceeded to tell me I had a evil entity attached to my back and that’s why i suffer with back pain, this entity was hiding behind the spirit of my unborn and when A seen him or tried to interact with him he would come out from behind my unborn to scare him. He would use A•s fear and trauma as energy to try and make its self stronger as its end goal was me. It was terrorising my son to get to me.
I went white what the actual **** is going on, I spent the next few weeks thinking I was going insane. But things at the flat was getting worse I contacted Carrol and she said go into every room every storage room / cubard every dark space and say if you are not here with love and light then I command you too leave
A was getting more and more anxious in the flat, around this time we had been accepted for a house and one day he was in the hall way, I was getting the hoover out and he kept slamming the door on the cubard shut saying no daddy I thought he was being cute. I was wrong.
As things started to escalate we tried to reach out for help I’ve gone from a sceptic to a full on believer. We went to a witch shop a couple of towns over, the sell crystals candles etc etc. but when we walked in the woman wouldn’t even look at me, I tried to explain my story but A started messing around so I took him out side and this lady said to red no candles or crystals are going to help him with what he’s got she gave red two business cards for 2 white witches.
So let’s fast forward again at this point reds had enough A is unhappy! But we have a new house to move into so we said we would stay in the flat one last night before we go to the new house the next day. Our last night in the flat didn’t last from the second we walked in it felt so cold so unwelcoming just horrible atmosphere. So we packed up and went and slept on the couch in our new house. That was the last time red or A would step foot in that flat.
I had given my notice to my landlord about moving so I was there cleaning with L that’s reds sister and as we are cleaning we are both in separate rooms, she is in the kitchen I’m in the bedroom I hear her scream and then she ran into the room I was cleaning. Turns out this thing was not happy not happy at all. She was cleaning the cubard under the sink and as she tried to close the door she said it felt like something was pushing against it. She let go of it and it slammed shut. I did actually hear it from the bedroom, I told her to calm down it will be ok and we will work together.
I walked into the bathroom now this flats been empty all day I had had a wee when I first got there but other than that, nothing no one had used the bathroom. But when we walked in there was water everywhere sink was soaking wet, shower tray was soaking and the black and glitter tiles where soaked. We just wanted to get the **** done and get out. That night she left and swore she would never go back. Any who
I get reds mum over to sage the flat and she said she hated being in there, and I have 3 friends they are all into the paranormal, and wanted to explore the flat. I allowed them in as they where down on holiday and I’ll call him S is just like me emotionally dead only had two but after he left that flat he got in our friends car, he broke down in full blows tears and said he’s never felt so empty unloved and lonely. Another of our friends said he saw a long thin figure in the living room all in black with no eyes and was not of this world. He said the reason it had no eyes is because the eyes are a portal to the soul and things not of this plain can’t copy the eyes.
Any way let’s move on I left that flat and every time I left I had to say you are not welcome to follow me or attach to me, you are not welcome in my home or around my family you must stay here or go back to where you belong
Me red and A have lived in our new place a couple of years he’s happy no more screaming and running up me, red is comfortable and I haven’t awoke with chain marks since we started living here.
Red has crystals on all entry and exit points, she had the house saged, but on a whole she is happy and content, I am just never allowed to talk about these events infront of her. Last I heard that thing is still at the flat with my little unborn boy and my A•s grandad who did well to protect A.
This is my story that changed me from a sceptical to a firm believer in paranormal entity’s.

submitted by Terrible_Estimate606 to ParanormalEncounters [link] [comments]

2024.05.15 01:27 BuyWonderful Does anyone else remember a childhood game called 'Murder in the dark'?

I think it was Jack's idea. Or maybe it was Mindy who came up with it. You know, if I do try and really think about it .. well, maybe it could've actually even been me who decided we play it. I've spent hours trying to pierce my memory back together, more to pass the time and distract myself.. But it's all irrelevant, It doesn't matter now. Maybe it never did.
Mabel was turning 30 and it was up to us to plan the party. We were all nostalgic about childhood memories so we decided to go all out - Frogs in the pond (jelly cups with Freddo frogs), hot dogs and fairy bread, and we wrapped up prizes in newspaper for pass the parcel. Pin the tail on the donkey and Twister were set up ready to play, the spice girls were blaring on Spotify.
Mabel's eyes lit up when she walked into the room and her smile was worth all the effort we put in. We danced and played games, and as the sun started to set and it grew darker outside, someone suggested turning off the lights snd playing murder in the dark.
There were ohh's and ahh's, laughter as people remembered a game they most likely hadn't played since primary school. A collective chatter amongst us in agreeance to playing Someone handed out cards, while were told the rules of the game. And then the lights were tuned out.
For those of you who don't recall, these are the basic premise of the games rules -
You'll need - Pack of cards
Instructions - Sort through a deck of cards and find the following - an Ace, a Jack, a King, a Queen, and number cards for the amount of remaining people. (i.e.-if six people were playing, you would need two number cards.)
Each card means something - the Ace is the murderer, the Jack is the detective, the King is the detective if the Jack dies, and the Queen is the detective if the Jack and the King both die. The number cards just walk around for the beginning of the game.
Tell the players that all they need to worry about for the time being is if they get the Ace. Give a card to everyone. Nobody looks at each other's cards. Once they have their cards and have seen them, put them down somewhere out of the way for the next round.
Turn off all the lights so that it's completely dark. Everyone begins to spread out and walk about slowly, and try not to laugh or talk. Players aren't allowed to stick together in this game. During this time, the murderer is seeking 'victims'. When she/he finds someone alone, they quietly brush their shoulder and whisper, "You're dead." As an alternative, the murderer could clamp their hand over the persons mouth to avoid the person screaming, and then whisper "You're Dead".
The dead player drops to the ground, dead, and can not speak or move. The murderer may or may not hide the person they just killed in a hiding place. It is not advisable, however, due to the risk involved in getting caught. When a player sees a person lying down, they ask, "Are you dead?" The person simply nods 'yes' or shakes their head 'no', but they must tell the truth. If they nod, the person who found them shouts "Murder in the Dark!" and the lights are put on.
The murderer may not murder victims any longer and all the alive players assemble where the dead person was found. The players who are not present are noted as dead. The detective sits in a chair in front of all the others who are on the floor. He/she asks questions to each person. (i.e. where were you when someone yelled Murder in the Dark? Who do you think is the murderer and why? etc.)
When the detective has enough information and think they are ready, they say "Final Accusation" and ask one person-"Are you the murderer?" It is very important that the person answers TRUTHFULLY at the final accusation. If they are the murderer, then they must say yes. If correct players pick new cards and the game starts again. If wrong then turn out the lights and carry on.
Our rules were a bit different though. It was added in that it would be a last man standing game instead. We wouldn't have a detective - we would have a murderer, murderees and possibly one lone survivor. If someone did survive -Whoever who was still alive when the egg timer went off in 60 minutes - would be the winner. If the murderer had successfully killed everyone and there were no 'survivors' - than they had won the game.
I'll admit, it was spooky. There's just something unnerving about being in a room full of people that you cannot see but you can feel their body heat or hear them breathing. I began to walk around softly, careful to make as less noise as possible. As I wasn't the killer - I had no 'good card' I was just a waiting victim, so I wanted to hide and try and bide my time staying alive as long as possible. It didn't take long to find the first 'body'. I could tell it was Mabel from the way the long blonde hair trailed along the carpet. I whispered "Are you dead?" And I guess she mustn't have heard me because I didn't see her nod.
I moved on quickly, going into the spare bedroom. I didn't risk shutting the door behind me, I just went to hide under the bed. There was a body already under there though, I felt the warmness of human skin as I clambered under the mattress, my hand recoiling in shock as I brushed up against someone's leg. I didn't bother to ask whether they were dead, I mean I guess it was cheating a bit, but we were alone, and they were certainly doing a good enough job of playing dead it seemed just silly to ask.
I heard the muffled scream down towards the other end of the house, - the first 'victim' I'd heard to make any noise - and knew it was safe to make my move out of the bedroom to a better spot.
I nearly tripped on the bodies that were splayed out on the floor, in the hallway and the kitchen. Whoever had the murderer card was certainly taking the game seriously and playing to the best of their ability. I had yet to come across anyone else walking around and was starting to think I might actually have a chance of winning, depending on how much longer was on the egg timer, of course.
I made a beeline to the kitchen to check how much time we had, it honestly felt like the game had gone on forever - and I was shocked to feel the broken pieces of the egg timer on the kitchen bench. I looked at the clock on the microwave - the green numbers burning into my eyes. We had been playing for over three hours.
Something didn't feel quite right.
I tiptoed back into the hall to Mabel, leaning down to whisper to her that we'd been playing way too long - but then I felt something wet and slippery on my hands when I knelt down next to her. It was blood. I stifled a scream as my hands roamed and I realised the birthday girl had had her head caved in.
I backed away slowly, tears streaming down my face as I quietly made my way to the front door. I let myself out and ran across the road, banging on the neighbours door while constantly glancing behind me to see if I was being chased.
The neighbours nearly fainted when they saw me covered in blood and screaming, but they calmed me down by showing me they had double locked their door and called the police.
They don't know who killed all my friends. Everyone who was meant to be at the party was still in the house - slaughtered.
It's taken so much therapy and I'm still not sleeping at night. I wish I could go back and help my friends. I didn't know, but the blame remains.
I got a letter in the mail today though. It was a congratulations card, and written inside said 'last one standing - winner winner - care to rematch, Afterall the last game was so fun! I'll see you soon, when darkness comes.'
So my advice, don't play childhood games. They could have dire consequences.

submitted by BuyWonderful to nosleep [link] [comments]

2024.05.14 21:06 writtenonthebody34 Is a latex topper a good way to test out the “feel” of a latex mattress?

In our guest room, we have a mattress that’s almost like a futon — I think it’s basically made of wool, with no springs or foam. It’s very firm. I used to sleep on it when I was pregnant, because it provided great support. But most people think it’s too firm, and (now that I’m a little older) I think so too.
Meanwhile I have been in decision paralysis about a new mattress for my own room. I think I’d like to try a natural latex mattress, but it sounds like latex is a very specific feel, and I’d like to be able to test it out.
I was thinking of possibly ordering a latex topper for the guest room bed, with the idea that this would [1] let us test out whether we like sleeping on latex, and [2] make the very-firm guest bed more cushiony for guests. I thought then I could make a more informed decision about what kind of mattress to buy for my own room.
Is that a dumb idea? Or if it’s a reasonable idea, does anyone have any suggestions for how thick of a topper to try? I am about 110 lbs, but my partner is 6’4” and maybe 220 lbs. I’m a side and back sleeper, and he’s a side sleeper. (Our most frequent overnight guests who might use the guest room are anywhere in between.)
Thank you for any feedback or suggestions

submitted by writtenonthebody34 to Mattress [link] [comments]

2024.05.14 19:57 Klonopinbaby Is anyone interested in a barn cat?

My cat is very sweet and cuddly, a little shy, and does not use the litter box. I’ve tried everything from getting him fixed to new litter boxes, to putting his food all over the house. I’ve tried praising him when he uses the litter box and nothing has worked. He pees on everything including books, mattresses, clothes, and our food.
I love him dearly but I don’t want to live this way anymore and I don’t want to give him away to a shelter where he may be euthanized or rehomed once again after his new owners discover this behavior.
I know that there are people on this subreddit who are in need of a barn cat and I wanted to gauge interest. He’s a very good cat but is completely unsuitable for indoor life and I want to make sure he is given a good home. He deserves a good life and has shown mousing abilities which is partially why I came to this subreddit. I’d be willing to send him to you at no cost to you if you are interested in him. Dm me if you think you would have a good home for him and are interested.

submitted by Klonopinbaby to homestead [link] [comments]

2024.05.14 19:37 boringtyler Boring Topper Prototype now available

We’ve been working on a Boring Topper with the goal to enhance comfort for sleepers that might find their current mattress slightly too firm. By adding an additional 2” of high-quality comfort foam, you’ll be able to augment the current mattress feel to something more soft and plush.
What are the specs?
Height: 2”
Foam Type: Fast-recovery foam (marketed in the industry as “Energex”)
Density: 3.0
Firmness: 14 IFD
Certification: CertiPUR-US
Is the topper compatible with my mattress?
If you’re purchasing a topper to improve the comfort of a mattress that is old and sagging, we would instead suggest investing into replacing the entire mattress.
Old mattresses often have compromised layers, losing their ability to rebound fully to their original shape. Trying to fix it with a topper layer will not fix the root cause of the poor comfort.
What makes it a “prototype”?
The prototype does not include a cover, but with or without a cover the comfort will feel the same. You can place it on top of your current mattress, and put sheets or a protector over the combined topper + mattress.
While in development, we’ve been sharing our topper with various customers to gather feedback. It has been promising thus far, helping improve the sleep of customers who might have otherwise experienced the mattress as being too firm.
Is there a trial period for the topper?
The Topper comes with a 99-night sleep trial. The same offered with our Boring Mattress.
Where can I buy the topper?
In exchange for your feedback, we are offering the Topper prototype with special pricing on our website here: https://www.boring.co/products/topper
We expect to release the Boring Topper with a cover in the coming 1-2 months, as we iterate on customer feedback.

submitted by boringtyler to boringmattress [link] [comments]

2024.05.14 18:33 Cautious_Load_9316 Re-letting my apartment at Midtown 905

Hey there! I'm a UNT student trying to find someone to take over my lease, I had resigned it but due to life complications I'm not able to stay there next semester. The apartment details are as follows-
Apartment Complex Name: Midtown 905
Rent Price: $779
Roommates: 3 Males all under the age of 22, 2 of which do not live there on weekends
Amenities: Pool, in-complex study room, clubhouse with billiards, small weight room
Distance from campus: 12 minute walk with bus route literally across the street.
Nearby locations: QT across the street, Grease Monkey auto shop next door, 30 minute walk to Denton square
Room: the room is the bottom left in this image, it is the biggest of all the roomsimage of apartment
Furniture/appliances: In Unit Washer and Dryer, refrigerator, microwave, oven, dishwasher, couch, TV, mattress and frame, desk, chair, and dresser are all included.
Perks: my apartment complex is offering a $200 gift card for anyone who signs in the next month. Also you can have my air fryer if you take over my lease
If you're interested or want some more details you can call or text this number: 682-317-7852 make sure to leave a voice mail!! You can also email at: [avants132@gmail.com](mailto:avants132@gmail.com)

submitted by Cautious_Load_9316 to DentonClassifieds [link] [comments]

2024.05.14 18:32 Cautious_Load_9316 Re-letting my apartment

Hey there! I'm trying to find someone to take over my lease, I had resigned it but due to life complications I'm not able to stay there next semester. The apartment details are as follows-
Apartment Complex Name: Midtown 905
Rent Price: $779
Roommates: 3 Males all under the age of 22, 2 of which do not live there on weekends
Amenities: Pool, in-complex study room, clubhouse with billiards, small weight room
Distance from campus: 12 minute walk with bus route literally across the street.
Nearby locations: QT across the street, Grease Monkey auto shop next door, 30 minute walk to Denton square
Room: the room is the bottom left in this image, it is the biggest of all the roomsimage of apartment
Furniture/appliances: In Unit Washer and Dryer, refrigerator, microwave, oven, dishwasher, couch, TV, mattress and frame, desk, chair, and dresser are all included.
Perks: my apartment complex is offering a $200 gift card for anyone who signs in the next month. Also you can have my air fryer if you take over my lease
If you're interested or want some more details you can call or text this number: 682-317-7852 make sure to leave a voice mail!! You can also email at: [avants132@gmail.com](mailto:avants132@gmail.com)

submitted by Cautious_Load_9316 to unt [link] [comments]

2024.05.14 17:12 Tartanclad How Gates of Hell could make a Commonwealth faction truly unique

Recently Gates of Hell released the American faction and did a full overhaul of the German faction, leading to a pair of interesting factions with an incredible variety of historically authentic uniforms. You could zoom in on any of the squads and see the diverse uniforms depicted right down to the insignia on their caps and the regiments on their patches. Shermanator’s interview of Chase/Trudel (the lead animator & 3D human artist) gave me faith in the developer’s passion for the history and the game. This made me quite excited, because we have yet to see a British Commonwealth faction but there is some heavy implication that we can expect one in the future.
I wanted to make this thread, because I wanted to express my desire to see elements in the game that would make the Commonwealth faction a wealth of interesting units, uniforms and nationalities, particularly via the doctrines system that exists within the game. The intention is to throw in representatives across all the major nations of the British Commonwealth as well as some of the Allied armies-in-exile that came under British command. I also want to highlight some of the vehicles that are rarely mentioned in other games due to their obscure theatre or role. For the record, I'm not telling the devs what to do - I'm just making some example doctrines that I came up with as an example of the variety of units I'd love to see and making their inclusion plausible. Mostly to get the community talking.
I won’t talk about early war, partially because ‘Early war’ in Gates of Hell is largely post-Dunkirk, but also because I feel like what I am asking is still quite a lot just for one faction across two eras. I also I won’t be mentioning the more obvious or general units like Stuarts, Crusaders, Cromwells, Grants etc, as I expect them to be added nonetheless. It’s the vaguer aspects of the Commonwealth I wanted to talk about; the weird, wonderful and the diverse.
Mid War Doctrines
I think the mid-war should be largely inspired by the North African Campaigns, centred largely on the 8th Army and utilising the huge variety of cultures that fought within it. Extra bits can be added from the Italian campaign where the faction is lacking, and the Italian campaign can also be represented in the ‘Temperate’ skin for the mid-war faction. There are a lot of inspirations one can draw to create a variety of options for the Commonwealth player and each doctrine should draw from their unique aspects.
All-Round: Inspired by the Desert Rats, the 2nd Battle of El Alamein and Operation Crusader this one balances the various aspects of the other doctrines while keeping it unique. I’d like to see the Infantry include British Desert Rats Infantry, 2nd New Zealand Infantry, & 1st South African Infantry. I’d also like to see South African Marmon-Herrington Armoured Cars (multiple variants) as an early-battle option, plenty of the more common tanks and maybe the Bishop as a slow but mobile artillery piece. As a special call-in, we could probably include the Free French Legionaries as a powerful assault unit, just to really complete the variety in this division.
Defensive: Inspired by the Siege of Tobruk, this doctrine should primarily represent the Australians. Variations of the Australian 9th Division troops as infantry alongside minor British elements with a heavy emphasis on field engineers, emplacements and field guns. Defensive doctrine could also include RAF Regiment infantry, RAF 20mm Oerlikon guns, RAF Rolls Royces, India Pattern Carriers (from the Indian 18th Division), air strikes and, as a special unit, they could even have captured Italian tanks from the 6th Australian Division Cavalry Regiment! As a defensive doctrine, they should also have access to the best mid-war field guns, including the rare (but historical) ’Pheasant’ 17/25 Pounder Field Gun.
Offensive: Inspired by the Battle of Tunisia and Operation Torch, I think this one should show off the might of the UK’s heavier vehicles in the latter stages of the African campaign, particularly the Churchill III, Sherman III, the Priest 105mm and the Stuart Command Tank, alongside the more standard British tank options. As for infantry options, we can include Indian troops of the 4th Infantry Division (India), Gurkhas, and a motorised unit of 22nd Guards Infantry. I would also add the British Commandos in this division - partly because they were involved in Operation Torch, but also because they had an iconic impact on the mid-war (outside of Africa) that it would be a pity not to add them.
Irregular: This one would be quite unique in mid-war as it is effectively the light vehicle special forces doctrine. Although some standard British units would form the basis of the army, they would have access to a variety of assets representing the Long Range Desert Group; Chevrolet trucks with mounted Vickers MGs, Boys AT rifles, twin 303 Brownings or even Bofors and captured 20mm Breda guns! ‘Bamtam’ jeeps with twin Vickers Ks or 303 Brownings. The transport and logistics would be different too, using the Marmon-Herrington 6-ton Heavy Truck or the White 1064 10-ton. Other unique special call-ins would include an LRDG WACO Recon plane and the SAS (armed with the Lewes bomb). The downside to this doctrine, however, is that imagine it to be much lighter on armoured support, relying mostly on towed guns for its heavy firepower.
Other Units: I’ve tried to use inspirations from specific parts of the war to get a rounded but also diverse array of units, but there are loads of obscure units across the mid-war that I’d love to see; the Priest 105mm SPG, the AEC Deacon Gun Carrier, the Daimler Dingo, the Humber Light Reconnaissance, and so on.
That is as much as I want to say on mid-war without labouring the point. I’m sure there’s interesting things I’ve missed accidentally, and I’m afraid there’s some I have missed on purpose. For example, I considered the Australian Matilda Hedgehog, but it turned out to be late war and never used. I also considered the Greek and the Czech Division, but I think I’ve already stretched it too far as regards voice acting alone without adding units that, as distinguished their service might be, are just too obscure without adding anything extra - appearance or gameplay. That said, my hat would go off to the devs if they achieved that.
Late War Doctrines
Here we get to represent the Commonwealth units from Operation Overlord up until Operation Varsity.
All-Round: The quintessential British doctrine, combining bog-standard infantry with hardy tanks and a decent array of equipment. Partially based on Gold Beach, but also Operation Varsity/Plunder towards the end of the war, I would personally give them 50th (Northumbrian) Infantry, RAF Regiment Gunners, RAF Humber Light AC, Churchill AVRE, the Cruiser Mk. VIII Challenger and the Comet. Maybe give them some 6th Airlanding troops and 1st Canadian Parachute Infantry as a reference to the Normandy paratroopers if we feel they need more skilled infantry.
Offensive: The Canadian Doctrine - mostly inspired by the First Canadian Army in Normandy with elements of their experiences later on (including the Battle of the Schelt and Operation Veritable) with the doctrine largely focused on armoured assault infantry. They’ll look quite unique compared to the British because their uniforms were greener and they were the first to use the British-designed Mk.III helmet at D-Day. Troops of the 3rd Canadian Infantry Division as standard, supported by assault infantry. Eventually, armoured infantry can spawn in Buffalos (used at the Battle of the Schelt) and, as a special call-in, Ram Kangaroo APCs (sporting an armoured MG turret). The Otter armoured car would be an early call-in, with M4A1 Sherman Grizzly tanks as well as Ram IIs available in the standard tank tab. Some unique but limited special call-ins would include the Skink AA tank (of which 2 saw historical combat in Normandy) as well as a skilled sniper wielding the Ross rifle.
Defensive: Just as the US Defensive doctrine features the 101st Airborne (no doubt inspired by the Battle of Bastogne), the British Defensive doctrine can feature the British Airborne - particularly based on the defense of Arnhem Bridge in the Netherlands as part of Market Garden. Infantry units can include the 52nd (Lowland) Infantry, 1st Airborne Paratroopers, 1st Airlanding Infantry, Parachute Squadron Royal Engineers and 1st (Polish) Independent Paratroopers (who are distinctive with their grey berets). Armoured units can include the Tetrarch and the M22 Locust. To suit their defensive doctrine, they should get some decent guns and I’m thinking the airborne jeep-towed 20mm Polsten Gun, airborne 17th Pounder as well as (in a departure from the Parachute theme) the BL 7.2-inch howitzer. The Patchett sub-machine gun could make an appearance here too.
Irregular: Based on Sword Beach, Commandos and the 79th Armoured Division, with the more unusual units in the British arsenal. Probably with 3rd Infantry Division Infantry as standard, this unit could have access to No.41 (Royal Marine) Commandos, Fusilier Marines Commandos (based on No.4 Commando’s assault on Ouestreham), the Centaur Mk.IV QF 95mm, the Sherman DD, the Churchill Crocodile and Royal Engineer Assault Teams deployed in the cute Terrapin 4-ton Amphibious. If we want to be really wacky, we could even add the M3 Grant CDL (an unarmed searchlight tank) for armoured spotting, similar to the 150cm Flakscheinwerfer searchlight.
Other Units: Further unique units that would fit in any one (or multiple) of these divisions (based on balance) include the Land Mattress Rocket Launcher, the Loyd Carrier, the Universal Carrier WASP (flamethrower), the Sexton SPG, Sherman Firefly, the Archer TD, Achilles TD, the Priest Kangaroo, the Morris C8, Staghound and so on. There are SO many strange and obscure British vehicles that don’t often see the light of day, but would be perfect for Gates of Hell.
Post-release Doctrines -
More of a final thought than anything else, but if/when the Japanese get added into the game, I’d love to see a fifth doctrine to represent the British 14th Army to match the Japanese. A doctrine that is mostly comprised of Indian infantry and Indian tanks, with representation from the East/West African Divisions, Gurkhas and the British 2nd or 36th Infantry Divisions. Special call-ins could include the Chindits (using Thompsons and the Jungle Carbine) and paratroopers of the 50th Indian Parachute Brigade. If we’re feeling generous enough to allow the doctrine to encompass the Pacific Islands as well, we could also include an Australian squad armed with the Owen SMG, South Pacific Scouts, the Matida Frog (flamethrower) and the Matilda QF 3-Inch.
Conclusion: I apologise for such a long read. But I hope we see how a bit of ambition could really help the Commonwealth stand out and be worthy of the variety seen in the other factions since their overhaul. While the Germans have Spanish soldiers in their ranks, the Commonwealth can see the UK, Canada, India, Australia, New Zealand, South Africa, Poland, and France (and technically Nepal) all get some recognition. While the German Kriegsmarine and Luftwaffe stand out on the field, the Commonwealth might get the distinctive blue battledress of the RAF Regiment, or the long white tunics of the Foreign Legion. We would see such a variety of hats including pith helmets, berets, kepis, dastars, keffiyehs and slouch hats. Some units, like the LRDG vehicles, might even stand out as unique from any of the nations already in the game. It’s a lot of colourful uniforms, a lot of voices and a lot of strange and wonderful machines.
However, it does come with its downsides. Firstly, Africa and Europe are such dramatically different theatres that their version of mid & late war are incredibly different to one another. So much so that the depth of variety might make the faction too big, making it a lot of effort for the art department (especially with uniforms changing for the map’s climate. Imagine making skins for temperate, desert AND snow). The second issue is whether France is getting its own faction in future iterations of the game (the French flag appears in the loading screen during Axis vs Allies games). The final (and probably biggest) issue is voice acting. I’m no expert on games development, but I gather that getting enough voice actors for a faction is hard enough as it is without having to accurately represent 9 countries at once. I would love to hear the developer’s thoughts on the matter - whether such a project is within the game’s scope and if they have the ambition to take it this far.
Do let me all know what you think as well.

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2024.05.14 13:24 Dependent-Finish-390 Grey Corner Sofa Beds: The Perfect Blend of Form and Function for Any Home Decor

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Grey Corner Sofa Beds
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2024.05.14 12:32 ayushgupta17 Your Comprehensive Guide to Floor Mattresses: Making the Right Choice in 2024

https://preview.redd.it/x95m9nqcdd0d1.png?width=3200&format=png&auto=webp&s=db3b5ff6e9deb05138bb9ecca2cce9197a738464
In the realm of modern living, versatility and practicality are increasingly valued qualities when it comes to furniture. Among the many innovative solutions that have emerged to meet these demands, floor mattresses have gained considerable popularity. Offering a blend of comfort, convenience, and space-saving design, floor mattresses have become a go-to choice for many households. In this guide, we'll explore the benefits and uses of floor mattresses from the user's perspective, helping you make an informed decision when considering this versatile piece of furniture in 2024.
Understanding Floor Mattresses: Floor mattresses, also known as futons or Japanese tatami mattresses, are essentially mattresses designed to be placed directly on the floor, without the need for a bed frame or foundation. They come in various sizes, from single to king size, catering to different preferences and space constraints. Unlike traditional mattresses, floor mattresses are typically thinner and more flexible, allowing for easy storage and mobility. They are often made from materials like foam, latex, or memory foam, offering a comfortable sleeping surface while still maintaining a compact and lightweight design.
Benefits of Floor Mattresses:

Space-Saving Design: One of the primary advantages of floor mattress is their space-saving design. Without the need for a bulky bed frame, floor mattresses can help maximize space in smaller rooms or apartments. They are ideal for dormitories, guest rooms, or any space where square footage is limited.
Versatility: Floor mattresses are incredibly versatile and can serve multiple purposes beyond sleeping. They can be used as seating arrangements during the day, providing a comfortable spot for lounging, reading, or watching TV. Some floor mattresses even come with adjustable backrests or armrests, further enhancing their versatility.
Portability: Unlike traditional mattresses, which can be cumbersome to move, floor mattresses are lightweight and easy to transport. This makes them perfect for individuals who frequently move or for camping trips and outdoor adventures where a comfortable sleeping surface is needed.
Cost-Effectiveness: Floor mattresses are often more affordable than traditional mattresses and bed frames, making them a cost-effective solution for budget-conscious consumers. Additionally, their multi-functional design means you get more value for your money, as they can be used for both sleeping and seating purposes.
Accessibility: For individuals with mobility issues or elderly people, floor mattresses offer greater accessibility compared to traditional beds. Their low profile makes it easier to get in and out of bed without the need for climbing or lifting oneself onto a raised surface.

Uses of Floor Mattresses:

Guest Accommodation: Floor mattresses are perfect for accommodating overnight guests, providing a comfortable sleeping space without the need for a dedicated guest room or bed. Simply place the floor mattress in any room or living area, and you have an instant guest bed ready to go.
Temporary Sleeping Arrangements: Whether you're moving into a new home, renovating your bedroom, or hosting a sleepover for the kids, floor mattresses offer a convenient temporary sleeping solution. They can be easily set up and taken down as needed, allowing for flexibility in your living arrangements.
Meditation or Yoga Practice: Floor mattresses provide a supportive and comfortable surface for meditation or yoga practice. Their low profile and cushioned surface make them ideal for sitting or lying down during mindfulness exercises, promoting relaxation and stress relief.
Child's Play Area: Floor mattresses can double as a safe and comfortable play area for young children. Spread out a few floor mattresses in a designated play area, and your kids can engage in imaginative play, arts and crafts, or simply relax and unwind.
Outdoor Activities: Take your online floor mattress with you on camping trips, picnics, or beach outings for added comfort and convenience. Whether used as a sleeping pad inside a tent or as a lounging spot under the stars, floor mattresses make outdoor adventures more enjoyable.

Conclusion: In conclusion, floor mattresses offer a myriad of benefits and uses from a user's point of view. Their space-saving design, versatility, portability, cost-effectiveness, and accessibility make them a practical and convenient choice for modern living. Whether you're looking for a guest bed, a temporary sleeping arrangement, a versatile seating option, or a comfortable surface for various activities, floor mattresses have you covered. With their simple yet functional design, floor mattresses are sure to remain a popular choice for households in 2024 and beyond.

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2024.05.14 08:33 McComfortable I'm in serious need of help and it feels like it's too late for me

I don't really no where to start. I feel I've lost myself, consumed with anxiety and guilt and fear and regret and I fear, this new fear, that it's going to be the end of me if I don't start to get it out in some way, shape or form.
I guess I'll begin at the beginning...

I had a difficult childhood with fairly neglectful parents. A mother who openly expressed she never felt she really stepped into her mom shoes until she gave birth to my younger sister, who is three years younger than me. She is my only sibling. My mother told me when I was a kid that she "had to love me", but when my sister came around "she was finally a mother and over the moon", or simply "I always always wanted a girl". I'm not sure if this could be attributed to Post-partum depression, not that she ever researched that or was daignosed with it. That's probably just me trying to pardon my mother or something to the effect. She was 17 when she had me and I'm sure times were different then, my parents both were raised religious, father christian, mother mormon. Maybe their guilt. I ask myself why they brought me into this world if I wasn't wanted to begin with. Or, give me up for adoption to a set of guardians that would have loved me better. I know I was an accident and that's not what gets me down, I get that life be lifing and what happened happened. My difficulties stem from the feeling that my presence never gave my mother any sense of purpose, responsibility or love, or concern. She was emotionally unavailable to me virtually my entire life and I feel like that caused many issues later in my life and how I perceive myself and what I deserve. Coupled with the fact that my neglect met such extremes that I am frankly shocked that I was never picked up by child care services, maybe things were different in the 90's. I'm not sure, I was just a child then.
Much of my upbringing I didn't receive a lot of the things most people would consider essential. As a baby my crib was the sock drawer, then I grew large enough to have a closet, then slept on the floor of a walk-in closet, then I had a single bed from what I recall for maybe a year or maybe two years and I remember feeling metal springs poke me in the my ribs and I recall it being uncomfortable enough for me to move back to sleeping on the floor next to the ratty old used mattress my father found from who knows where. I remember feeling like I had to keep that secret, that the mattress they gave me was uncomfortable enough for me to sneak sleeping on the floor next to it. I think I was really afraid as coming across as ungrateful. My father came from a third world country, so the "gratefullness issue" was address frequently by my mom because "I don't have it even half as bad as what my father had to endure. And she was probably right. But it just silenced me ultimately, didn't put things into a mature context for me. I just learned that I can't complain about anything ever. Anyway, that trend didn't really change when I grew older. grade 9-10 I was sleeping on the living room couch so my sister could have privacy and a bedroom to exist in for herself - which I realize is important for an individual so I encouraged her to have the bedroom. Although I figured my parents expected me to do this for my sister regardless. I was okay with making sacrfices for those I love, it was instilled in me from a very very young age.
I do feel like my father took advantage of me in the form of labour as well, having to do custodial work with my father from 10pm to 3am, at two highschools I believe he was contracted, at that young age I honestly enjoyed just spending time with my father I think, working alongside him. When I was in grade 2 and 3 I had garbage bag duty for all the students bathrooms, and I remember loving snapping the bags open by rushing air into the bag and making it blow up like a baloon. I remember the scary unlit shadowy hallways that I couldn't perceive the ends of. No bodies to see, it felt eerie but exciting in a way - like it was a whole different world.
School was a different experience for me. It was very stressful, my parents had to move a few times a year because they would dodge rent or just generally be selfish with their dual income. They loved to party hard on the weekends. I remember wondering why my father did this to himself all the time. Hoping that we could spend quality time on a saturday, but he wouldnt get out of bed until just before dinner. I didn't really understand hangovers or alcoholism and how it meant our plans would get cancelled. I think I remember trying to wrap my head around willful self-poisoning for entertainment and how could that be more enjoyable then spending time with your son? I couldn't tell my mother why I was so sad about it. Why I didn't want to move again and again and again. Why I found it so difficult to make new friends everytime I had to switch schools. Why I couldn't just do one single full school year with one class of students. It was so hard and at the time, I didn't know anything different. It was so hard to make friends and I think it created this approach to making a "new family" of friends when I became a teenager and young adult.

I remember always wanting to be a "good kid". The "best kid" for my parents. I feel like my parents attached this moniker to me that made things harder for me to mature into a rounded adult later in life. My parents always flaunted me as this point of accomplishment, the accomplishment that I was "so extremely well behaved". I would strive to be super polite, and a good host, try to help out when my parents had their friends over, literally fill their cups when the opportunity presented themselves. I think I did this because I must have made the conclusion that if I was quiet, super polite, helpful and useful then I had value. That I could be loved. That I could earn this love from my parents through acts of service.
I remember feeling like my sister and I had extremely different experiences growing up. When my parents were at work I took care of her, cleaned and cooked. one time my sister told my mom to eff off when she was 5 and I was 8. My mind was blown. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that she had the bravery and courage to defy my mother. Looking back, my sister was just mirroring the language she learned from my parents from whenever they fought. I remembering seriously worrying and getting scared that my father was going to belt her, or use the coat hanger, which was his preference with me. I feel like my mom was always checked out and I'm hurt that she allowed my father to take his rage out on me. That my mom could care less about me being beat, but never my sibling. It was very confusing and difficult for me to process. Not that I really processed it much as a kid. I honestly just wanted to be loved and be the best child possible. Honestly though, 'm seriously so glad that my sister was spared all of that complete non-sense. I don't wish that on anyone in the world. There were some punishments where he would walk in and tell me to pull my pants down without explanation. I have memories of tearing up and saying I didn't know why this was happening, asking what I did wrong and he would just remind me that if I resisted then I would get it worse and to hurry up and get ready. My father has since apologized. I think it is how he was raised. I didn't know what to say in response, but I told him I loved him and it's in the past. But I don't know if I was being honest when I said that. My mother would still gaslight me to this day if any of this became topic of discussion, not that I'm guessing. A year ago she told me that much of my pained memories were false and this never happened. My father on the other hand typically stays pensive and unchallenging.
It seems so damned crazy writing all of this out, it feels like a heartbreaking novel and not my life at all. But it was and is my life. I have difficulties opening up and expressing my feelings and advocating for myself when the moments are true and appropriate to do so. I know it's the healthier way to communicate, but I was literally taught to stay quiet and be useful. Fast forward 20-25 years and I'm going to be 35 and I feel like just ending it all. Every year my birthday passes and I'll get a text from my family happy birthday. But they know I'm in a difficult place, they know I miss them, they know I love them and forgive them, I try the high road whenever I can but I just don't see the point anymore. they won't celebrate my life and existence, but they'll throw family gatherings for each other, birthdays, christmas, fathers day and mothers day.
On that note, another mother's day has recently passed and my mother never invited me over, I texted my father three weeks in advance in hopes of securing a time to come over and celebrate my mothers life with my family as a family. I felt particularly stung this mother's day when they celebrated and didn't text or call to invite me over. I live in the same small town so it's easy to hop over. I literally live three blocks away.
Anyway, my mother was diagnosed with cancer over christmas this year and I have been worrying for my mother ever since and thinking about my life with her and the mortal coil and the finite mount of time I may have with her. I feel like there is a large empty part in my heart that wishes my mother and I could go grab a coffee together. She can show me her ipad app art that she has been really excited about for a couple years now. She loves showing off her digital art and I love seeing her joy and how proud she is about her art. I just don't know why she couldn't feel the same for me, her only son. Maybe I'm just a her dissapointment.
I dropped out of highschool and left the family home when I was 16. I just couldn't work for my dad during the night AND go to highschool AND socialize. Something had to give. Unfortunately it was highschool and my parents didn't really care about that at all. They were just... fine with it. they supported my sister through college and she was fortunately able to graduate with a veterinary degree of sorts. she still lives with them now as she pays off her student debt, but I left and travelled and worked on music for over a decade so I admit that I was entirely out of the family picture for some time. But as I get older, not wanting to repeat the mistakes of my parents I fear that that is precisely what's been creeping up in my life.
five years ago I met the absolute most wonderful human being and I am so lucky to have my partner in my life. She and I are engaged now and set to be married. I hoped that the news would overwhelm my parents with excitement and joy. Maybe a facebook post about their son, share some family pictures or something. But they did nothing at all. I think they showed off pictures of the trip to Mexico that week instead.
I just don't really understand how I'm this unworthy of their love and unfortunately now I'm realizing that illusion that I am unworthy has infected my relationship with my fiance. I love her so much but when I can't fix everything in her life I feel like I am the failure and the guilt overhelms me so much and the guilt is such a strong motivator for me, and it usually motivates me into becoming the biggest doormat in the world. I've never worked harder for a relationship or invested this much energy. I feel she deserves it. But I don't advocate for myself. So I build up resentment. Like I clean the house constantly and work and help bail out of her bad spending habits and cover her rent without question and this and that. To be clear, she doesn't take advantage of me and that's not how I feel about it. But I do let this annoyance build up inside of me because I don't know how to communicate my feelings in a healthy way. I'm scared I'll lose the person if I speak up, or I'll be gaslit. Again, that's not my partner that gaslights. That's just generally how I feel I'll be treated if I open up with people. It all goes back to my childhood. It's affected every friendship and work relationship I've had since.
When I was 20-ish, 15 years years ago I did the classic, "seek the relationship that most comfortably fits into the patterns you experienced with your parents". And so I trapped myself in a horrific and extremely damaging relationship with a girl I'll call K. She has undiagnosed bipolaBPD, she would never seek help but self-medicate. She ended up in the hospital maybe four times for self-harming and this where she was considered to have these diseases by a few doctors on different occasions. Anway, it turned into a relationship of abuse and it wasn't exactly new territory for me. I was ashamed in that 8 year relationship. I wanted out so bad, but she would threaten to unalive everytime I tried to get away. Of course, some weeks would go by and i would get my hair pulled out of my scalp, a knife waving in the air in front of my face, spat in the face, kicked, punched, bit, a pot of freshly boiled ramen soup thrown in my face and eyes. What's worse is that I seeked police intervention on multiple occasions. Every single time the police visited, they talked me out of pressing charges, asking me " well if she doesn't have any place to go, then do you have a place you can stay at, or the shelter?". twice they talked me out of a restraining order, that legal proceedings would take forever. Adn de-escalting me from wanting to take measures to ensure my safety because she may end up on the street as a result. To this day, I absolutely wish I advocated for myself here and pushed for a restraining order. I'm so mad at myself for not doing so.
Unfortunately, fast forward a couple years into that relationship and one evening everything would finally hit the fan. I told her to never touch me again and I absolutely meant it. she had just yanked out the largest chunk of my hair to date, to the point where my scalp was bleeding and I could even see epidermal matter still attached to the folicle ends that were in her clenched fingers. My head bled a bit and I pushed her off of me. Telling her that I needed to leave, that I was walking to my secure jam space just a 10 minute walk away. It had a leather couch in a cold concrete basement, but hey at least I would be safe for the night and I could play my drums and try and blow off this anxiety and fear in a way that was safe albeit very noisy.
She hated that I wanted to leave and convinced herself I would never return. To be fair, that was the energy I had. I never wanted to see her face again and have her name on my lips after that night. So her tactic was simple, to threaten me with calling the cops and tell them that I violently pushed her. I called her bluff and said "go ahead and I will just tell them everything you've done - yet again. All I am doing is going to the space to sleep, I said, maybe play drums." She called the cops and told them she was pushed into a wall, and she felt very unsafe. Which yes, I did push her off me when she attacked me. In the past, I tried various tactics, to run away didn't work, she just always chased me down. Or sometimes I would just sit there while she was violent against me and I just "dissapeared" kind of like how I would when my dad used his coat hanger. This time, I just pushed her off of me, I was done with the relationship at that point and we both knew it. Anyway, she called the police, they arrived and when questioned I told them that I pushed her off of me in self-defence. I was drinking that night and it didn't help my case as I was arrested without question that evening and I was charged on the spot without question with domestic assault. It devasted me. I asked the police how this could happen lawfully. That she is an abuser and there is a history of this multiple times. That I've requested a restraining order. They explained that in quebec the laws are a little different and in the case domestic cases, if there is a male aggressor against a female, then the male is automatically charged to the fullest extent. I was absolutelyu devasted by this. I can't tell you the amount of fear and anger I felt in that jail cell that night.
I feel so incredibly betrayed by the justice system, keep in mind, this is law that from what I understand is only in Quebec, I was there for music at the time with an old friend whom I am no longer in contact with. I don't think the rest of the country operates under law in this way. Now I appreciate that they are vigilant about woman abuse victims, but the law shouldn't be this absurdly biased. It just doesnt feel just and fair to me. Covert abusers shouldn't be able to take advantage of the justice system in this way, but it happens.
It was an awful experience, I was homeless for a couple months afterward, not allowed to retrieve my belongings, so I lost all of my life "crap" that I had built up, years of hardwork and investment. I mention this because I realize later in life that I have intense collecting behaviour. maybe as a self-soothing behaviour. But I love building up collections of my hobby stuff as I have many and I feel they keep me regulated and it's a form of therapy for me. In any case, I lost everything when I left that whole situation. It sucks, although ultimately it's clearly best that I got out of that dreadful circumstance. I flew across the country to my hometown and to be closer to my family and old friends from highschool. It's quite a small town mind you.
Unfortunately, my classic tendency to hide and not advocate for myself created an opportunity for my abusive ex. A year following those events, despite me assuring her that I had to block her because I flew away to start a new life provinces away. That I wished her the best. That I even promised I would never tell a soul what she did to me. Not to mention that unfortunately we live in a society where nobody really has an ounce of sympathy for a male abuse victim. I had every intention to keep that promise, but she couldn't trust me ultimately. I think her logic was maybe to just beat her ex to "the punch". Kill or be killed or something like that. I don't live my life like that so I don't really know what her plan was. But she made a bunch of posts on various social media platforms for all of our mutual friends, music friends, coworkers etc. that the relationship was over and she was free. That she got out of a cycle of abuse and she was ready to start a new chapter of her life. She never used my name, just that she was glad she got away from her toxic and abusive ex once and for all.
It was exactly like that night a year prior, she threatened me with this outcome she could design for me, and I called her on her bluff by saying I was still going to block her and I can't control what she does with her life or how she conducts herself, but that I was out and to never contact me ever again. She made me regret that decision.
The posts she made that day got so many likes and support from so many of our mutual friends, even musician mates that were closer to me than her, and it absolutely destroyed me, not just internally but socially. I no longer make music anymore and it hurts to go outside into the world because it feels like everybody sees me as this monster. And still I don't have a voice to inform anyone otherwise - except my family and my fiance. I have no friends anymore. They all left my life with the belief that I did all of these horrible and awful things.
I just don't trust people anymore as a result and it's just caused me to become extremely bitter and depressed. I ruminate on the past, maybe in attempts to fix the past so I can move on. So I could do better, so I don't have to punish myself for my mistakes in the past. But it just reopens every emotional wound I have and they never get a chance to heal. That was maybe 7 years ago now and I'm still replaying these events in my head every single morning for about 1 - 2 hrs. Then I go completely numb for the majority of the rest of the day, shallow breathing, and the mildest sadness that mascarades as fatigue and disinterest.
There are some days where I seriously fear for the future and I just feel like every cruel soul will inherit this earth and that's the future, they built this world of suffering and they deserve to inherit it. Their toxic flag staked so deep into the earth in reclamation. The future isn't holding any seats for people like us. I'm so heartbroken and defeated. I feel like white-wolfing my fiance because she deserves better than this traumatized person that hides from the world. I feel like giving her my collection of collections so she can sell it all off and pay off her 10k of credit debt, then with this act of kindness I can go out not feeling like a guilt-ridden defeated loser. And leave on a high note.
When I'm alone, I get trapped in these ruminating cycles and it's the angriest I ever get. It's reached the point where I feel like I am actually reliving all this past trauma every morning and I can't do it anymore. I just feel like I am so at the end of whatever this ride was.
I don't have any friends anymore and everyone but my fiance thinks I am a monster and it's just unbearable.
I just don't even know. I am even afraid that someone will read this post and suss through all of this and make the connection. Then I'll get another new email or random throwaway account with an insta message that says "I told you you would never be able to get over me. You can move on, but you will never be able to erase the past. Never truly. You know where to find me."
It's haunting and it's poisonous. I just feel haunted and poisoned and I don't know if there is a snake oil potent enough or antitode true enough to get me back to the generous, lighthearted, energetic kid I once was.
To whoever was willing to read through all of this, thank you for hearing me out. I don't know what advice I am even asking for here. I'm hoping just speaking this out into the world in some way can alleviate this misery. I don't know.

submitted by McComfortable to Healthygamergg [link] [comments]

2024.05.14 07:36 randomdude4356 Why am I so stressed about money?

My (35m) wife (35f) and I make more than I ever could have imagined (250k HHI, double what we were making just 4 years ago) yet it I can’t shake the feeling of being “poor” because her spending / never ending desire of big ticket “needs” is stressing me out.
This has been amplified after moving from our starter house in the city to our new build “forever” home in the suburbs. The house is beautiful and we have great neighbours with similar aged kids but it’s taking up too much time and money to maintain for my liking. More importantly it just feels like my wife will never feel content with our own home since she’s always comparing to the neighbours who a) all seem to be at least 5 years older than us b) moved in two years before we did so have a head start on things like interior decorating/landscaping and c) have just flat out spent more than we have and thus I’ll always feel this way despite being in A beautiful home and in the best financial shape of our life.
Off the top of my head, in the past 18 months we’ve have spent 8k on a fence, 3k on window treatments for two rooms, 5k on a mattresses, 4k on a second car, and 5k on lasik. All things that we “needed” but just seems like it’s never ending and leading to more expensive purchases. Now she wants deck and 100k backyard.
We’re saving a decent amount, albeit about 80% of total retirement savings have been in my accounts despite her income being 33% more than mine. I just hate this feeling of non-stop spending when we could be better securing our future. Ive been raising this to our therapist for years but my wife just can’t stop and/or doesn’t seem to care.
The stress led to a mental health breakdown recently in part due to my wife’s spending but also some personal reasons (stress from my job, my niece turned 14, which was the age I was when my dad died to obesity (caused by family, work, and financial stress), and my mom started chemotherapy and I was exposed to her awful financial picture, despite having a paid off house and decent pension).
It’s not all bad financially with my wife so it would be a disservice not to mention the following things that I consider myself lucky to have in a spouse. 1. She’s smart and makes good money 2. She never spends what we don’t have (goes into debt) 3. Her desire for more was the extrinsic motivation that led to increased incomes for both of us, but i thought the saving would continue after we had enough for the new house. Unfortunately, it’s just turned into lifestyle creep.
My main goal is living life to the fullest (heavy on experiences, less so on material possessions) and teaching my daughter a healthy and active lifestyle. Should I be this stressed with our financial picture? Am I just being paranoid? Maybe I need to stay off all these money forums? Or do I need to give my wife some sort of ultamatim about getting on the same page financially if she wants to stay together?
HHI: 250,000 Monthly Net: 11,000 (after taxes, health insurance, 401k, hsa, and dependent care fsa)
Major Expenses Mortgage: 4000 (640,000 remaining, pmt includes P&I, home insurance, and taxes) Daycare: 1300 Grocery/Gas: 600 Utilities: 400 Cleaner: 250 Cars: 0
Retirement Accounts: 152,000 (401k, 403, HSA) Cash: 20,000 Brokerage: 17,000 Monthly Retirement Savings: 3,333 Monthly Sinking Fund Savings: 800

submitted by randomdude4356 to MiddleClassFinance [link] [comments]

2024.05.14 07:04 Leather-Skirt6600 I was laying here thinking about big bang theory and made a script based on a joke I made inside my head

[INT. APARTMENT - DAY]
(Sheldon and Leonard walk into the apartment, each holding bags with clothes. The bags read "Playdoe's Closet".)
Sheldon: I am very disappointed.
Leonard: Why? Sheldon, we got you new shirts. Look, this one has Flash on it...
(Sheldon sits down in his spot, setting the bag down.)
Sheldon: There was absolutely no Playdoe at Playdoe's Closet.
(Leonard giggles to himself.)
Leonard: You didn't actually think there was Playdoe at Pla—
(He cuts himself off.)
Leonard: Who am I kidding? Of course you did.
Laugh track
Sheldon: A comic book store is called a comic book store because it has comic books. A mattress store is titled a mattress store because it has mattresses. Therefore, Playdoe's Closet should be full of closets with Playdoe...
Leonard: Ugh... Sheldon, why would you even want a store full of Playdoe? That doesn't even make sense.
Sheldon: It makes perfect sense, Leonard. Playdoe is fun.
Leonard: No, it's not. It's... Playdoe.
Sheldon: gasp Leonard?! How can you not find the idea of endless possibilities and the probability of creation from the tiny plastic tube of wonder?
(Howard, sitting in the corner, speaks up.)
Howard: Sheldon, why would anyone over the age of 10 want to play with Playdoe?
Sheldon: Well, there are lots of people, like people who find solace in the vast, nearly infinite possibilities of all the colors and shapes you can make... and single mothers who want to keep their kids entertained.
Howard: mothers, you say? Maybe I can get—
Leonard: Howard, no. You're not gonna use Playdoe to drive your sex life with single moms.
Howard: I wasn't... anymore.

submitted by Leather-Skirt6600 to bigbangtheory [link] [comments]

2024.05.14 06:28 Salty-Profile4688 THIS REPORT PRESENTS A VERBATIM DIALOGUE AS SPOKEN BY CONVICT’S CONFESSION

I didn’t do it. I didn’! I didn’t! I’m no murderer, no, listen! I will tell you your a killer. You do not believe me? Even for a moment? But little is my own sentence even a concern for me, the freedom in society has little left to offer me. Grief and horror are all that fill my mind, the only residents remaining in my home. And you’d expect it to be such an oppressing grief. But no, no, no…it is much more the horror. It is much more the intense fear, the great disgusting and evil works that wait for me in the dark. The grizzly voice that reassures me of fate in its worst forms. It is here now. Cackling at its maniacal work. I hear it. What are you worth wretch! You’ll burn all your years and infinite more! But forgive me, my anger is difficult to suppress against my enemy. He lingers still. A lover of deception however, would be a fool in his own craft to reveal his intentions. Thus, would be a fool to reveal their own horrid form. Therefore, relinquish some of your repulsion of me, so that you may have at least some possibility of belief in what I say. I understand the situation I’m in, but why should I refrain from telling the truth simply because it is unlikely you will believe me? Especially when you condemn me? Listen then!
I was watching television, and my roommate was out the entirety of this night. My family remained in Los Angeles during this time, so they are not making any affect on what occurred. But you want me to tell of my roommate? I am telling you! You ask about the murderer, so you must listen to all I know of him. It was in the most ordinary of circumstances and activity when such a striking and alarming voice pierced the room. The TV was quiet, and I lounged about with dull mind. When I heard someone call for my name from down the hall, whom which I couldn’t see since the door was closed, I of course simply responded, “Yeah?” This was the very first of the remarkable experiences I began to have. I realized what had just occurred. I was home alone, so who could be calling to me from my own room? Well I suspected then my roommate. But I had trouble reconciling the voice I heard with that of my roommate. It had such an eerie tone to it. Almost as if it were teasing me. Yet, it was such a convincing and deceptive call, that the mocking tone it had was almost imperceivable. As if maybe this creepy inflection was a result of my own nerves or unfamiliarity with the event.
Regardless of it’s true nature, this odd quality roused my attention. Was I indeed not alone? But then it must be my roommate, since it was my name. I could not get over the gross friendly tone it called to me with. It’s as if it was bragging about knowing my name. I froze for a moment with the TV playing, listening for another call. “Javier” a woman's voice called out gently and compassionately. But such disgusting compassion did it call out. It seems it couldn’t itself disguise just the slightest hint of malevolence that just snuck under the tone. Or perhaps it meant to say it how it did. But it terrified me. I reasoned it must be somebody I know. But I couldn’t bear the action of getting up looking around. I was simply frozen, wishing not to move and cause myself to miss out on hearing more by making a racket myself. it didn’t even come from behind the door, it was as if it was somewhere far away. Yet it was so clear and punctual in volume.
This left me more at unease and helpless to find a solution. This time I did not respond. I greatly regretted responding the first time. I only paused the TV and looked about myself anxiously, dreading that something would speak again. After many moments of silence, I compromised to rest from my alert. And as the words spoke drifted deeper into the past, the simple abnormality of them caused them to resist their place in my mind as credibly existing. Though it happened not long ago that same hour, I questioned if I did indeed hear a call out for my name in such a mysterious and ugly tone as I had. This was just before the most morbid of calls occurred. It spoke to my name again, “Would you come, Javier?” But such terror came over me in that delicately rude and friendly tone which it spoke to me in. The suspense and anticipation for the call was intensely surmised to a realization as my heart began a sprint. This voice was not just a woman's, it was my sister. How incredibly unlikely she would be here, unannounced and somehow in my home without my knowledge. I still held intense fear, for you must understand the uncanny sense from this call. It was as if someone was inciting their vocals and tone to imitate or mock a human. It seemed not as if they were doing an impression of my sister—no, for it sounded exactly like my sister—but instead it seemed as if they attempted an impression of a human. Such a perfect quality, yet just so slightly imperfect that I may subconsciously perceive something wasn’t quite genuine in this call. I darted my perceptions across the room wide eyed. I quickly looked about myself, checking behind me multiple times.
Now, the following details not only enhance the unbelievable notions of my current situation, but may in fact completely discredit me in even speaking about them. But you must hear it! I implore you to imagine this! It is the truth—all of what I say is. For the night I heard her—my sister that is—speak to me in my own apartment, was the same night, as I learned weeks later, is the same night she had died. Sophia, that is her name, had killed herself.
Many nights passed like this when I was alone. I was tormented by calls with no direction or location. I shuddered at creepy voices beckoning in the dark. Sometimes, even in daylight, things spoke to me while I was alone. Unrelenting and disturbing voices within my home. Now, you may presume at this moment I am clearly schizophrenic. Indeed, I too had this notion. I seeked a psychiatrist during this time, to which medicine was prescribed and an indefinite period of shipping as well. But I perceived far too many REAL things. Yes, these could be hallucinations, but you couldn’t possibly have that conclusion if you hear what else this has done to me.
It happened after many terrible nights that I heard of my sister’s death. I was very shocked at first. But sadness was not next door, grief did not have time to move in. Instead, a realization taunted and teased my peace. I would hear her tonight, speaking to me. You may not imagine the dread that filled my day. I went to work and back home as a zombie. The tasks and conversations passed me by as dreams. I was incredibly absent and void of presence in my own life. My head spun before it comprehended any purpose of grief and despair. When I returned home I found myself double, triple checking that the lights were on and the blinds shut. Even though these things were clearly in my sight. I also locked doors and called my roommate to make sure he was home. I begged and pleaded with him, but he only brushed me off telling me he can't ditch his shift. I paced back and forth within the rooms pitching the plan to myself to have a hotel room. I eventually settled on this as it brought peace to me. And that night passed, at least before I slept, how I hoped. My sister did not speak to me from the darkness. But woe had not stopped its intention upon me that night.
I managed to fall asleep. In my dreams that night, I was visited with a vivid nightmare. I stood in my childhood home waiting at the door with a bat in my hand, standing between my sister and the entrance. I had this feeling that something bad was going to happen, and that I had to protect her, though nothing in particular was occurring. Then, with a gentle creek, a clawed hand reached and pushed the front door gently open. A demonically horned monstrosity stepped into the room. Its hooves clopped upon the wood floor. I intended to combat it, but my muscles took no command from me, and I swung the bat as if I was in molasses. It lunged with a deep roar to my sister, digging its hands into her stomach and viciously tearing it open with ease. It dug through her chest cavity as a dog digs holes in the dirt, spewing and tossing guts and organs out slashed and mutilated. I stood helpless and disgusted, until it turned towards me. It dropped my sister to the ground like a doll it no longer wanted to play with. It approached and grasped me tightly, growling a deep animalistic anger, its stature looming over me. It took its claw and dug it into its own eye, slicing it and tearing it open. It leaned over me, inches from my face. I screamed in horror. Black blood seeped and dripped from its swollen socket into my mouth. I struggled ferociously but the blood continuously poured from its eye into me.
I awoke sweating in pitch black, feeling Intense fear in myself. As a child that had not had their night light. I was terrified of the thought of something being in the darkness. I knew I was awake, and I was in a hotel in the middle of the night, but my heart started racing in irrational fear. I didn’t even have the courage to lift my head and look about the room to satiate the tormenting curiosity in the mystery of a possible supernatural visitor. But, I did. There was a demon sitting on the chair. A darker than dark silhouette of someone sitting hunched, looking at me. It was a shadow. But I knew, even then, this was a devil. I felt it. The blood in my skin fell away. I was mortified; in absolute terror. I stared unmoving with my heart beating out of my chest at this figure.
I slowly began to hold disdain for it. It did not move, it did not speak. But, I was beginning to be relieved of my fear. Instead, it was replaced with hate. Burning, mean hate. I hated it. No, I abhorred it. I was angry. The most intense rage fell upon me. I stood up from my bed, looking about the darkness. I stomped and clenched my fists. Captured in the most ridiculous delusion of fury, I began yelling and thrashing my room. I broke vases and electronics. I smashed the TV to the ground. I bit and gnawed at the chair leg which the thing sat on. I flipped the mattress and kicked doors off their hinges. I scratched and tore pillows like a feline. I was filled with so much hate and anger. I remained like this until hotel staff came to subdue me. Which, at their arrival, the feeling subsided suddenly.
I now was plagued daily by these voices, and nightly by this demon. The visits were not as dramatic as the first, but still, It watched me from different places in the dark each time. All it did was sit there. Weeks passed like this, I lost tremendous amounts of sleep attending to fruitless solutions and avoidances. Either I slept not a wink the night and evaded my tormentor, save for the voices if I’m alone, or I had to face my tormentor in the midst of night with a bravery I did not possess, awoken by various nightmares or visions designed for me that night.
But this is merely his entrance, I must now speak of the acquaintance he made with me. It was another terrible midnight where I stared at it, in whichever spot it had chose for the night, contemplating the nature of such a gross presence and its effect on me. When, filled with a ridiculous exhaustion and exhasperation, I called out to it, “What do you want!” I saw a slight twitch in its head, which struck me with more surprise than fear, although I had both. “Do you know me?” It spoke in a low and growled voice. It had such a tone of malevolence and mocking speech, it even felt as if it spoke condescendingly, as if I was a child it was reducing to. “No.” I said, my breath failing me. “I knew your sister.” The demon stated with a snicker, which developed into a chuckle, then an intense and hearty laugh. He wailed and howled in laughter even, he sounded insane. Such a disgusting sound it was to hear its voice in the darkness so pleased with itself. It confused and frustrated me in fear greatly, and it became so loud and went on for so long I couldn’t stand it. “Shut up!” I yelled finally. It stopped laughing immediately. “But you know Javier, you know me too.” It spoke very seriously. I stared in bewilderment. “You’re guilty! You’re guilty! You love murder! Haha! You love yourself! You stroke huh?” The demon spoke without relent and enjoyed his own hilarity. “What the fuck?” I said in a trembled whisper. “Yea, you hate clothes, you little pathetic bitch.” It cackled.
I was roused again with the most extreme and unimaginable anger. I yelled my defense at him. He grew in laughter. I screamed any kind of profanity and slur I could think of at his station, and he only grew in volume with me. This went on until I finally arrived at my king accusation, which was finally enough to have it stir, “You’re a failure of creation!” He was silent for a moment. “What is it you know of creation?” It spoke with such a terrible and tremendous tone. “Are you worth any more than me? You’re subject to death the same. I’m a connoisseur of freedoms, yet, what are you? You are a slave of fear, scared of your own desires. And, even more so, subject to me.. As much as a mouse loses its life to the metal spring when it grabs cheese, so do you spoil by me.” “You speak nonsense!” I retorted “You’re very stupid, it’s difficult for you to grasp.”
Then, without much more deliberation, it simply began roaring with the most horrific and inhumane noises. It began screeching—it screeched with blood curdling yells and sorrow. It screamed as if it was lit on fire. At once, in the shadows, it began clawing at its own face. I heard sounds of ripping and tearing—with noises as if pounds of deli meat were slammed onto the cutting board. This was accompanied by an intense and putrid smell of rot, and I began weeping. This experience was more than I could bare, and I couldn’t describe to u what was unnaturally filled in my mind. This night felt as if i was never going to escape the moment, like the present moment was my eternity. This sight annoyed me to my soul for what seemed like hours, and I even conjectured to myself that this torture was eternal.
But soon, he did indeed cease. A gentle glow of orange illuminated the end of my bed. He stood before me, tall and with elegance in the light. He was skinned, his jaw dislocated, his face scratched bare and raw so that no features were pertruding. He was completely nude, with hooves and fur patches among his disfigured appearances. He wore this boldly with shame, yet, overcame it with overwhelming pride.
Such beauty it was to admire his stature. I could not help but gaze with wonder and pleasure. I must have admired him for a while, perhaps even hours. I became mad with lust for him, such a delicious sight he was! I should give up my other fruitless endeavors of life if I could just have the delight to taste him.
But just as I settled on my prospective bliss, my roommate entered the room. His yell of terror attacked my ears, interrupting us. Why scream? Why that hideous look on his face? What was he so scared of? What possessed him to be worthy of beholding any sort of indignation upon my beautiful companion? A little worm—that ugly little leech that dared breath the same air as us. “Get rid of it.” The demon told me, but I hardly needed a command to conceive of my goal.
Oh, what fun I had! It was like the first fresh sip of lemonade on a summer day! Like the sunshine that seeps through window seals—like the birds chirping in the dewy mornings. Like the adrenaline of a rollercoaster—the tickle of a drop. Like the intoxication that gives you belief of so much confidence. And to feel it on my hands? It was the joy of a child when he smashes his fingers into the moist sand—that innocent satisfaction of destroying a castle. Like the excitement of opening your favorite bag of chips—grabbing the ends and pulling the plastic with might until bursts open with goodies; yes, that’s what it was like for me to stick my thumbs deep into his eye sockets, and pull to open—if only I could. It was such, as when I bit down on his throat with all my might and sipped. It was indeed so, when I scratched and clawed till my nails came off, opening his chest and pulling at ribs like discarded hot wings, ripping at organs and intestines, pulling of nails, bending fingers two loops around, snapping his arms, smashing his head with my foot—but again my happiness was destroyed. For my companion had fled the scene, and he was no longer present. At once, I recovered some coherence and realized the tragedy of what I had done. How would I hide this? How could I discard of blood evidence all over me? How was he going to chip in on rent in this condition? I obviously had not calculated all the required considerations before doing such a thing. I was enraged by the black magic possessed by the demon, stupid, tricky, evil thing. So you see, it was his fault.

submitted by Salty-Profile4688 to nosleep [link] [comments]

2024.05.14 03:14 ChrisChris10-l Two Months Later

https://www.reddit.com/GriefSupport/comments/1bykm11/anaia/
https://www.reddit.com/GriefSupport/comments/1bxzqi4/siste
About a month ago, I posted two separate posts on this subreddit about my younger sister, Anaia, who passed away on March 17th, 2024. In one post I gave photos, and in the other I wrote about her addiction, but I don't think I've really talked about myself.
It has been nearly two months since my little sister passed away, and I wouldn't describe it as grueling or depressing, just unusual. On April 22nd, it was confirmed to my family that Anaia died as a result of fentanyl toxicity, which was the reason I always assumed but to have it confirmed was very depressing. Yesterday, I went to my grandmother's house and there were a few copies of Anaia's death certificate, in the onset interval to death section, I said minutes. When talking to my mother (me and my parents talk all the time, my dad sits in my room and plays games while we talk about Anaia or something random, and me and my mother will talk about random things as well as Anaia too.), she told me her perspective of that morning. Long story short, around 11:45AM, I woke up to my mother screaming my sister's name and she soon realized she was unresponsive, me and my father woke up soon after and I called 911, and that's the short version. I assumed my sister was in her covers sleeping and fentanyl overrid her system, but no, my mom told me that when she walked into Anaia's room, she was laid flat out on top of all of her covers, arms outstretched to the side. Learning that was a major shock to me, and I'll explain why.
Sure, Anaia's death was nearly instant. But hearing the details of what my mom said really drove him that once it happened, it didn't matter whether we went into there at the right time or later, there was likely nothing that could've been done. From my understanding, it was almost as if she was up one second and collapsed the next. There was dried vomit on clothes next to her bed, making me assume that after vomiting, she just collapsed instantly after and died. After calling 911, my mother demanded out of fear for me to help her perform CPR, and I didn't hesitate to do so. But, anyone in that situation could tell, with no details given, that there was nothing that could've been done. The typical signs of a deceased body were very present, and even I (doing the mouth resuscitation) knew that if I felt no air coming back onto me, and touching her neck didn't give a pulse, I quickly understood that this was it, like there was nothing me or my parents could've done. When the paramedics arrived at 12 exactly, it took them a minute or two for them to tell us that there was nothing to be done, and ultimately, Anaia had died long, long before we got to her. They said roughly 6-8 hours, meaning at the earliest 3am, and at the latest 5am. It's a disheartening fact for him, and even my father expressed to me too a few nights ago, but we wished that at least there was a chance for us to get to her beforehand. Maybe if he and I or my mom went into her room for no real reason in the middle of the night, we would've been able to save her. What really struck me when my dad was telling me that was him acknowledging that while he and my mom were watching TV, he couldn't bare to imagine that simultaneously Anaia was dying. I felt the same way, I was awake around 3-3:30AM, and if she died during that time, I was totally unaware scrolling through my phone.
I wish that there was something to be done. During her time alive, and when she started doing street dealt percocets, I warned her about fentanyl, and ultimately I wish she had heeded my warning and stayed off them when she did quit in December. I'm a sociable person, and I'm one of those people that have a wide different variety of groups and friends I hang out with, and I may not be in extracurricular activities but even those that are popular in my school know me. As a result of being so sociable, I know people that do drugs, and only a set few who do percocets, one of my closest friends used to be a heavy percocet user and I used to tell her as much as I did my sister to quit. My friend and my sister quit, but one returned and one didn't. One is still here, and one is not. It doesn't matter how many people I told not to do percocets, of course I would've wanted my sister to be the one to really listen to me. But ultimately, the person I wanted to save the most didn't make it. I've saved others, but with my sister, it almost made my words feel like nothing after she died. No matter however many times I told her to please find something less dangerous and more beneficial, to not risk her life, she kept using and lost her life. Said friend and two other friends of my sister (I know both of them) were also at some point active percocet users, and they told me that they felt it like it should've been them, seeing my mother made them see that that could've been their parents, their siblings, their friends and relatives, etc. I told them bluntly that it in fact could've been them in Anaia's position, I told them that just because Anaia's clock stopping running doesn't mean there's has to, they can avoid being in her position. Then it got me thinking, there's plenty of other people who overdose on purpose, who overdose 9 times, who overdose and suffer long term effects like paralyzation, but still remain. Anaia overdosed once, and that was the final time. I believe in God and Jesus but I'm not a preacher, I believe and keep it pushing but I'm not religiously based. I believe in the concept of everyone having a time and a date, but sometimes I find myself questioning that if that's the case, are we just here to live a predetermined fate that we have no control over? At the end of the day, was I meant to go through this? Thinking like that plagues my mind, but I settle for it being her time to go, as seeing other drug users made me wonder what they may be here to prove on earth that Anaia could not. I don't like questioning others' lives and why they get to live longer, that's not me, and I'm glad they've been granted more chances, it just sucks my sister wasn't granted that chance in the grand scheme of things. Predetermined or not, there was so much she could've lived for, but I believe there's a reason time can't be reversed, and there's many unexplained miracles that somehow eases me into thinking that I shouldn't throw myself into a hole of questioning why she didn't get a chance, and just accepting that her race ended earlier than mine. I believe things happen for a reason, it's an insensitive statement depending on the situation, but things happen for people to learn and grow from them, but no one really knows why. I've just had to come to the conclusion hat my sister is okay, she's safe, and I have no reason to continue to question her life and worry about her if she's not here with me anymore, you feel?
From a brother perspective, it sucks. It feels somewhat lonely, to live and breathe as an only child. I've become accustomed to being an older brother to a younger sister, but I turned 16 without her, and that's how it'll be for the rest of my life. At her visitation on March 30th, I didn't cry, but seeing her body just made me shake my head. She looked very nice, the funeral home did an amazing job, but it hit me that this was really her. There were distinct things I saw that she had in life that made me come to that conclusion that that was what was left my little sister, and at the funeral + burial the next day, watching her being lowered into the ground left my head empty. No thoughts, she watching as her casket covered in a white sheet was lowered into the ground, and that'd be it. I grew up with this person, and now I have to look down on this person and go through life without this amazing person. I never imagine something like this happening, especially not like this. I always wanted to die first because I was older, a thought I feared ever since I was a child. That didn't get to happen, and milestones man. She'll never get to graduate the year after me, never get to have that lovely relationship with that special one that she always wanted, she never got to be an aunt, a mom, nothing. One day, I hope to have children and I will tell them about Anaia, but do I wish they'd have been able to meet her if that time came. Everyday, I walk past her room, sometimes I go in there and sometimes I don't. Two weeks after her death, her mattress was taken out by me and my dad's friend, up until a few weeks ago, her room was left scattered the way it was when she died minus the mattress, and now, everything has been cleaned up. It's empty, and the emptiness is another reality check. I'll never see Anaia again, and in the potential next life I believe I will, but the fact I can't now is a hard concept to grasp. No more walking to the bus stop, no more barging into her room or vice versa, no more waiting forever for her to complete her makeup, no more random room hangouts, no more of her asking me to flash a light for her Instagram pictures for an excruciating ten minutes, none of them. Her physical presence is gone, I come home everyday and instantly the thought of her being gone hits me. Riding in the car with my parents, being at school, going out, it doesn't feel the same knowing in the back of my head she's gone, no matter how much fun I have. Regardless, I've returned to normal life, matter of fact, I started going to school every day instantly after the funeral, and during the two weeks of March 17th-March 31st, I showed up to school here and there. It didn't take a toll to do so, because I've accepted that though Anaia died, I'm still alive? I don't stop when she does, that'll have more of an effect. Life still goes on, time doesn't stop for no one no matter how much I may want it to. I honestly sit my current happiness at like a 6.5-7, higher than one may expect. I still have my parents, my friends, and all of my relatives, an important chunk is just missing but I still have my people. I only feel alone in the sibling aspect, but in reality, people make me happy everyday and still continue to. I joke how I've always joked, people have said I look much better than how I did initially, there's notable sadness on my face, but I look happier. If that's true, then I hope it stays that way. I still go out to these afterschool events, outside friend hangous, they bring joy. I just miss my sister 25/8, but I've learned to appreciate life just a little bit more now. If she's okay, I'm okay.
Lastly, I wanted to mention dreams. People say they have dreams of deceased loved ones all the time, I personally haven't yet, would like to, but until then that hasn't been the case. I'm not talking dreams with the person in them, I mean direct communication dreams. My mother has had two, my dad's friend has had one, and my close friend mentioned earlier has had one, but the one that sticks out the most is my little cousin's dream. My mom has a younger sister herself and in 2018, she had her first child, his nickname is JP. During 2021-2022, me and Anaia lived with my grandmother due to losing our apartment (our parents stayed separately at a grouphome my dad worked at, they work for my grandmother's company), and my aunt as well as JP stayed with my grandma. JP essentially became me and Anaia's little brother that we didn't have, and vice versa for him, he sees me and Anaia has his older siblings. Seeing him seem so heartbroken after Anaia died was very sad, as you can see written on this five-year-old's face that Anaia was someone who truly mattered to him and he was so sad about it. However, in his dream, Anaia came to him and told him she loved all of us, that she regretted not seeing him grow older, and that what happened to her was an accident. The part that got me was that Anaia told him that where she was was beautiful, he asked to see it, and she told him he couldn't see it yet. Kids just don't make things like that up in my opinion, and he worded it very detailed for a kindergartener, and JP is at the age where his words don't conflict with other things he's said, he's consistent with it and he tells me the same thing he told me the first time when I ask him here and then. He can see it one day, but he can't see it, not yet. What that tells me is that if life is so hard, death must be so beautiful afterwards, and that there is an afterlife. Even if I believed in a separate religion, or if my current religion isn't the truth, I will always believe in an afterlife. I refuse to believe that this world is it, and kids just don't pull stuff out their butt in a serious situation. I believe him. If that's the case, then I'll gladly wait. It doesn't matter how many people die during my lifetime, whatever remains of it, and how many new people I might meet in my life. If my hope of living to elder age and I meet someone and create a family, and even if said wife and or children die before me if that plan does happen, there's only one person I wish to greet me. I hear that people see a loved one before they die, and I hope Anaia is the one that comes to see me when it's all over. Forever, no matter who else passes before me, Anaia's will stay the worst, the most impactful, and that's a strong statement to make but I'm sure of that. I have plenty of goals I have for myself, but my end goal once the others are done is to get past 70, pass peacefully, and have my sister wait for me there. I hope that wouldn't be much to ask for.
That's it.

submitted by ChrisChris10-l to GriefSupport [link] [comments]

2024.05.14 01:35 TheLastRiter I never should have gone to this farmhouse alone. [Part 1]

My hands are shaking as I write this, I have to document my story incase something happens to me in the next few days. I'm not sure where to begin but I suppose here is better than anywhere.
I've always had this weird feeling, this sensation inside of me that I was older than I actually was. By the time I was twelve, my soul felt as though it was forty. By the time I reached twenty, I felt like an old woman. I would watch people around my age acting foolish, and I always thought, "What a bunch of children." So it was no surprise to anyone that when I turned twenty-one, I left my hometown and college and decided to spend the summer alone by renting an old farmhouse in an insignificant town on the edge of an even more insignificant border.
When I told my mother, she had a veritable fit, unable to find the words. She spluttered and raged around me for days before I finally left early one morning to avoid her guilt and frustration with my choices. I was not sure why I craved solitude at such a young age, why I found solace in being alone and removed from society.
In high school, I had changed unexpectedly, cutting my long blonde hair short and dying it black, getting piercings that my mother loathed and claimed no young lady should have. You see, my mother was raised proper, as she called it. Good family, good husband, and finally a good life. She despised her perfect life being squashed by my alternative looks and feelings of the same world. She just didn't understand me or the world as it changed around her. I felt like I was just a trophy to her and my father, her perfect angel who had been tainted by my own demented thoughts.
I never told my parents where I was staying, one last rebellious mission before leaving for a few months, and it took me only a few hours to arrive at the farmhouse where I would be staying for the next few months. The land around the farm was dead or dying, old crops rose out of the dry dusty earth and had turned black and forgotten, as if this land was the example of dreams long forgotten and empty. A single dreary lane connected this desolate farmhouse to the rest of the world. On the outside, it was drab and looked as though it would fall apart. It had two stories but still seemed cramped and small, as if it were a single floor tied to the ground.
Across from the house, bordering the tall weeds that had reclaimed much of the farmland, stood a maudlin-looking faded red barn, one door propped open in a dejected manner revealing naught to me but shadows, dust, and a little mystery.
Next to the barn, staked into the ground on an old-looking cross, was a ragged scarecrow. It had drab brown clothing, but its face was oddly realistic, like it was watching me with a disapproving manner. Straw poked through its joints at odd angles like they were trying to break free from their confines. The scarecrow obviously didn't do its job as it was covered in no less than three crows.
I parked my car next to the barn and stepped out into the dusty yard before the farmhouse that I would make my home for the next few months. I checked under the front mat for the key and put it in the lock.
With a satisfying click, the door fell inward into the farmhouse. Surprisingly, the inside of the farmhouse was modern, clean, and looked quite inviting. I could smell the fresh paint on the walls, and everything was so white. The realtor had told me she would stop by tomorrow to collect the rent, and she had tried to chat my ear off on the phone about all the renovations she and her son were doing on the place.
I sighed with contentment and tossed my bags beside the door. I dug around in my bag and removed my camera, my father's old film shooter as he called it. I had taken up the hobby years ago for what I called capturing the oddity in the world.
I explored the small house a little more; the ground floor consisted of a single room and small bathroom with a shower. The bedroom was upstairs and was the only room, the stairs connected directly to the white and pink monstrosity that was the master bedroom. The pillows had laces on them and almost made me gag from the cuteness. There was even cute white lace curtains on the window with little flowers stitched onto them.
Out of the only window of the room, I could see the barn and the scarecrow. I aimed my camera at the pair and snapped a photo. From this angle, the scarecrow appeared to be staring straight at me. It stood next to the left side of the barn in a dejected manner like a chastised child.
A shudder involuntarily ran through me at the sight, but I moved on back downstairs. It was getting close to dinner time now, and I had brought some food with me.
After a few minutes, I had my dinner on the stove cooking and the crickets chirping outside the open window. As I sat down to eat next to the window, I felt at peace for one of the first times in years. The solitude of this old farm was exactly what I needed. The window supplied a nice breeze that wafted through the place, it smelled of grass and warm summer nights, made me feel at peace. The simple dish of spaghetti with tomato sauce and a glass of wine was all that I needed right here, right now in this moment.
That night I climbed into the frilly laced bed and sunk into the claustrophobic mattress. I felt like Goldilocks in the mama bear's bed as it was altogether too soft. From my perfumed bed, I had a good view out the window. I had left the porch light on, and it cast an eerie glow across the yard. The barn loomed ominously, stalwart against the light of the porch, like it was protecting the shadows from the battering ram of light. The somber scarecrow leaned against the left side of the barn.
With a small jump, I thought I saw its arm move slightly. I peered through my camera using the zoom to get a better view of the scarecrow. It was completely still in the night, and I laughed quietly to myself at my silliness. I had always enjoyed horror movies, but there was no chance I was living in one. I settled back into bed and put my camera down. Within a few minutes, I fell into sleep's warm embrace.
What felt like only a few minutes later, I sat up in bed. It was still dark out, I could hear crickets chirping through the open window, and I strained my ears for a moment.
I thought something had woken me up. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as a cold breeze wafted in through the window. I pulled the frilly blanket up around myself when I heard it. A thud sounded below me, shaking the whole world into silence. The crickets stopped chirping, and my heart felt like it had stopped beating. Someone was in the house. I hadn't locked the door or closed the kitchen window, and now someone was downstairs. A second thud sounded like a boot on the staircase. Then another and another as something was slowly moving up the stairs towards the room.
I don't know why I did it, but something came over me. I wasn't big or especially brave, but my normal cowardice in social situations changed instantly. With a dash, I tore across the room, flicking on the lights, ready to face my attacker, to defend myself against male or female. I would fight, and I would win.
But as the lights turned on, ready to strike with my foot, nothing was there. The staircase was empty, and upon further inspection, the entire house was empty. The kitchen window was open, and I shut and locked it securely before checking the door. Nothing. I sat down on the couch, my heart pounding out of my chest, as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.
"I must have still been half-asleep," I said aloud to the room in a thinly veiled attempt to calm my nerves. It failed horribly, but I went with it. What else could you do in a situation like that?
After locking up the house, I went back up to that frilly four-poster bed in the bedroom and stared out the window. Nothing was in the yard except my car, the barn, and the same old sad-looking scarecrow staring across the yard.
Day 2
The next morning, I woke up to the soft light filtering through the lace curtains. Despite the strange events of the previous night, I felt strangely refreshed, as if the morning sun had chased away the shadows that lingered in my mind.
I descended the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly under my weight, and headed to the kitchen. As I brewed a pot of coffee, my mind wandered back to the events of last night. Was it just a figment of my imagination, or was there really someone in the house?
Shaking off the unease, I decided to explore the farmhouse in the daylight. I wandered through the room, admiring the modern renovations that clashed with the rustic exterior. The farmhouse had a charm to it, despite its eerie surroundings.
As I made my way outside, the cool morning air greeted me, and I took a deep breath, letting the serenity of the countryside wash over me. The barn stood tall against the backdrop of the morning sky, and the scarecrow seemed to watch me as I crossed the yard.
I approached the barn, curiosity getting the better of me. Pushing open the creaky door, I stepped inside, the musty scent of hay filling my nostrils. The interior was dimly lit, the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the wooden walls.
I explored every nook and cranny of the barn, but found nothing out of the ordinary. As I turned to leave, something caught my eye. In the corner of the barn, hidden beneath a pile of old blankets, was a small wooden chest.
My heart racing with anticipation, I lifted the lid of the trunk and peered inside. What I found took my breath away. It was a collection of old photographs, yellowed with age, depicting scenes from a bygone era. They were of a man with his family, two young kids, and a beautiful young wife. The man had yellow blonde hair, almost like straw in texture, but he smiled so happily with his family.
I sifted through the photographs, my fingers trembling with excitement. Who had left these behind, and why? Each photograph seemed to tell a story, a glimpse into the past of this forgotten farmhouse.
As I sat there, lost in thought, a sudden noise jolted me back to reality. It was the sound of footsteps coming from outside the barn.
"Hello?" The dreamy voice of a woman called to me from the entrance to the barn.
I slammed the lid of the trunk shut, closing the memories up in a flurry as I spun around to be greeted by a quite pretty woman with blonde hair and a pink suit skirt combo. She had bright pink lipstick, that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face, and quite shiny and sparkly blue eye shadow on her lids. I myself only wore black eyeliner. This woman was like Barbie in her proportions, thin waist, long hair, and large tracts of land, as my father would have said.
"Oh, hello," I said simply, always awkward in normal social situations.
If she noticed anything odd about me, she breezed over it in an easy manner. Taking me by the shoulders, she led me out of the dusty barn and into the yard.
"You must be Polly. We have been waiting a while for you to come. I simply must know what you think of the renovations to the house. Aren’t they just to die for?" The lady said all in one breath, as if she didn’t need air to speak.
"Yes, they are quite nice..." I started before she cut me off, not in a rude manner but instead in one that she would have continued on even if I had just told her I was not Polly and instead I was a mass murderer looking for my next victim.
"You see, me and my son Eli—yes, Eli, you stop lurking in the shadows over there," she said, continuing on as I noticed a younger man leaning up against the barn. He wore simple clothes of jeans and a white t-shirt but had a handsome face. His hair was brown and hung slightly over his eyes.
"I hope you don’t mind if my son here continues working on some renovations while you stay here? Strictly on the outside of the house, mind you. A fresh coat of white paint would make this little beauty shine. We would have finished by now if not for the accidents," she continued, completely unabashed by my silence.
"Sorry. But you are the realtor?" I said, trying to regain my feet under me.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry, dear!" she said with an affable cackle.
"Yes, yes, I am Barbara, but all my friends call me Barb. That over there is Eli. Eli, come say hi," Barb said while her painted talons rested firmly on my shoulder.
Eli stomped over, keeping his eyes low, in a sort of moody way that actually intrigued me, sort of.
When he glanced up at me, I noticed he drank in me from head to toe, and for the first time, I realized what I was wearing. An old rock t-shirt of one of my favorite bands and, of all things, my black pajama bottoms with cartoon bats on them that said "happy halloween."
I felt my face blush crimson as he made eye contact with me. He had very mysterious eyes of blue that seemed to cut right through my soul.
"Nice shirt," he said while gesturing to me. His voice was quiet and uncertain, as if he didn’t get much practice with the art. Knowing his mother, it seemed highly accurate.
"Thanks. Do you like them?" I asked.
"Oh, he likes all sorts of things, don’t you, Eli? Honestly, you two can gab on forever. But miss, I believe we have a small matter of payment," Barb said, drawing the conversation back to herself.
"Of course. Let me go get it," I said as I went back into the house and retrieved the envelope with the rent money in it.
Barb grabbed the envelope in her bright pink talons and snapped a piece of bubblegum between her teeth. With quick fingers, she leafed through the cash, counting it. As she counted, her normal bubbly personality seemed to disappear, giving way to what I gleaned was her true thoughts and feelings before the facade slipped on once again.
"Mmkay, perfect honey, this is the right amount. Now you have my number, so you call if you need anything. Like I said earlier, Eli will stop by from time to time to work on painting the house. I promise you he won’t be an imposition, just pay him no mind," Barb said in a sweet voice as she popped her gum in between each word.
"Eli, come on, please, I have an appointment in town," Barb said to her son, and they both climbed into a garish pink convertible with jewels hanging from the mirror wrapped in a gold chain.
Barb waved one last time as she sped off out of the driveway, covering me in dust as she spun the wheel around.
With their departure, I went inside and retrieved my camera. I spent a few minutes shooting a few pictures I thought were worthy. I re-entered the barn and pulled the old trunk out into the sunshine. Inside was only a handful of photos, some old clothes, and what looked like some old heirlooms. A beautifully old candlestick and a few leather-bound books lay at the bottom, covered by an old tablecloth. The tablecloth was a nice white with intricate swirling patterns inlaid around the edges.
Why would these things be packed away in here? They were so beautiful. I decided to bring the stuff inside for further inspection. As I lifted the trunk, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something move in the tall grass at the edge of the property. I stared for a minute, but nothing moved again. I must be getting jumpy being alone like this. After last night and then this, I was just imagining things.
I brought the items inside and spread them out. I put the tablecloth on the table, and it hung low to the ground. I placed the candlestick by the window and took out the photos again, spreading them out.
The photos told me a story of a loving family that obviously lived in the farmhouse before me. They had a photo next to the barn, with a brand new looking scarecrow in the back. The man even had his arm around it; it looked so much cleaner and proper in this photo. I stared outside at the sad-looking scarecrow.
I took my camera and the photo and went outside to stand next to the scarecrow. His post hung kind of crooked in the earth like it was weighed down by the scarecrow.
I snapped a photo of the scarecrow as it was, then examined the original photo. I began resettling the post in the ground, but it kept sagging. I decided to pull him out of the ground and move him while I added more dirt to his hole. With some effort, I reseated him into his original hole. He already looked better, but I straightened his clothes and pulled out the last bits of straw that stuck out of his clothes. When I was finished, I looked back at him and took a photo, smiling while I did so at my work.
I then spent some time sweeping the front porch and banging the dust out of the cushions before I curled up on a wicker chair with plump cushions for a few hours reading a book I had brought with me.
I felt quite content at this place. The sounds of the crickets began again, putting me at ease as the sun began to descend. I had spent the entire day just relaxing, and it was perfect. I sat sprawled out in the chair, too lazy to go and make dinner or even move. My bladder was full, but I waited until the last moment before dashing inside and relieving myself.
That's when I noticed it, out in the yard. It seemed as if the scarecrow had moved closer. Once shrouded by the barn slightly, it now had moved a few steps into the light from the porch. My heart dropped at the sight. Not again, I must be asleep on the porch in the chair. I pinched myself, trying to wake up, but all I received was a sore arm.
I closed my eyes, then rubbed them, hoping to dispel whatever plagued my mind, but when I opened my eyes, I noticed the scarecrow was even closer. Halfway across the yard now, it sat menacingly, hanging crooked in the dirt. The scarecrow seemed to be staring at me with an intense gaze. The slits in its face were open now, and in the porch light, I swear I could see human eyes underneath the mask.
I moved towards the front door, locking it in a swift motion. I was shaking now, and it took me a minute to relax. I never took my eyes off the scarecrow for fear of it moving again.
My cellphone was upstairs, so I couldn't flee without the scarecrow moving again. I breathed out slightly and unlocked the door, letting it swing in with a creak. The night outside was silent, as if everything was holding its breath. The usual crickets that plagued me with their song day and night had fallen quiet. I stepped out onto the porch; I needed to go confront this demonic entity. Something about this still made me think this was a prank.
"Eli, is that you?" I called out to the scarecrow.
No response, of course. I steeled myself and put one foot off the porch, never taking my eyes off the scarecrow before me. Something seemed to be dripping from its head as I approached, a dark slime that seemed to be melting from its joints as it stood there silently, except for the constant drip of the liquid on the dry dirt before me.
I walked around the scarecrow, determined to figure out what was going on. As I circled it, my vision darkened for a moment as I faced towards the light of the house. I jumped as the scarecrow's head turned to face me as I looked away. The black liquid drained faster from the being, forming a shallow pool at its feet.
I'm not proud of what I did next, but I fled, taking my eyes off the scarecrow. I made a mad dash for the farmhouse. Behind me, I could hear the pounding of feet. I screamed as loud as my lungs would let me. My voice rang through the silence as I grabbed the door handle and wrenched open the door as I felt a strong grip fall on my shoulder.
I turned to defend myself, but nothing was there. The scarecrow was gone, the wooden cross had vanished, as had the pool of dark liquid in the dirt. The world sprung back to life; the crickets began chirping loudly, and my heart restarted. I slammed the door, and the air from my force scattered the photographs on the table. I ran upstairs, leaving the lights on in the house, and dove onto the bed, wrapping myself in the frilly blanket like a set of frilly armor.
I snatched my camera from the bedside table and held it close, determined to document the rest of the night. I held it in shaking hands as the noise downstairs began—the sound of boots crossing the floor to the stairs and the careful but heavy steps of ascension as they climbed closer and closer to me.
This time, I didn't lunge forward as the light was already on. I glanced out the window, but the scarecrow was still gone. I focused my camera on the stairs and waited as the steps came closer and closer. A shape began to form as the head of whatever was coming up the stairs crested the floor. Then a plain brown mask with slits where the eyes would be. It froze for a moment, then slowly turned its head towards me. Inside the slits were human eyes that seemed to be leaking dark red blood.
In the light, I could see it now. I snapped a photo of the beast, the flash setting off a reaction in the beast. The scarecrow moved so fast up the stairs it was a blur. My scream echoed throughout the house as it lunged at me. Filthy hands pinned me down, and the deep crimson liquid began pouring out of every joint of the scarecrow. It began covering my face, my eyes, and getting into my open mouth. I spluttered and kicked at the beast, but my blows had no purchase, as if the scarecrow on top of me had no substance to itself.
I coughed and spluttered on the liquid as it began to fill my mouth faster and faster. I tried not to swallow any, but it tried to find purchase as I was held down.
"Polly?" A nervous voice called from below.
Suddenly, as if the angels had called, the pressure dissipated, and I crashed to the floor in a heap, trying to spit the blood out, but nothing came—it was gone. Footsteps pounded up the stairs again, and I flew back in fear, closing my eyes.
"Oh my god. Polly, are you okay?" A voice said, and gentle hands grabbed my arm.
My eyes shot open at the human touch, and I grabbed Eli into a tight hug, where I promptly began sobbing in fear, my whole body shaking as Eli awkwardly hugged me.
"Don't worry, it's going to be okay," Eli said patiently to me as he hugged me back gently and began stroking my back.
I shivered in a choking sob and fell into his arms, desperately wanting to believe him, and for some reason, I did.

submitted by TheLastRiter to nosleep [link] [comments]

2024.05.13 23:52 Tricky-Bit-1865 Best version I’ve ever found of Umbridge’s arrest and trial

Aurors blasted their way into Umbridge's house and found her hiding in a small, hidden room by using the spell Homenum Revelio.
She was surrounded by dozens of plates featuring cats and had rows of neatly stacked tins of cat food, which she appeared to have been eating for sustenance. In the corner of the room was a litter box. Oddly enough, however, there were no actual cats to be found.
The Aurors quickly disarmed her, magically bound her, and hauled her off to the Ministry of Magic to be placed in a holding cell until she could be arraigned.
Two days later, she was brought before the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shackelbolt, looking slightly unkempt and tired. The entire Wizengamot, which had been noticeably thinned out since Shacklebolt had removed several members for their own crimes and/or bribery, was also in attendance.
She looked around the room and tried to find somebody who could be either an ally or someone to whom she could shift the focus, and therefore, possibly, the blame. Finding no one to fit such a criteria, she fixed her face into a contrite image and looked around at the people who were there and pled for mercy. When it became apparent that mercy was in very short supply for those in her position, she immediately claimed to have been under the Imperius Curse.
In an instant, Minister Shacklebolt's composed disposition shifted from being reserved to completely unfriendly. In a short, clipped tone, completely opposite of his typical warm, soothing, deep voice, he gave her the option to either take Veritaserum right then and there or she could go for a psychological evaluation, which was to be conducted at the Janus Thicky Ward at St. Mungo's.
Umbridge balked at the thought of being stuck in "lunatic land". That was, of course, until the Minister mentioned that being stuck under the Imperius Curse for such a prolonged time, as she was claiming, could have some serious effects on her mind. She quickly decided to keep up her pretenses and immediately agreed that she should "at least be checked out by a professional healer."
Shacklebolt issued a two week recess for the Wizengamot in relation to her case. She began to argue the time frame when he gave her a sharp look and she furiously shut her mouth. He reiterated the two week time frame and continued on to say that when they reconvened, they would hear the Healer's testimony regarding her claims and mental status.
Two Aurors, Savage and Williamson, had taken post on either side of her. Savage held her by her left arm while Williamson pulled out a white handkerchief. He secured her right hand in his and then Savage took hold of the other end of the handkerchief. As soon as he did, the portkey activated and deposited the three of them into a secure room in the Janus Thickey Ward.
After a brief intake, Healer Ashborn entered the room to remove the newest resident's personal clothing and effects and to have her put on hospital issued clothes, which were a drab, dingy grey colour. Umbridge pinched the material between her forefinger and thumb before raising it up to eye level and informing the Healer that she refused to put on something so colorless and disgusting. Healer Ashborn donned a nonchalant smirk and informed her that if it was not done willingly and swiftly that she would have no other choice but to Evanesco her personal belongings to the hospital rubbish bin and charm the hospital clothes on with a sticking spell for good measure.
Less than 2 minutes later, she was dressed and being escorted by the Aurors to her bed, which was surrounded by silver framed dividers with pale blue cloth to block the view of the neighboring beds.
As the Aurors turned their attention to make some notes on their paperwork, Umbridge made a sickly sweet noise as she cleared her throat. "Hem-hem. Am I not being given a private room?" She let out a childish giggle.
The Aurors looked at her incredulously, then at each other. Finally, Auror Savage spoke up, "Private rooms are not given to possible war criminals."
Scowling, Umbridge scoffed loudly and said, "Well, I never! I will be writing a letter to the Minister of Magic about this."
Auror Williamson spoke up then, "You think we don't take our orders from the Minister regarding this? You writing a letter won't change anything."
"How dare you! I am Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister -"
"Not anymore, you're not " Auror Savage said coldly, effectively cutting her off. "You are a person on trial for war crimes and a provisional resident of the Janus Thicky Ward due to your claim of being cursed. Now, you have been magically bound to be within 5 feet of your bed, meals will be brought to you, and a member of the staff will escort you to the lavatory. You are not permitted to have a wand and that cuff on your wrist is a magic binder. Since we have completed our duties, we shall now take our leave. The Chief Healer will see you tomorrow morning. Good day, Ms. Umbridge."
She pointed a finger at them while trying to maintain her calm and hissed "Now see here. You cannot just leave me here with all these crazy people, especially while bound with no magic." Her right eye twitched.
Auror Williamson raised his eyebrow at her while he took out the white handkerchief. He held it out to his partner, and, after Savage had taken hold, he activated the portkey without saying another word and they disappeared.
Umbridge sat down onto the rather thin mattress and listened as the springs shrieked as though in agony.
Well, at least I'll be using a real toilet instead of that litterbox, she thought to herself. This will be like a nice vacation. I can order my favorite meals and have some nice wine while I relax.
At that moment, Gilderoy Lockhart popped his head around the partition. "Hello," he said with a big smile and in his shmooziest of voices. "I see you're new. Nice bracelet...." he trailed off for a moment. Coming back around, he added, "Don't mind the bed. They all shriek a bit. Well, not mine, of course. I just had to smile at it a couple of times, aheh. Now it sings to me."
She narrowed her eyes while feeling even more flustered than before. "Why are you here," she spat.
"What a stupendous question. Eh...," he started but clearly began to mentally wander again.
"Can't you manage a simple straight answer," she snapped.
"Well, you see... I simply can't remember." He let out a light chuckle and pulled his eyebrows slightly together while pasting on his best grin. Why not? After all, it worked for his bed.
"Yes, well, be sure to maintain your distance. I won't have you loitering about my space. Move along." She waved him off.
She promptly learned that her stay was going to be nothing like a vacation; no favorite meals, no wine, and certainly no relaxing.
As the days wore on, Lockhart managed to finagle his way into her area for most of the day - everyday. One day he was particularly on her nerves after having rambled on and on about a dream of a very large snake and falling rocks.
Umbridge, losing control of the situation with such an utter nitwit, suddenly burst out in her annoyance. "Enough, Mr. Lockhart!" Later that day, she ended up scratching herself nearly raw due to a mild case of hives.
As hard as she tried to keep her sanity about her, he just seemed to suck it away from her. It was almost as though the more insane she felt, the saner he seemed. Could it be that he had devised a way to steal her sanity and replace it with his insanity? She became more and more leery of him as the days went by until, at one point, a near frantic paranoia set in. She spent the rest of that day completely sedated.
She begged the staff to be moved, but Cheif Healer Pye said they could not due to the restrictions placed by the Auror Department. She ordered for Lockhart to be switched to a different location. In that instance, Healer Pye said that he would not as it could disrupt Mr. Lockhart's frame of mind and treatment, causing him to relapse. She pulled her hair, stomped her feet like a petulant child, and screamed until she was Silenced and magically bound to the bed to keep her from hurting herself.
At the end of the two weeks, Umbridge found herself magically shackled and standing in front of the Minister and the Wizengamot once more. The Chief Healer was also in attendance and reported to the court that while he found absolutely zero proof of her ever having been under the Imperius Curse, he felt it was best that she remained in custody whether at St. Mungo's or Azkaban, as she was a danger to herself and others due to her mental instability.
Umbridge let out a small giggle as the Cheif Healer finished speaking. Minister Shacklebolt turned his head back to face her, catching her smile before she could mask her face. He narrowed his eyes at her and asked if she had anything to say. She quickly donned her saccharine smile.
"Thank you, Minister. While it may be difficult for some people to understand all the hard work and pressure of working at the Ministry, I, for one, am ready to stay the task to get the job done. I shall be ready to resume my official post as Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic in two days time. Of course, I will need to completely redecorate my office as I'm certain that whomever has been occupying it has completely destroyed -"
"Madam." Shacklebolt had cut her off. He was done hearing her rubbish as she tried to take control of the situation. "You will not be reinstated in any sense to any position in the Ministry. You will, however, be able to enjoy your cell at the now dementor-free portion of Azkaban."
"How dare you!" Her fake smile and childish voice dropped away.
Any members of the Wizengamot who were not completely sure of her guilt nearly got whiplash with how fast she changed her demeanor. Many people began to whisper to each other about rumors they had heard that they now believed to be most likely true. She continued to glare at Shacklebolt.
"After everything I have done and sacrificed for the Ministry. After all the lying, magic-stealing mudbloods I sentenced for the sake of our world. How dare you think for one minute that you can just send me off to that dilapidated cesspool; that disgusting hell hole?!" She had began in a directed, hushed yell and finished in an irritated, huffing screech.
As the court witnessed her continued outburst, they whispered even more to each other. Shacklebolt patiently waited as she further unraveled while admitting to more crimes.
She finally cracked and shrieked out to the room. "Quit your whispering about me! I have done nothing but rid these disgusting mudbloods and blood traitors from among us! ORDER! Listen to me! I will have order!" She began pointing at different Wizengamot members who had opposed the corrupt Ministry while it was ran by Voldemort's puppets.
Having heard enough, Shacklebolt banged his gavel on the podium. The Wizengamot became completely silent as Umbridge continued to screech "I will have order! I will have order!"
Shacklebolt then picked up his wand and cast a Silencing charm in her direction. Umbridge's right eye twitched away as she continued screaming her Silenced "I will have order" chant.
The Minister looked to the Chief Healer and asked if Azkaban had a mental ward that was suitable for Ms. Umbridge. He responded to the affirmative. Umbridge was henceforth sentenced and taken to the mental ward of Azkaban.
Within a week, she had lost her privileges to use utensils, as she had used one to draw a rudimentary cat on her wall to which she was often observed speaking.
"Cordelia, you must bathe yourself. I refuse to have you in my presence whilst unkempt. I will have order." Her eyes glassed over and she stared at the wall without really seeing it as she continued to repeat, "I will have order. I will have order. I will... have......order."

submitted by Tricky-Bit-1865 to HPfanfiction [link] [comments]

2024.05.13 23:21 lubdubbin AITA for wanting my MIL to stay at a hotel to visit our baby?

My husband (26M) and I (28F) live in a 2x2 apartment and are expecting our first baby this Fall. We both work from home about half the time, so we each need separate spaces at home to work from. He currently works in our second bedroom, and I work in the living room. We will each only have 4 weeks of maternity/paternity leave, but after that, I can continue to work from home through the end of the year. My parents live out of state and they have already assured us that they will stay in a hotel when they come to visit us to meet the baby, which can be anytime I choose.
My in-laws live about 3 hours away and we drive to visit them every couple of months for a long weekend. This will be their first grandchild. I like to keep our house pretty clean and organized and we have no pets. My in-laws have a massive dog that sheds all over their house, and they do not keep a clean/organized house at all. I dread going to stay with them, but they are perfectly nice and I want to have a good relationship with them so I suck it up for a few days even though I am totally grossed out and have allergy issues when we stay there. My in-laws have never come to stay with us since we have lived in the same state, we always go to them.
Okay so here's my issue. My husband has made the assumption that my MIL will stay with us for several days to weeks after the baby comes to "help out". I told him that I don't think we need any help with just one baby, especially since I have extensive childcare experience and am a medical professional. I don't want anyone to come and stay as a guest, who I have to clean up after, on top of having a new baby for the first time. His argument is that she will be there to help watch the baby and to cook and clean for us. I don't want her to do any of that, partially because I find it unnecessary and partially because I'm certain it will just create more work for me.
My in-laws are welcome to come and visit for a few days at a time and see the baby for a few hours at a time, but I don't want anyone staying in our apartment with us. We have just enough space for us to both work from home comfortably and can convert our second bedroom into a nursery when the time comes. I want to eliminate the guest bed and ask his parents to stay in a hotel when they come to visit. I'm willing to compromise and offer an inflatable mattress or our large couch in the living room if they want to stay for a few days maximum, but even that makes me cringe. Am I being crazy or is this a reasonable request?

submitted by lubdubbin to AmItheAsshole [link] [comments]

2024.05.13 21:40 pinkpetfemme is it a bedbug?

i checked the edges of my mattress, and it looked clean; i also recently changed the sheets, so i feel like i would have noticed something then. for a few weeks now, i've been getting tiny hives all around my body at random times; very rarely do they show up as more than one, they're usually small and round, like a swollen goosebump, but every so often i get a handful of them all together, that aren't perfectly round. they aren't TERRIBLY itchy or painful, and they come and go on their own, or go away completely if i use benadryl or something i also don't just get them at home, or in bed, they show up wherever i am, usually
i have a lot of other symptoms that are indicative of seasonal allergies (post nasal drip, constant sneezing, scratchy throat, puffy eyes) and assumed the hives were a part of it, however, today i found a very tiny, what looked to be brown bug crawling on a dress of mine. instinctively i smashed it, and it had a very tiny amount of blood it in when i did. i took a picture of the still relatively intact body. i have a lot of clover mites outside of my bedroom window, and occasionally they find their way inside if i have the window open (which, i did when i found this bug) but, this was slightly bigger than a clovermite, though not really the size of the bed bugs you find on google, and again, looked to be brown before i smashed it, thus making it look red afterwards.
the appearance of the bug and the blood in it are really making me anxious, however, none of my hives really look like any bed bug bites i can find. i also live with three other people, one of whom i share a bed with, and none of them have had any hives/anything that looks like bites, however one of them has also had other seasonal allergy symptoms. i also have a cat, who has not been itchy at all (i assume bedbugs would bite animals, too)
what should i look out for? do i need to be concerned at all? i haven't found anything in my actual bed (and hopefully i wont) just on my clothes. since i had the window open, is it possible a tick blew in off of some animal? just hoping for any reassurance lol

submitted by pinkpetfemme to Bedbugs [link] [comments]

2024.05.13 20:43 ImportantImplement9 Cubby Bed vs. zPods Bed?

I see and hear a lot more about the Cubby Bed, probably just because more people have been able to obtain one.
The Cubby looks just like a giant pack n play, which my daughter absolutely hated as an infant/younger child (now 2.5 y/o).
I understand the tech hub is a completely separate package, which, I feel like is disappointing.
The zPods looks amazing. I love how they have so many features already included.
But admittedly don't know about people's real world experiences with it.
Anyone have experience with either and be willing to share?
Also, does either bed setup help with kiddos who, for the time being, have to be near a parent or caregiver in order to fall asleep?
Or does the enclosure style bed make it all worse?
My daughter wakes up screaming multiple times a night, bangs on the doowall, has fits/tantrums, occasionally bangs her head against the wall and/or changing table when she realizes we've left the room.
I'm just really exhausted with having to lay down on a mattress on the floor in order to get her to nap and sleep during the night and then try and sneak out.
Usually the sneaking part isn't the issue, it's the waking up to find we're gone which doesn't help.
I know it's a bad cycle. I just don't know how to break it and am hoping one of these beds will make sleeping really interesting to her that she will be excited to sleep (sounds ironic, I know) and won't want to leave the bed.
Any lived experiences? Appreciate any and all input!

submitted by ImportantImplement9 to Autism_Parenting [link] [comments]

2024.05.13 20:19 ikieneng My fanfiction - Episode 2

The next part is here! This episode is actually so long that I'm going to split it, so today, you're only getting part 1 of 3.
DISCLAIMERS (the same ones as before)
The point of this fanfiction is not to be a straight-up continuation of events with the same themes, intensity, and tone. If you go into it with those expectations, you are probably not going to like it. Rather, it’s supposed to be how I wish things went if these events were real life. The resolution you want for a real-life situation isn’t often the right choice for a show, but it can be incredibly beautiful. Think of what you’re about to read to be a separate show then.
Episode 1 of this fanfiction begins after the episode “2:00” (season 2 episode 4), so it replaces the episode “Cake” and the ones that follow it. This fanfiction expects you to have seen the entirety of seasons 1 and 2, so you should watch those first.
I myself bursting into the story here. The narrator and me are the same. While my character is like 95% real me, don’t take events about my life described here as facts. Some aspects of my life have been changed for the story. In my head, I started writing like an “alternate me” character in 2016, fulfilling a lot of the things that I wish I had in life, adding that to my story. I’m not really from Ukraine. I speak fluent Ukrainian as a foreign language, I started learning it in 2014, and I’ve talked to tons of people from there, but I’m not from Ukraine. I also don’t have as much money as I do in the story. I wish lmao.
If you want to post your own fanfiction, feel free to do so! To get your own post flair for your fanfic, and to appear in the side bar, please message me.
SEASON 2 EPISODE 6 - “ATTIC”
Part 1 (day 1)
So I'd be scheduled to work with Sean in the kitchen again, maybe a few days later, and Leanne would be "allowed" out of the attic again and have some time in the kitchen with me, like with Tobe in the real show (which Dorothy only started to allow because her strategy of pure torture and isolation wasn't working...). Julian would be there to watch us while Dorothy is at work (it would be around 10-11 AM) and Sean is shopping for new parts for the dishwasher.
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This time, we’d be told to cook something for Sean, following his recipe, maybe filling squid with a mix of mashed vegetables and spices.
This time, we’d be told to cook something for Sean, following his recipe, maybe filling squid with a mix of mashed vegetables and spices.
With Julian there, we’d be pretty limited in the things we can talk about, but the air would be noticeably lighter because of my gift for Leanne that neither of us can talk about yet, and you could tell on her face and especially in her eyes how much that has touched her. I’d imagine we’d talk about the stuff either of us likes to cook. She’d tell me that she doesn’t actually cook that much on her own. I’d be surprised and ask what she likes to eat, and she’d open one of the drawers and show me the cans upon cans of tomato soup and tell me she likes to just warm up a can every day and add some side dish on the plate, like toast, and something to drink, usually just water. She’d be a bit embarrassed about it because her experience is that people think that’s weird, but I’d tell her that I think that’s cute, and she could tell on my face that I mean it. I’d tell her how I eat obscene amounts of Ben & Jerry’s, even more so in the summer, and how her eating so much tomato soup reminds me of that, and I’d tell her how I drink sooo much Cola Zero that I’ve built up a lot of resistance to caffeine. “I can drink a whole two liter bottle, take my meds, and then go to bed just like that” (Side note: Coca Cola’s US website actually lists a two liter bottle among their sizes. Is that correct?) She’d be amazed and almost not believe me, but I’d show her my almost empty two-liter bottle in my backpack, with a little bit of condensed water from my fridge still on the outside, and she’d look at me with big eyes, bewildered and amazed, and we’d both chuckle before Julian tells us to stop. Quite confused, I’d ask why, like, what’s wrong with us laughing, and he’d tell us something like me not being there to have fun. I’d ask “Mister… What’s your surname?” - “Pearce” - “Do you have employees, Mister Pearce?” - “My father does, and I wouldn’t hire you anyway.” - “Oh, good, I wasn’t going to apply for a job with you in the first place. I can’t say I’m surprised that nobody wants to work for you.”
Leanne would be proud that I’m sticking it like that to Julian, and before he even has a chance to reply, she’d ask him “Could you please get us some wheat flour from the basement?” - “You want me to get you a fucking bottle, too?” - “Two would be nice.” - (Julian rolls his eyes) “I think I’d get two for myself, so I don’t lose it with you both!”, and he goes into the basement. As soon as Leanne can hear the door shut, she would suddenly tell me to fill up a bag she takes out from under the sink with ALL of the water bottles in the kitchen and a lot of the food in there that can be eaten as is and doesn't require cooking, and she’d tell me to do the same with my backpack, quietly go up to the attic, and hide there, so I can’t be seen if Julian comes upstairs, anticipating that she will be left alone in there again for days without food. I'd be confused at first, but she'd frantically beg me to do it immediately, and I'd trust her, I’d nod and say “okay” and do it. Julian would come back, and she'd pretend that I left. Julian would command her around again to finish up in the kitchen, and soon after, he'd lock her in the attic again, not knowing that I'm there.
I'd be shocked and really confused and concerned after realizing he just locked us in, and in that moment, she'd come to me, begging me on her knees to get her out of there, crying. At first, I’d just look around in shock with my jaw dropped, but then, I'd just hug her and just comfort her and let her know I'll do it. I'd feel so sorry for her... I wouldn’t know yet how long she’s been locked up for and why, but that wouldn’t matter for me to decide to help her. Really confused, I’d ask her to tell me what’s going on and why she’s locked up there. I’d be so shocked.
Once she’s calmed down enough after begging me to help her in full desperation, we’d sit down on the mattress. She’d tell me the full story - from the moment she first arrived at the Turners' in season 1 to now, including Dorothy’s brutal acts of violence and the pranks Julian and Sean played on her in season 1 to drive her out of the house, but she'd only mention the Church of Lesser Saints in passing as that's another really painful and complex topic she doesn't want to get into, and she wouldn't tell me about reanimating the doll yet because she knows how unbelievable the truth sounds (she tries not to let anyone know about her powers anyway). She'd stop several times while telling me all that because it's so hurtful, and I'd just comfort her and hug her . She’d cry out that it’s her fault and that she never should have come back. I’d just tell her that none of this is her fault and that she didn’t “come back” because she was taken against her will. “You can’t blame yourself for any of that. It’s not like they gave you a choice. It’s not your fault.” I’d tell her that she deserves none of the things they’ve done to her, I’d be absolutely horrified by them. She’d tell me about Sean’s visits to her, how he stopped coming upstairs after she was buried alive,
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and how he told her stories about Dorothy to try and make her (Leanne) feel sorry for her (Dorothy), so she can tell him where Jericho is. “I told him that Jericho died, and he just said nothing and stood up and got out after a while. He knows that there’s nothing I can do…” While she cries on my shoulder, I’d just comfort her, rubbing her back, and just express my absolute shock at the things she’s telling me and just try to make her feel at least a little bit better. I’d be like “Those are the worst things I’ve ever heard… He actually defends her? Like, he got you out of a hole in the ground and still told you that she’s ‘ not a bad person ’?” Leanne would nod. “Oh my God, what a piece of shit… What an absolute piece of shit… I’m so sorry you’re going through that… She’s trying to kill you, she’s starving you, she forces you to use the bucket, and… Oh my God, I’m so sorry…”
I’d just let her cry for a little while as I’m comforting her. I’d cry myself, just so shocked and horrified and scared. Unsure if that’s what she wants to do, she’d ask me if I’m going to call the police. I’d ask her how long she thinks we’ll be in here, and she’d say she doesn’t know. “Do you think someone will come up here before tonight?”, and she’d shake her head. “Mr. and Mrs. Turner don’t come up during the day anymore”. I’d suggest we wait until everyone’s asleep tonight and then try to find a way out. She’d say that she’s already tried everything, and I’d be like “Of course, but now, we got a lot more options because you’re not alone up here anyway. Like, okay, that’s gonna sound really hard, and it probably is, but I can try to step up on your shoulders and reach the skylight, stuff like that. If we can sneak out without them knowing, that’s probably a lot safer for you than calling the police while we’re unarmed and the Turners are not. And the last thing you need right now is another traumatic situation”. She’d look up at me, surprised that I’m even considering her well-being like this. “And if we don’t manage to get out tonight, we can still come up with a plan. What do you say?” And she’d smile and nod. I’d smile back and rub her back and say “Heeey, it’s gonna be alright. I’m getting you out of here! Until tonight, let’s just make the best of it!”, and she’d smile really hard at that, which would really touch me, seeing her smile like that because she has hope now, and she’d almost cry.
“So how did you like the cake?”, I’d randomly ask her. She’d look me directly in the eyes and tell me how delicious it was, full of joy, and show me the porcelain baby and say that she wants to keep it. I’d be like “I told you you’re special!” with a big smile and embrace her over the shoulders as she’s smiling back. She’d go “Thank you so much, Daria!”, and I’d be like “Of course!”
I’d then go “Hey, let’s eat some of this stuff! You must be starving!”, and we’d divide the food and water we got upstairs, dividing it into rations for three days (just to be sure…), making her ration for today a bit bigger because she hasn’t eaten in days. Because calling the police would create a dangerous situation for us (and it’s not like there are any lengths the Turners wouldn’t go to), we’d keep that as a last resort if we run out of food, “but let’s see what we can do tonight”. Among the food in my backpack would be every single can of tomato soup from the kitchen and a can opener 😊 Even though it’s cold, the soup would be like heaven to her! And I’d be like “Mmm! Hey, honestly, this is way better than I expected!” - “You like it?” - “Yeah! I thought it might be a bit dull, but there’s, like, what’s in here? I think there’s some celery, definitely some salt, and there are some chunkier bits, like, yeah, this is pretty good!” This is her comfort and favorite food, and because it’s such a rare choice, I don’t think anyone has ever told her that they like it (even the way Dorothy said “You do love that soup, don’t you?” in season 1 kinda communicated that she found it odd or weird),
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and she’d love hearing that! I’d ask her if she’s ever had Ben & Jerry’s, and she’d say she hasn’t. “I’m gonna give you some when we’re out of here, you’re gonna love it! My favorite flavor is Cookie Dough S’Wich Up, it’s like vanilla ice cream mixed with cookie dough, Oreo pieces, and brownie pieces, and also some chocolatey stuff mixed in with the vanilla in some spots!”, and that would sound great to her, she’d look forward to it. And I’d give her the rest of my Cola Zero. She’s probably had some before, but right now, she’d enjoy every bit of it.
I’d take out my two phones at some point (I actually do have two - an iPhone 15 Pro Max and a Samsung Galaxy S5 Mini lmao, but there was no 15 Pro Max at this time, so I’d have an iPhone 13 Pro Max here) and give her the Samsung because, like, we don’t really know for sure if anyone will come upstairs before tonight. I’d add my own number as a contact as well and add her as a contact on my iPhone under the number of the Samsung phone, so this way, she can call the police herself if the Turners find me upstairs with her, and the police can find out where I am if anything happens to me, and vice-versa.
After we’re done eating, knowing that we’re left with like ten to eleven hours until we can try to get out, we’d just sit there on the mattress saying nothing for a few seconds. Breaking the silence, I’d look around a bit and ask “Did the attic look the way it did when you… you know, or did you decorate it like this?”
https://preview.redd.it/x38rzmzdj80d1.png?width=780&format=png&auto=webp&s=18f45af349fce7f3783887e7e2eb3a27c7c27ced
She’d say she did. “It’s beautiful, especially with the lights and stuff! You’ve got a good eye!”, and she’d smile a bit in embarrassment. I’d be like “Hey, I mean it! No need to be embarrassed!” and then say “Have you heard about, like, I don’t know what to call it, but some department stores have LED chains that you can stick to surfaces and control the color of with a remote. Most of them can even fade back and forth between colors. When we’re out of here, if you want, I can show you some. If you already like these lights, you’re gonna love them!”, and she’d smile and say that that sounds great! I’d show her some on my phone, and we’d imagine putting them up around us and talk about our ideas that we couldn’t realize because we obviously just wanna get out of there, and we’d talk about where we’re gonna go once we are. I’d suggest my place, a small rental house like twelve minutes by bike from there that’s technically in East Lansdowne, where we can stay at least for a little while, and she’d say she’d love to, but to please take her somewhere safe where the Turners can’t find her, somewhere far away, certainly not this close to them. I’d suggest going to a hotel, and that would sound great to her. We’ll probably have to go to my place first just to get my stuff, but yeah, we can go to a hotel from there. I’d again just reassure her that it’s gonna be alright.
She’d bring up that I told her I’ve spent an exchange year in California, and I’d say that yes, I’ve spent a year in San Diego and add “Still the best year of my life.” She’d ask why, and in her own words, she’d say that we talked so much about HER life, and she wants to know some more about me. I’d tell her I wasn’t the first one in my family to do a student exchange year. My sister went to Denmark from 2008 to 2009. “You got a sister?”, Leanne would ask, and I’d tell her I got two and ask about her family, and she’d tell me she’s an only child. I’d tell her my sisters moved out, or rather, they were forced out, in 2007 (I think) and 2012, so I was alone with my parents for several years, which felt a lot longer. “Time already flies by at twenty-three now”. And anyway, at the time, I thought my mother, who did most of the “parenting”, wanted to make me happy by letting me go abroad for a year, but in retrospect, it’s pretty obvious that she just wanted to be rid of me for a year, the same as when my sister went to Denmark. In retrospect, I remember how many arguments she and my sister had after she came back, which was partly because she definitely enjoyed being rid of her for a year, and then, she had to “deal” with her again. Leanne and me would just lock eyes, and I’d say “We both got terrible moms” and chuckle because of it while still having sad expressions on our faces.
I’d say “Anyway, my first choice were the US, and I got placed with a family in San Diego, California, or [sãn ˈd̪je.ɣ̞o] in Spanish”. Surprised, she’d ask “You speak Spanish, too??”, and I’d be like “Yeah, but not back then”, and in awe, she’d ask how many languages I speak. I’d answer her in each language before saying what language I was just speaking in - fluent Ukrainian, English, and R*ssian, rather good Spanish, some French and Dutch, and I’ve forgotten most of the Finnish and Azeri that I used to know, and I’d show her on Google Maps where that’s even spoken. She’d be really impressed ahaha, and a bit embarrassed about herself. I’d be like “Hey, it’s okay, you don’t need to compare yourself to anyone. Life’s not a competition”, and that would be a really important lesson in life for her, certainly very different from how she’s been taught to think before, especially by her mother and by the Turners. She seems pretty smart anyway, and when I tell her that, she’d be really surprised and flat-out say no, and I’d be like “You’re super resourceful in the kitchen, like, you can come up with solutions to problems pretty quickly, you’re great at remembering details, and you already know that you got lots of special skills! I’d say you’re pretty smart!”, and she’d smile again before making a sadder face and telling me that she never went to school because the Church never let her. I’d be like “That’s… That’s horrible. If you want, there are YouTube channels out there that maybe you can use to learn about all the stuff you missed out on”, and she’d nod a little with a bit of a smile. “Doesn’t say anything about your intelligence anyway. Credentials are only credentials, and school is pretty terrible at telling you how smart you are.”
Back on talking about California, I’d tell her about my year there from August 2014 to August 2015. While there, I didn’t even realize how free I was all of a sudden because I was away from my parents for the first long time in my life. I changed a lot in that year because I didn’t have them look over my shoulder and judge my every move anymore. My mother even took me by the hand outside up until I left for America, and suddenly, I could socialize with whomever I wanted, I could stay outside of the home after school, like, AT ALL, the family I was with, they actually cared, like, I could talk to them, I could just ask when I needed stuff, and they didn’t force their restrictive values and stuff on me, I could just be me, y’know? I’d tell her that my time in California was also the first time I had a girlfriend (a little hint there ahaha), which my parents would have gone ballistic over if they found out. Leanne would ask if her and me still speak, and I’d be like “No, not in a very long time”, and she’d ask about the family I stayed with in San Diego, if we’re still speaking, and I’d be like “Oh yeah, we do. They know about where I live now, about a lot of the things that’s happened in my life since 2015, and yeah. We actually talked just a few days ago.”
“If it’s not too personal”, I’d ask, “do you still talk to your parents?”, and she’d shake her head and say she doesn’t, and that she doesn’t wanna talk about that, maybe another day, and I’d be like “Okay” and respect that.
Back on talking about California, I’d say “ignorance is bliss”, so to come back from America a year later (we already moved to Kyiv City before I left for America), where nothing had changed, with how much I had changed in that year without realizing it, my home life became horrible as a result. I suddenly realized that my parents having loud arguments several times a week is NOT normal, and I began to realize that my mother probably never cared so much about me and my autism diagnosis (which I got in 2006) because she loved me, but because she used it to cash in benefits for it all these years. I have no idea how much she received, but one time, I saw the bank statements of my parents’ shared account, and there were the equivalent of like $8000-$9000 in there, while I only received the equivalent of like $30 per month as an allowance. For years, a health inspector would come by once a year to check up on me (mostly by just talking to my mother) for continuing the granting of the money she exploited me for, and for years, she'd taught me to act like - literally - the most mentally disabled person ever during those check-ups, either ignoring the inspector completely and acting like they're not there at all, or cowering up in a corner and pretending I'm terrified. This way, she cashed in the money that's granted for the care of people whose level of disability is comparable to that of late-stage dementia patients… While the government was already struggling financially! Living in a normal environment for a year really changed me, and I didn't notice it until I came back, when I finally stopped playing along, which would make everything worse for how I was treated, and just one month later was when my parents broke up and decided they wanted a divorce, which made my world crumble even more than it already had.
If I didn’t have feelings for her, I’d probably just call the police, but because I do like her in that way already, I’d just go the extra mile and comfort her and ask her if she can tell me what’s going on and stuff, assuring her that I’ll get her out of there.
If Leanne was a completely different person and I didn't have feelings for her, I'd probably call the police, but when you're slowly starting to fall in love with somebody, you just wanna make sure they're safe and be really careful about this. I haven't gotten to a lot of the stuff in my life yet because it's a long story, but with how Leanne and me both went through parental abuse, parents who worked really hard to make us feel horrible, strict religious abusive upbringings, horrible punishments when we left religion, feeling so left behind in our development because of our upbringings and struggling to succeed in the wider world as a result (it's so hard to actually find someone who understands what that's like. I feel so much comfort and understanding knowing that Leanne can really relate to this!), and falling into the traps of other people who used our lack of experience and agency, we both went through so many similar things in different ways, and I'd think we'd bond soooo much over that, knowing and feeling how much we both understand each other through the similar things we went through, that would bring both of us so much comfort! I think we'd not just be great, but great for each other, not only through our similar experiences, but also through our similar personalities and values, like how we're not fitting in with people. I love her peculiarities so much that people just call weird, like how she eats sooooo much canned tomato soup, how she arranges everything so tidily, like her plates or her food in the kitchen, or how she keeps bugs she tries to reanimate.
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Something I'd notice so easily at this point in the story already are the ADORABLE ways she reacts to things with her face and verbally! Some examples of what I mean by that are her short pauses before she speaks if she doesn't know how to answer right away,
https://preview.redd.it/u5yj2u9nj80d1.png?width=780&format=png&auto=webp&s=b3fdaaa7db350b8664b4f0391e5ba57621cae47a
how she answers non-verbally sometimes like smiling and nodding instead of saying yes,
https://preview.redd.it/4nkz9lvnj80d1.png?width=780&format=png&auto=webp&s=509294d626b4e85f75a630214fecb5a836f6955f

the way she moves her eyes when something's awkward,
https://preview.redd.it/7pits5koj80d1.png?width=780&format=png&auto=webp&s=45bd06c9198a480c47e61c8f8b3256fc958a7202

that is SO INCREDIBLY CUTE, I adore it so much, it adds so much to her personality! I'd notice that so hard already and absolutely adore it!
And even though we wouldn't know much about each other yet, we'd already notice and really like these things about each other. And up there, when I tell her a little bit about my life like I just have, she'd really feel for me, too and comfort me back, and that is honestly so wonderful to imagine for me ❤️ She'd sit there next to me and listen a lot and look at me, and embrace me a little bit. She wouldn't really know how to do that yet because it's not something that people ever did for me or taught her to do for others until I just came along, but she'd now know how good that feels and do it for me, too, as best as she knows how, and that's the best thing about it!
Late that night, when we think that everyone else is almost certainly asleep, we'd try to find anything we can in the room to get through the door of the attic without being loud enough to wake anyone up (because then, we'd both be screwed), but there would be nothing we could do to get out right then and there without the Turners waking up. If there was, Leanne would have been long gone already. We’re both twigs lol, so we’d step up on each other’s shoulders to try and reach the skylight, but it would be too high. We’d look for long solid objects to try and reach the skylight, but anything we find wouldn’t be enough. I’d double-check the door to the other part of the attic, and it would be locked. Smashing any doors would wake everyone up at night and make them come upstairs during the day. The window is locked, and it’s way too high for a safe fall anyway. So we'd make plans. If, in three days, we're still locked up, we will call the police because we'd have no other choice, but if Sean or someone else comes in by then, Leanne would be ""given"" a few hours out of the attic again, and they would leave the attic unlocked like they did before
https://preview.redd.it/xlgdf3mrj80d1.png?width=780&format=png&auto=webp&s=1b517528b4d494774c463ee320cd0ded84367809
because they'd think no one else is in there, and I would leave all the rations in the attic, sneak out of the attic, and leave through the basement. I'd leave the Samsung phone with her, so that she can reach me after I get out of there and prepare to get HER out of there. The plan would be for me to go home, taker a shower, type up everything I've seen into a PDF file addressed to the police, and send the PDF file to one of my internet friends (I actually have such a hard time making friends, another way in which Leanne and I are so similar and would really get each other). (I’m changing his name for this story for privacy reasons) I'd probably choose my friend Liam for this. I'd tell him that if I'm not back online telling him I'm safe in 24 hours, that he should then open the PDF file and call the Philadelphia police and read it all out to them. If I lived in America, I'd definitely get a gun lol. In Pennsylvania, I'd actually be able to just go buy one, I'd pass the requirements of the instant background checks. I'd get my gun, pack up everything we'd need for the next couple of weeks, and get a taxi to like one block away from the Turners', and with my gun for intimidation (considering that they're holding her hostage, this would probably fall under acting in defense of a third party), lock the Turners in the bathroom, have Leanne come downstairs, and leave with her, get to the taxi, and drive off, out of Philly, and be safe from the Turners for now.
But we'd leave the details for the next day. By this point, I'd need to tell her about some of my medical conditions, like night terrors, which usually fade during one's youth, but for me, they never did, so that she's prepared if they happen and doesn't get too freaked out, and so she knows that they're completely triggerless and can happen to me even after the best of days. I’d tell her that people don’t usually remember their night terrors at all, so she knows that I will act like nothing happened in the morning because I literally won't remember, it's only sometimes that I know that SOMETHING scary happened, but I rarely ever remember the night terrors themselves at all), and also so she knows to make sure I won't hurt myself or her if I have an episode, and also because it's a safety issue in this situation, to make sure that the Turners don't hear me, because if they did, we’d be screwed. And I'd have to tell her about my PTSD (because of the war in Ukraine, I’d tell her I’d lived through the first three days of it), which gives me nightmares, and to please wake me up if she notices I'm having those. We'd share the tiny mattress and covers that are up there, say good night, and fall asleep next to each other! Because I wouldn't have my meds, she'd fall asleep first, and I'd just look at her for a while 😊

submitted by ikieneng to teamleanne [link] [comments]

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