Drawing pictures from letters in the alphabet

It's unsettling, how suicides always ravaged my family. There's barely half of them still standing, compared to just ten years ago. They would always develop some form of suicidal ideation and eventually attempt to go through with it, which is insane to think about. But there was one case that stuck with me for the longest time. When the generation of my parents found their way from Vietnam to Europe most of them would sooner or later settle in Germany. But my aunt remained in the Czech Republic. I'd see her and my cousin occasionally at family reunions and I would always enjoy the time we spend together. From all the conservative asian parents, she was the one most level headed and calm.
Over the years we would lose contact with her, until my mom suddenly announced that we would be visiting her at her place in the outskirts of Prague. Appearently she has gone insane in the meantime and my mom worries about her safety and the safety of a pet bird and a litter of baby bunnies including their parents, that she adopted. I didn't think much of it at the time, instead choosing to be excited about the family trip and the baby bunnies, we would be taking over.
Man, she was in a rough state. She would become my first contact with a unmistakenly manic, openly paranoid and uncomfortably unpredictable person. One second she would be the softspoken and kind aunty, caring lovingly for her many pets and the next she would yell profanties at the TV, thinking the goverment is harassing her with covert messages. Going out with her would prove to be troublesome as she would go on unprovoked hysterias and pick (sometimes physical) fights with strangers, all the time.
In the following days I would come in contact with the embodiment of her delusion: A manifesto, spanning over more than 1000 loosely connected pages, of what she presumed to be worldchanging ideas. It would cover a wide range of financial, social and psychological concepts. The theories she would go on to illustrate would start of rather basic and harmless and would go on to become certifiably psychotic. One of the tamer examples: She would tackle the human energy crisis, by letting elephant circle a lake, to power generators. The fish inside the lake would be trained to spit water at the surrounding lands, watering plants, which in turn would feed the elephants. That self regenerating cycle would then logicially churn out infinite energy.
What I read was the chronological documentation of my aunts descent into madness. Her writings and drawings would evolve over time, adding more erratic and chaotic characteristics. What pained me, was a certain obsession with the concept of loneliness and how humanity has to come together to overcome our difficulties. Her lines conveyed her own struggles with abandonment, isolation and solitude in a touching way. It must have been a living hell for her and these ideas would serve as an escape from this cruel reality. Her mind flying off to a world, where humans would watch out for each other with not a single soul left behind.
She would see herself as a target of the goverments, since her revolutionary ideas posed a threat to the status quo. Seeing bugging devices, goverment officials and hitmen in trailing cars and around every corner.
We would take her back home to germany with us, but her mania drove her back to her place to finish her work and we couldn't stop her. Looking back, we shouldn't have let her go. Not at all. She posed a danger to herself and others, but vietnamese people don't deal with family issues by using outside force, like the police.
Last thing we heard of her, was her begging my cousin to forgive and come visit her, but she refused. I wasn't old enough to take action myself nor was I able to. I didn't have the required bond to her, for my words to carry weight and meaning and I was not the one able to heal the wounds inflicted by others. It's a sad reality, often times it's not enough to hear certain words, even if they're true. We need the right person to say them and that person might not be able or willing to say these things with sincerity.
Months later my other aunt would call us, voicing the suspicion that she has left this world voluntarily and she was right. She hung herself, found by her daughter, who went to check after being contacted by my other aunt, with the same message. I didn't attend the funeral, but appearently she was already deeply purple and bloated, so some time must have passed between the act and our discovery. I think about her alot and it even haunts my dreams, way more often than I'm comfortable with. A reoccuring nightmare, in which I would walk into our dark kitchen with her hanging from the ceiling and me having no arms to cut her loose and no mouth to scream.
Back in the day I could never imagine, how someone would go off the deep end in such a devastating fashion, but I would get these thoughts shoved right back into my face by karma. Mania would go on to ruin me and give me a taste of what she went through. We are both cut from the same cloth. The uncontrollable thoughts and ideas, blatant disregard for other people, the inability to see and assess the consequences of your actions and to show discernment. The need to voice and capture your insanity in an increasingly deranged manner. And most of all the brief respite, where you come to your senses, just for a moment and fully see the shattered remains of what used to be your life. The phase where you try to reconnect and make amends with the people you have wronged. My room is littered with unfinished thoughts, some of them catching mold from the tears.
It was too late, when my aunt regained her consciousness. The damage to her relationships was already done and she went too far down a path, where others couldn't follow and rescue her anymore. It's fascinating, how communication can break down to the point, where what we say doesn't even matter anymore. I wholeheartedly believe that her final attempt to reach out was genuine. That she felt true need for it but she couldn't make her change of heart believeable to the people, that mattered. Our frame around our words dictate the message.
I feel like I am at this point. I don't know if I'm coherent anymore and I can't voice my thoughts anywhere but here, where only strangers can read them. There is still many letters to be written, yet never to be sent. I still want my thoughts to have the space to exist, once I'm gone. They will serve as proof, that I felt, that I thought and I lived.
With my time running ever closer to an end, I wonder, if it would have been better for me to have died with my integrity and dignity still intact. To have finished life before I would've gotten more chances to ruin everything. One of the main reasons I deeply regret surviving my first attempt. Now I am left scrambling for answers: How can I leave this life behind, before I fully end up like her? How can I minimize the damage after my passing? How can I make people, that got to know me, forget I ever existed in the first place?
Will I find peace in my final moments or will I go, drowning in emotions like she did?
P.S. There was some good in there, too. I would end up raising two generations of baby bunnies, which I loved more than anything in this world. They would lead very comfortable, long and happy lives. I would come to them, when I was broken and cuddle them mercilessly. If I was to be reborn, I'd like to be a pet bunny to a lost teenager, with the same fondness for bunnies as me.​

The Cottingley fairies story is one of the first cases were real proves about mystery creatures has been introduced to the world. It all happened in the year 1917 at the afternoon; two girls played in the forest and took five pictures of real fairies.
chat with psychic, check this post:
https://www.reddit.com/freepsychicreadings4u/comments/1d1tkzo/need_answers_now_chat_with_online_psychics_247/
Frances Griffiths and Elsie were children who used to play together in the garden at Cottingley village. One day they told Elsie's father that they want to use his camera so they will be able to photo the little fairies they meet everyday deep in the woods. Of course he didn’t believe them, but still they asked very nicely so he lent the camera and showed them how to operate it. Few hours later the girls came back home with the camera and the father develop the films. He could see clearly that there are real fairies in the pictures, however they didn’t looked in three dimension so he thought that it’s just a little trick he couldn’t understand.

But the girls didn’t stopped, every once in a while they came back with fairy pictures and the father just save them in a notebook and forget about it. But Polly the mother couldn’t stop thinking what if it is for real? She always has been a huge fan of psychic mysteries and she wanted to share these fairies pictures and to prove the father that it is not a hoax. And so she gave the pictures to a respectable man in the community who had spiritual organization in that time. Then a special photographer has examined the information and concludes that they are real and not fakes. From that very moment everyone knew about this psychic mystery and the pictures have been published in magazines and newspapers.

As you might guess, many people were skeptics and argued that the fairies` look is one dimensional like cartoon or a piece of paper hanging in the middle of the landscape. Other criticized the mimic of the girls` face; they don’t look so surprised in this extra ordinary experience, in fact they don’t look on the fairies at all. To dismiss this claim, the girls stated that they are used to be near them all the time, it is something usual for them to be surrounded with this magical paranormal. More claims against the truth of these evidences are that some of the fairies didn’t have wings at all, and their clothing is very similar to the contemporary wardrobe.

So why so many English people believed in Cottingley fairies story? The rational explanation is that after World War One they wanted to feel something gentle, to have some hope, to see little fragile lives blooming honestly and untouched. It is a human need to search for good things after the bad situations that were created by the war. It is a good way to escape from the daily horror.

In the end someone found that the fairy pictures looks exactly as the drawing in the book: “Princess Mary's Gift”. After few years a confession was made by one of the girls and she explained exactly how she copied these little fairy figures to a paper. The fairies were placed and attached in different positions with simple instruments such as strings and glue. There are many variations and conspiracies about this mystery until today. But even if it is not true story it can teach us a lot about ourselves and how we want to live our life.
And beside that maybe after all real fairies do exists!
while the Cottingley fairy photographs may have been debunked as a clever hoax, it's essential to remember that mysteries still abound in our world. From ancient folklore to modern-day encounters, stories of mystical beings persist across cultures and generations. While the Cottingley fairies may not have been real, who's to say that somewhere, in some hidden corner of our world, these magical creatures don't exist? Perhaps the truth is yet to be uncovered, waiting to reveal itself in the most unexpected of places. After all, in a world filled with wonder and possibility, the existence of fairies is a delightful notion that continues to capture our imaginations and inspire us to believe in the magic all around us.

looked all over the internet for smthng like this and rarely find any, so i thought ill do this myself
PART A
A1: Create a logo for a home appliance shop using circles and triangles. Give it a modern look. Overlapping of shapes is allowed. Give it various shades and tints (repeated)
A2: Draw a composition composing of 4 wooden bowls of various shapes and sizes. Make it seem interesting. Depict shadows and shades
A3: Using the given blocks, create a scattered (composition?) and show rhythm
PART B
these are to the best of my ability okay
___ is an iron alloy with low carbon content. (Wrought iron)
Obelisk is a ___ (tall slender tower) (repeated)
Building element responsible for carrying weight of structure from roof to foundation
https://www.toppr.com/ask/question/a-and-b-can-do-a-piece-of-work-in-72-days-b-and-c/
A (not same name) Walked from Jaisalmer to Ranchi. Which direction is he going?
image was given and asked to identify (buland darwaza)
(a+b) x (a-b)/b2
question on identifying golden ratio
image was given and asked to identify painter using his nickname "Picasso of India"
A and B were standing face to face in the morning. As shadow fell on Bs left. Which direction in B facing?
there was this picture of a drawing composed of 'semicircles'(some of them seemed complete circles but apprenlty not) and you had to count the total number of semicircles
1 Profit & Loss question (simple it was like SP given profit given find CP) and Speed distance (speed given time given, find distance)
Mirror images
another image based question of (i dont know what this is) its like a instrument box but the bottom of it has three circles 2 big 1 small, all of them attched to each other and the top half is some..dude printed on it idk.
all the ones i can remember. Overall: Math was easy, Visual seemed tougher ngl and 4 markers were harder than normal
also for anyone scared, i wrote 28th April and this didnt seem harder than it, seemed like the same level ngl. (still didnt score that great lol)
hope this helps!!

Illuminating Insights with Similes**
Summary:
A simile is a figure of speech comparing two unlike things using "like" or "as." It enhances descriptions, providing vivid imagery and aiding readers in making connections between seemingly unrelated concepts.
Examples:

1. Classical: "O my Luve is like a red, red rose / That’s newly sprung in June." - Robert Burns, "A Red, Red Rose."
   
2. Modern: "She dealt with moral problems as a cleaver deals with meat." - James Joyce, "Dubliners."
   
3. Modern: "The water is as clear as crystal, reflecting the vibrant colors of the fish like a living kaleidoscope." - Travel blog post.
   

Tips for Creative Writing:

• Be Specific: Use detailed comparisons to paint a clear picture.
  
• Capture Emotion: Similes can convey not just appearance but also emotions.
  
• Enhance Atmosphere: Set the mood by employing similes that evoke specific feelings.
  

Questions for Exploration:

1. How does a simile differ from a metaphor in terms of structure?
   
2. Can you think of situations where a simile might be more effective than a metaphor, and vice versa?
   

Additional Resources:

• Explore Langston Hughes' poetry for powerful use of similes.
  
• Read "The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald to analyze how similes contribute to character descriptions.
  

Creative Writing Prompt:
Step 1: Choose a common object or experience (e.g., rain, laughter).
Step 2: Compare it to something unexpected, using "like" or "as."
Step 3: Craft a sentence incorporating your simile.
Example: Laughter echoed through the room like a chorus of joyful bells, resonating with warmth and delight.
Remember: Similes add layers to your writing by drawing parallels between familiar and unfamiliar concepts.

what if I drink while, closed eyes how to picture us.
we're falling down alley hills, yet still I believe in him.
a lot of words are useless now, I'll survive the abyss.
Can't see the signs to wakeup, theres a mirror for the sky.
busted roads and empty streets it hides from yellow leaves.
you need somewhere hidden deep, away from everybody else.
Today you'll feel, I'll break in your dreams, I'm so unkind your heart is mine
I'll waste my time, I'm sure its alright You'll try to find some words in your mind.
I love you darlin needs alright, write a letter is it true? Greater things are not to hard.
but if i need to forget to this. choke me baby and tie me up to the dark to the sunrise, there is nothing truly there if I go far.
Today you'll feel, I'll break in your dreams, I'm so unkind, your heart is mine I'll waste my time
I'm sure its alright, you'll try to find some words in your mind. Today you'll feel I'll break in your
dreams I'm so unkind your heart is mine I'll waste my time im sure its alright you'll try to find
something in my eyes.

TRADE OFFER
You receive: A beautifully designed PowerPoint presentation in .pptx format, or in your preferred format (Keynote, Google Slides, Prezi etc.)

• Comes with a FREE custom template made by me (or a template that you prefer). You can add new slides that you can edit yourself and it will have the same look / feel.
• Your presentation has beautiful royalty free pictures and custom charts, graphs, diagrams and illustrations.
• The slides and assets inside it are editable and follow your branding / company guidelines.

I receive: $15 / slide or whatever your budget is lmao
TL;DR
Service: PowerPoint Presentation / Slide Deck / Pitch Deck / Business Presentation / Corporate Presentation Design (6 years of experience)
Price: $15 / slide or whatever your budget is lmao
Payment method: PayPal
Portfolio: https://aecel.github.io/presentation-design/
Contact: [Email me at sniffysloth@gmail.com](mailto:sniffysloth@gmail.com) or DM me (I would prefer NOT to use Reddit chat, which is a different thing from Direct Message (DM). It's very buggy. Most of the time I don't get the message / notification.)
Hi, I'm Ace. I'm a presentation designer and illustrator. I have 7 years of experience in presentation design and 9 years of experience in vector illustration. Check out my portfolio (https://aecel.github.io/presentation-design/) to look at some of my past works!
Feel free to email or DM me for other questions / comments.
FAQ:
What is needed to start the project? How does it work?
Send these to me at [sniffysloth@gmail.com](mailto:sniffysloth@gmail.com) :

1. Your plain PowerPoint presentation with clear content for each slide (This can just be plain text or handwritten drawings, charts, graphs or diagrams. I will visually enhance it, restructure, and put in royalty free pictures, custom charts, graphs, diagrams, illustrations etc. Check out my portfolio's "More Samples" section (https://aecel.github.io/presentation-design/) to take a look at what my past client sent me and what my output looks like.)
2. The Deadline (date and time on when you need the final presentation)

Optional assets: Your preferred style, brand kit, color schemes, template, pictures, anything that can help me deliver what you want. Without a preferred style, I will default to my usual minimalist, clean, flat, vector corporate style similar to Facebook's Allegria style. (See my portfolio for samples)
I will give you a confirmation email and an invoice for 50% downpayment. After I receive this payment, I will start the project. I will send you the first few slides and ask for your feedback, to make sure that I am heading in the right direction. You will receive the final presentation on or before the agreed upon deadline.
When do I get the final file?
You will receive the final presentation on or before the agreed upon deadline. I would prefer a deadline that is at least a week away. For more urgent projects, please let me know immediately.
Can I request for revisions?
Yes, I can accommodate a maximum of 2 rounds of revisions. I really want to avoid these revisions, of course, so in my first final file, I will make sure that each slide is perfect.
Can you add animations to my slides?
Yes, please add a comment on the specific slide that needs an animation.
What other services do you offer?
I can make vector illustrations and logos. I can also vectorize any raster image. Basically, vector illustrations have flat color, solid edges, and can scale to any size. When you zoom in or scale them up, you will not find pixels, you will find clean and sharp edges. Some artists who use this style/format are Kurzgesagt and Olly Moss. This YSK post explains it well.

I'm getting toward the bottom of my gigantic, overdo pile, so some of these may even be from within the last 30 days :)
u/t3ctim: Love my Australian dingo card related to my Golden Ratio offer :) That is a very cool picture! Smooches to Honey :)
u/which_flan_9504: TY for my very cool hand made stickered up postcard with the awesome stamps. I love your printing. So sorry to hear the message you sent-Let me reassure you that you ARE NOT ALONE, friend! You have a whole community standing behind you here, and a friend willing to listen in me! Sending you lots of positivity and good vibes!
u/vanish-inks: TY for my super cool Mr. Waffles TY p/c! I can just picture him taking his Baby Yoda everywhere! None of my dogs have been big on taking their toys with them, and I think that is so absolutely adorable! I lost my sweet pittie a couple of years ago, so the household is down to me and my cat at the moment. I've promised him no other interlopers, so no new pets are on the horizon. I do help a local dog rescue transport dogs between facilities though, so I get a little fix in that way!
u/rennbrig: TY for my very cool mystical forest, fairy tale-esque postcard! I love that style and that one in particular is beautiful!
u/cswl x2: I got a jam packed envelope from you last week-two awesome cards, plus some goodies! Your dream vacation sounds awesome! I was supposed to go on an Alaskan cruise a few years back, and we couldn't do it. We've just never gotten it together to make it happen!
u/Reasonabl_Ad1688: TY for my very cool postcard of the Albert in London! I loved reading about Powell's and in fact, they were one of the cards in my bookstore p/c set. IDK if I chose that one for you or not, but wouldn't that be funny if I had? I would love to visit there one day. I've been to the Strand in NYC which is also massive and that was pretty cool. Love the buy back feature too-sounds like a great place!
u/purpleroots: TY for my Franz Kline postcard from earlier this spring. Loved your pen drawings, and the cool effects you used on my name. It has inspired me to doodle more! I'm getting back into some artsy/crafty endeavors after not doing much on that front. I am dipping into watercolor and found postcard blanks in watercolor paper, so I hope to be able to send out something with them soon! Also, the postmark from Big Dog Race Station was so cool!
u/DianaPenPal: TY for my random mailing in mid April! I loved the pretty postcard, llama coloring piece and stickers you sent and decorated with! I have been saving the llama, and I'm glad I did. I just got watercolor pencils and I want to try them out on this cutie! TY for the rec on Britney's memoir. I too would have been unlikely to pick that one up, but maybe I will. I just finished Ella Minnow Pea yesterday. It was good, funny, creative, but also disturbing given the political times we are in. I recommend it !
u/annoyinglangers x2: TY for my two adorable Easter cards. My favorite was the pastel colored chicks popping out of eggs in a carton-SOOO cute :) All the envelope stickers were awesome and your personalized return address labels are always so cute-I love seeing them. Sending you lots of good vibes, my friend! I haven't sent out much lately, but I've been thinking of you and hoping all is well!
u/princecowboy: I cannot tell you how much I absolutely love this whole thing you sent me (geesh, maybe even in late 2023! So sorry I'm so late, especially for such a touching card!) I adore everything about it-Cowboy as royalty, his story, the story of Pups On Parole, your compassion for the inmate who worked with Cowboy, the 3D model of Cowboy (which sits on my desk so I can gaze upon his cute when writing or working upstairs!), and the gorgeous black and gold theme with the envelope. I miss my pit mix who's been gone almost 2 years every day, and my heart isn't healed enough to bring home another sweet dog yet, so everything about this just brought me a lot of joy and peace-this is one of the most special cards I've ever gotten here. TY to you and Cowboy, and please give him all my love!!
u/FollowingTheBeat: How did you know that I have an affinity for lightening bugs? I loved this sweet card from our own special baby raspberry :) I loved the heart and star doodles you added :)
u/thecaledonianrose: girrrrl-you send me so many awesome postcards! I am always behind just on your TY's alone :) This is for the "treasured romance" postcard of the watercolor style woman with a parasol and child in a wildflower field, from way back in April! So pretty-TY for always being a faithful postcard pal!!
u/onebadjoke: TY for my blue fish notecard! I haven't always lived here-I grew up in the midwest and lived in Philly for decades. When I wanted a bigger yard for my dog, I decided to look over here vs. the PA suburbs and the rest is history! I would love to explore your adopted country more; been there once and just loved it! I made it to the shore for a few day trips this spring. I'm hoping to stay for awhile in the early fall! I leave the busy summer days to the hard core beach crowds, LOL!
u/mallorn_hugger: OMG!! I think you win the (unfortunate) award of absolutely latest TY!! I believe this letter from you is from LAST SPRING :( when I made a strawberry themed offer! I LOVED your strawberry cake stationery from S. Korea and all the beautiful strawberry stickers you used and sent me. I love all the cool, quirky, unusual stationery items found throughout Asia. I have cousins in Japan and a friend who periodically travels to Hong Kong and they bring me fun stuff like sometimes. I really loved this, and I feel terrible that I forgot your TY for so long!

I have seen this in several videos about ancient stuff in the past years. It's on the Amazigh flag, it's on cave paintings, it's on ancient artifacts and most importantly, it's found in several cultures around the world from different periods of pre-history, some were separated by oceans. It's probably something to do with proto-indo-european civilizations.
I remember hearing that it had to do with something other that a male figure, but over time the original meaning was lost and someone projected a male figure on it. It's not the fascinus. If my faint memory isn't failing me, it represented human reproduction and had some metaphysical analogical association with the sun and the four seasons. The Swastika and the star of David (which is older than David) also had the same or a similar meaning. It shows either two humans sitting facing one another in sexual intercourse, and also (or) the sun. And for some reason, it also ended up in the Cyrillic alphabet as letter Ж and in the Amazigh one as letter ⵣ (yaz).
I know that I probably won't find the truth here, but I would like to at least know how its called.
Here are some artifacts and symbols that I found on the internet containing its variations. This symbol is most likely older than 20 thousand years.
https://preview.redd.it/vgbilqtqyk5d1.jpg?width=740&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=845e4996b6d7383267a3ed3f5f22a7595d72b32b
https://preview.redd.it/lsu3wzbv1l5d1.png?width=360&format=png&auto=webp&s=df056bc1d9ceb751c92887933c9978604f118ff6
https://preview.redd.it/g0u1l8gz1l5d1.jpg?width=300&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=8557e0f247496a4b10c2278b2d0fca4d0d23e6b6
https://preview.redd.it/j4kgxve22l5d1.jpg?width=350&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=f1ca0c43352bf9e3317fd9d0e5f6ef7ce4d680b5
notice the asterisk

https://www.reddit.com/AmITheJerk/comments/1dbajz6/update_am_i_the_jerk_for_refusing_to_sit_next_to/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=mweb3x&utm_name=mweb3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
**CARLOS WAS 12**
The reception
Okay so I was seated pretty far away from him, fortunately. After the drive I was pretty calm because my mom told me there was a letter he wrote all those years ago for me to read when I was old enough. So when I get home, I can read it. I hope it'll give some closure.
Anyway getting back to the reception, I ate good food and when it got too loud for my liking I went and sat in the church lobby, he was there and we did make civil small talk but nothing much. He asked if I wanted candy and directed me to the candy bar. After I got my candy, my mom called me over for pictures but because my dad was cleaning we had to wait. My stomach was hurting bad because I had to take laxatives to solve a constipation and I was completely empty at that point. So I begged to go to the truck and after 5 mins of that she gave in and let me go. After a few hours, the reception ended (9 pm, started 5:30). We went back to the place we were staying and I fell asleep while on the phone with my boyfriend.
Carlos: 0
Me: 2

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Patreon Official Subreddit Series Wiki Royal Road
Two items — a crystal ball, and a green leather-bound notebook — sat benignly and idly atop of the black-robed professor’s desk.
The camera lingered on them, giving them what most may see as an undeserved moment in the spotlight.
But to those that knew, to the parties invested in this controversy, this little pause and dramatic zoom-in was accompanied by a hair-raising excitement… along with an untempered nervousness for what was to come.
It definitely caused the investigative duo on the other side of the screen some pause for thought; prompting them to stand intently, pondering both the orb and the notebook.
Ilunor, as far as I could tell, was entranced by the green notebook in particular. Though it wasn’t a trance born out of any positive emotion, but instead, one of abject horror.
“Recommended Reading Materials for the Studious Student.” Sorecar announced with a steady breath, prompting Ilunor to visibly flinch in his seat, as the man reached a finger over to point at the hand-scrawled title of the leather-bound notebook. That finger soon found itself carefully manipulating its pages, opening the cover first, before turning over the internal dust-cover to reveal letters and symbols written in High Nexian, but arranged in a manner the EVI simply could not translate.
“Error: Unable to Translate. Cause: Unrecognized and/or unintelligible organization of local script-forms.”
Yet despite this, it seemed as if both Sorecar and the Apprentice were able to draw something from its otherwise senseless pages. As despite being written haphazardly, with letters and pictograms arranged in no meaningful order, they were able to still draw meaning where the EVI couldn’t.
“Within these pages lie materials for the studious student. Materials are to be found within The Library, and are to be retrieved with great haste. May you make swift work of their contents, and may those after you find only ash in your wake. Seek, unlearn, and remove from the grip of the eternal entity, that which was once a gift but is now a curse. Seek, unlearn, and remove; with the fires of your passion, oh studious student.” Sorecar read aloud, managing to read something verbatim from the nonsensical pages of the book.
Ilunor’s eyes were practically glazed over at this point, as he began bringing his cape over across his chest, tucking his legs towards his chin in the process.
“This is it.” The apprentice announced with a half-cracked smile. “Please, keep going. I’m certain your skills of appraisal far exceed my own, Professor.”
Sorecar obliged by flipping the page, turning over to two pages of complete gibberish, once again watermarked by the EVI’s error message; but proving no challenge at all for the ever-inquisitive professor.
“Section One, A Tainted Reality: A Wretched Collection of Historical Affidavits During the Reconciliation and Reformation of Otherwise Lost Realities.” Sorecar paused, before turning towards the apprentice. “It lists an entire section’s worth of books, in titles held within spatial positions with reference to their potentialities within the ever-evolving library.”
Thacea’s features visibly flinched at that revelation, but similar to the apprentice in the footage, she refused to comment. At least not for now. Her eyes however betrayed a look of mild distress, which subsided somewhat as the apprentice urged the armorer to continue.
Which he did, as he flipped from page to page across the relatively small notebook, only pausing to read in between what he interpreted to be different sections and ‘chapters’.
“Section Two. The Unspoken War and the Treacherous Alliance.”
“Section Three. All surviving works from Alaroy Rital.”
The apprentice cocked her head, as if trying to recall some familiarity in that name. “Alaroy Rital.” She repeated. “I don’t recall hearing of such a name before.”
“Well his full name, as far as I recall, and vastly aided by the book is as follows: Alaroy Rital, Lord-Mayor of the Township of the Two Rivers, Slayer of the Dragon of the Grey Canyon, Repeller of the Tainted Blight of the Orsin, Liberator of the Aether, and Grand Master of the Elusian Guild Hall of Adventurers.” Sorecar responded succinctly, prompting the apprentice to once more clench her eyes shut in deep thought, before finally letting out a sigh of defeat.
“The name is both familiar yet foreign at the same time.” She finally admitted.
“As far as I recall, and mind you, my memory of those years are far from perfect… the man was a local hero of sorts. Though his record was besmirched by some controversy or another.” Sorecar offered, prompting the apprentice to finally shrug, giving up on this particular subject matter entirely.
“There are more sections, yes?”
“Correct.”
“Then let’s move on.”
Sorecar nodded promptly at that, flipping the pages over until he hit the next section.
“Section Four. A Sordid Account of the Most Bizarre of Newrealmer Arrivals: A Death By Harmonization and the Ensuing Investigation.”
That immediately got my attention, causing me to jolt forwards, prompting the armor to quickly follow as it automatically switched from the currently active in-armor-postural-readjustment mode, and back into its active configuration.
“Section Five. The Unfortunate Procedures Against Unruly Realms and the Instances in Which Such Procedures Were Incurred.”
The armorer paused after that, not necessarily due to its contents, but as if puzzled by what lay ahead in the next few final pages. In fact, he flipped back and forth between the pages soon after that, treading and retreading what were effectively the last five pages of the book. “There is an appendix which includes titles not covered by these sections, however it will take some time to read through them.”
“That’s enough for now, professor.” The apprentice offered, prompting the man to quickly pull back, closing the notebook with an unsatisfying thump. “We have our glowing wand.” The apprentice surmised. “The oeuvre of works which are no doubt the subject of this grand controversy. Now all we need to find is the contract which ties everything together.”
“I’m assuming you haven’t forgotten about our second item of interest?” Sorecar gestured towards the crystal ball.
“Of course not, professor. However, the fact we’ve found that book implies that we must be close to its dependent article.” The apprentice responded with a renewed sense of urgency, as she began using that same ornate magnifying glass in an attempt to further pick apart each and every nook and cranny of Mal’tory’s desk.
Part of me wanted to make some joke about how this was every unpaid intern’s dream, to be rummaging through your boss’ stuff.
But that part of me was completely buried underneath the confusion and dread that came with the revelations from within that little green book.
I… honestly didn’t know what I was expecting, but I felt like I’d been suckerpunched, with the wind being knocked right out of me from the implications of exactly what had been selectively purged from the library.
It was a struggle to process it all, which more or less made me dull out the more eccentric aspects of the apprentice’s investigation; as she unlocked drawer after drawer, pulling out pile after pile of magical nicknacks and more documents than what was possible from that finite amount of space.
Sorecar was clearly of the same opinion as the rest of us right now however, as he continued obsessing over the book, his hands once more trailing over to inspect its cryptic pages. The man seemed transfixed on the second and third sections in particular, though his featureless visor made it difficult to really pin down what his reactions were.
Yet throughout all of this, it was clear the reactions on the homefront were much, much more animated, as Ilunor was just about ready to pass out from the stress, and Thacea seemed about ready to burst at the seams if her featureless facade was of any indication.
“That was the book.” Ilunor finally chimed out, just as the narration through the recording had died down during the more tepid phase of the apprentice’s investigation. “I know it.”
“I thought your memories when it came to the whole Mal’tory book burning situation was lost, Ilunor?” Thalmin countered.
“It was. I mean, it still is. But I remember parts of that room. I vaguely recall the emergence of a book that I was forced to…” The Vunerian trailed off, as if struggling to piece together words.
“... to sign?” Thalmin offered in a surprisingly helpful tone which stood at odds with how he earlier regarded the Vunerian.
“No. No you imbecil-” The Vunerian paused, realizing his misstep as he backtracked from what would’ve otherwise been an expected response. “That wasn’t a book of binding. It’s not comparable to the yearbook, if that was where your assumptions were leading to, Prince Thalmin.” Ilunor clarified, gripping the armrests of his seat tight between his fingers.
It was about this point in time that I expected Thacea to chime in, to elaborate on the nature of the book with her encyclopedic knowledge on seemingly every aspect of the magical world.
But she didn’t.
Instead, her eyes remained practically glued to the screen, as I realized that whatever had been revealed thus far had hit much, much harder than I could’ve imagined.
Ilunor, as if taking note of this silence, elected to fill in for Thacea. “The book… is an adjacent artifact. It is, as the apprentice has noted, an eclectic oeuvre of works, a list if you will, to be bound to and referenced by a contract and a spell of binding. The book itself isn’t the binding agent, moreso the reference material by which the contract is hinged upon.”
“So what’s with the illegible text? Are they ciphers or some magical equivalent of it?” I gestured once more at the bird’s eye view offered by the drone, and the pages of indecipherable text currently beneath Sorecar’s hands.
“Those are anchor runes, earthrelamer.” Ilunor answered with a frustrated sigh. “It is frustrating to see them for what they are not. Frankly, it’s as if your sight-seers and memory-shards were designed to mimic the world as it is seen through the eyes of a particularly weak-fielded commoner.” The Vunerian went off, venting his frustrations through a rant before finally calming down. “But I digress. Those runes are referred to as anchors for a reason. For tethered to them are akin to pages of text to be openly read and deciphered within the manastreams. Granted, this form of writing is not common; moreso used for the purposes of contracts and other such magical binds.”
“And on the topic of contracts. I’m assuming that the contract… your contract, is what the Apprentice is currently rummaging for?” I gestured towards the screen once more, at the apprentice who was now buried ankle-deep in piles upon piles of books, documents, and an assortment of scrolls that criss-crossed across the room’s mahogany and carpeted floors.
“Unless she’s a complete nitwit, then I’d imagine so, yes.” Ilunor responded with his signature cattiness. “In any case, the fact she’s even trying proves that she’s barely above a fool anyways.” The Vunerian shrugged. “And before you ask, earthrealmer, let me preempt your question. The contract, at least on the professor’s end, has more than likely suffered the same fate as my own. Namely, its existence is more than certain to be dubious at best. What the apprentice will surely find will be nothing more than ash at the bottom of that bottomless drawer. Which… given its sheer size and scale, and the potential inhabitants within its limitless confines, will more than likely result in even ash being difficult if not impossible to find.”
There was… more than one point I wanted to raise with Ilunor’s statements. However, before I could address any of them, the elf in question finally spoke up once more; now surrounded by an entire archive’s worth of documents and nicknacks.
“Nothing.” Larial spoke with a sullen breath, taking a moment to steady herself as she made a point of not sitting on Mal’tory’s chair. “At least nothing that’s relevant to our case.” She continued, resting her palms flat against the green suede of the desk.
“Were you really expecting anything different, Apprentice?” Sorecar countered, having since moved from pondering the pages of the book to now pondering the depths of the crystal ball.
“I’d assumed the damage to the man hadn’t been so severe.” Larial admitted, alluding to something else that drew all of our collective attention. “When I first saw him in the healing ward… he looked… intact. You couldn’t even tell there was anything wrong with him.”
“And yet they called you of all people, to aid in the ritual.” The armorer surmised, with a tone of voice that now more resembled that of a fully fledged Academy Professor. His happy go lucky persona had subsided completely, at least for now, as he addressed Larial in a manner more akin to what I’d expected of the Dean. “You have been around the Academy for long enough to understand that calling upon the aid of apprentices is unprecedented. Which means that despite how things may seem on the surface, that lurking beneath the seemingly calm waters, is a hydrostorm of epic proportions.”
“This entire situation is unprecedented, professor.” Larial countered meekly. “But you are correct. It… must have been desperate if they required the aid of apprentices. I just… cannot fathom the fact that the professors must have…” The apprentice trailed off, her face scrunching up and breaking eye contact with the armorer as if too skittish to broach the next point.
Sorecar didn’t reply, nor did he complete her sentence for her, simply allowing her to recuperate and reorganize her thoughts herself.
“... brought the man back from the brink.” She managed out, offering what was in effect a euphemism that didn’t seem to sit right with the armorer, if his immediate head cock was of any indication.
“That is the only way you can explain the complete loss of a contract.” Sorecar reasoned. “You were hoping to find it, despite knowing well that it, amongst the rest of his contracts, have more than likely gone up in flames.” It was around that point that he walked around behind the desk, and reached down into the drawer the apprentice had been searching in. His arm sank impossibly deep, deeper than what should have been physically possible inside of that small and limited space. After a few moments, the man finally brought his hand back up, holding within it what appeared to be fine specks of ash that he allowed to filter back down into the dark depths of the seemingly bottomless drawer. “And there you have it — ash. Most of it has no doubt already been consumed by the bottom-feeders. However, what remains is enough to account for what is perhaps more contracts than most would form in their lives.”
The man stood back up soon after, before once more taking his place at the front of the desk.
“Well, I believe that answers our prior speculations on Auris Ping’s potential relations, contractual or otherwise, with Professor Mal’tory.” Thalmin growled out, punctuating the moment of silence within the footage; which soon continued with a resonant sigh from the apprentice.
“I guess, in a way, I was trying to find the contract not so much because of my assigned task, but because I wanted to perhaps prove to myself that the situation wasn’t as dire as my intuition leads me to believe. The loss of all these contracts can only mean one thing.” Larial paused, once more trying to find the strength inside of her to face whatever facts were self-evident in this case. “The man was lost.” She finally managed out through a shaky breath. “His soul must have departed from his mortal coil. And yet…”
“... and yet he remains.” Sorecar surmised.
“They must have re-tethered it before I arrived that night.” The apprentice shot back. “But I felt nothing different when they asked me to aid in the mana-channeling processes. This whole situation is just…” She sighed, prompting Sorecar to cock his head.
“Unprecedented?”
“Yes.” The apprentice once more admitted, sinking her face into her hands and taking a moment to process it all, more or less falling into the same camp all of us were currently in. “Moreover, it brings up a very disturbing question.”
“Which is?”
“If his soul was truly untethered, even for a split second… how exactly were they able to retether it? Or more specifically, through what means are they using to permanently retether his soul to his mortal coil?”
This question seemed to cause some level of concern from Sorecar, as his answer soon demonstrated. “There are… ways of doing so that aren’t exclusive to being spellbound to armor.” The man offered under a dour breath. “Especially if the body is… fresh, in a manner of speaking. Though it requires the use of-” He stopped, halting himself from going down what was clearly a darkening path. “I apologize for prompting this rather… dark and dreary subject matter, Apprentice.” Sorecar offered, as that empathetic, kinder side of him returned without much prompting.
“It’s quite alright. It… it needed to be said, if we are to complete this investigation with any degree of professionalism.” The apprentice concluded with a small smile. “Whatever the case may be, it is clear that we are unable to procure the contract through which the perpetrator of the library’s burning was bound. We have, however, undeniable proof of Professor Mal’tory’s involvement with the scandal.” She pointed at the green notebook. “And of course, a potential interloper who may or may not have been a part of this conspiracy; thereby expanding this from a mere Academy matter, to one which could implicate others beyond its walls.” She pointed at the crystal ball. “Have you discovered anything from your observations thus far, Professor?” The apprentice inquired, prompting the man to nod, as he knelt down to eye-level, pondering the orb from desk-height.
“The inherent limitations of the Echovale make it so that it’s near impossible to transcribe anything following the cessation of a communique.” Sorecar began. “Though of course, you knew this, and hoped that because I am perhaps one of the greatest armorers to have ever lived, that I would be able to aid in this impossible endeavor, hmm?” The armorer’s tone of voice had more or less resumed that flighty, happy-go-lucky one I knew him for.
The apprentice, hearing this, could only smile awkwardly in response. “I wouldn’t have put it that… bluntly, professor. But I do indeed have faith in your ability to make the impossible, well… probable, at the least.”
“Hmph! Well, I couldn’t pin a face or a name, but I was able to pin a definite location if that helps.” The man offered.
“Any stray piece of information will help tremendously, professor.”
“The Crownlands.” He answered without a hint of hesitation, prompting the Apprentice to raise both of her brows up high.
“That’s as far as I am able to draw from the residual echoes within the vale.” He tapped at the ball, generating a series of satisfying clinks in the process.
“So the man wasn’t acting alone. Or rather, perhaps he was consulting someone.” The apprentice pondered. “Then again, that final communique could very well be with Lord Lartia—” The apprentice paused, before placing both palms softly across her throat. “—may his soul rest in peaceful slumber.” Following another moment of silence, the apprentice’s hands soon shifted towards the ball. “In any case, if it isn’t Lord Lartia, then who could it possibly be? Maybe we should…” The apprentice suddenly stopped; as if realizing the dangers of diving any deeper into this growing conspiracy. “No.” She quickly corrected herself. “Whatever the case may be, this is probably now completely out of my purview. I was assigned to collect any evidence I deemed to be relevant to recent happenings, and I believe this should suffice.”
“Whatever you believe is best, apprentice.” Sorecar acquiesced, prompting the apprentice to slowly, but surely, pack the archive’s worth of documents, books, and scrolls all back into the drawer using nothing but telekinetic spells.
This left just the crystal ball, and the little green book, both of which the apprentice promptly pocketed into a small pouch, before placing it somewhere beneath her cloak.
“Though on that note…” Sorecar began, pointing towards the apprentice’s cloak. “If I may ask, how do you plan on divvying up these finite pieces of evidence?”
This caught the apprentice off-guard, as her mouth opened, but no response came through.
“Moreover, are you even obligated to hand in this evidence? Or are you only expected to write a report to all parties involved?” Sorecar continued, pressing the matter further, causing the apprentice to stop mid-stride. “Because if primary evidence isn’t explicitly required, might I offer my services as a master forger?” The man spoke with a hint of mischievousness, the duality of the word perhaps translating equally well despite the language barrier.
“I may need to contact my superiors to ask if a… copy will be satisfactory to their needs. I believe not, but… we shall see. In any case, I am due to submit the evidence along with my report no later than the end of next week. As such, this should give me ample time to organize my findings, which is especially convenient given the roster of duties I am expected to cover over the next few days.” The apprentice took a moment to pinch the bridge of her nose, halting her rambles as she steadied herself with a sigh. “But I digress, I believe I will take you up on that offer, Professor Pliska.”
“It would be my pleasure to welcome you into my domain, apprentice.”
The rest of the footage consisted of small talk between the pair, with nothing in particular standing out as the topics being addressed soon turned from high-stakes espionage, and back into faculty banter.
Yet despite that, none of us broke the silence that now dominated the boring trip back. Not even as the footage came to a complete stop, and there was nothing more left to play.
I leaned back against the armor, eliciting a series of creaks from the couch below me, echoing across the high-ceilinged room and disrupting the tentative peace that came with this ominous silence.
“This explains… a lot.” Thalmin offered, finally breaking the silence with a tentative tone of voice. “It explains your contract, and its abrupt cessation.” He continued, turning towards Ilunor. “It explains Mal’tory, or at least, his current lack of public appearances. And it reveals to us exactly what he was trying to hide from you, Emma.” The lupinor eventually turned towards me. “And I think the sections of the library, selectively pruned, are self-explanatory as well.”
“Section four, and section five, at least.” I replied shortly thereafter. “I have no idea who or what Alaroy Rital has to hide in section three, and don’t even get me started on section two, let alone section one.” It was at that point that I turned towards Thacea, who let out a sharp exhale upon me bringing up section one.
“The removal of all information relevant to… and I quote — Tainted Realities — speaks volumes to the inherent fears of the Nexus. Though I know not what specifically they may fear from your discovery of its deep and now-lost lore.” Thacea offered through a pensive gaze. “There are many rumors, legends that come with the phrase Tainted Reality. Though most are mythical; epics of long lost eras that dwell between the blurry line that exists between history and legend. Perhaps the records within the library were pieces of irrefutable evidence that would’ve shed light on this nebulous subject matter. But even so… that begs the question… why? Why would they hide what is effectively a non-issue when it comes to your discovery of its lore? Taint, and more specifically, the concept of a Tainted Reality, is something that is inconsequential in the contemporary world. Its history, even if it proves to be true, is neither a disruptive political element, nor a practical tool for war, that could be used in countering the Nexus.” The avinor’s explanations were clear, concise, and yet they belied something personal that she clearly wasn’t broaching.
And I wasn’t about to dig either, not when this topic very clearly hit close to home for her.
“This leaves the second subject matter then.” I offered, giving the avinor an off-ramp towards a potentially more palatable topic.
“The Unspoken War and the Treacherous Alliance?”
“Correct.” I nodded.
“That… I have no knowledge of.” The avinor admitted, prompting me to turn to both the lupinor and the Vunerian for answers.
“Don’t look at me, earthrealmer, I’m the one who lost all memories on the subject, remember?” Ilunor countered.
“I’m afraid I’m as in the dark as you are on this one, Emma.” Thalmin replied with a loud huff, leaving me with perhaps more questions than answers at this point.
“Right then.” I nodded. “Well, regardless, as disquieting, confusing, and disturbing as these revelations have been, they are exactly that — revelations.” I took a moment to stand up, resting both hands on my hips, as if adopting Ilunor’s more theatrical approach to things. “We started today off with no intel on Mal’tory, with no idea how we were going to complete The Library’s Seekership questline, and no knowledge on exactly where we stood in this game. We’re ending today off with a firm grasp on exactly what we need to do, what exactly was scorched in the library, and a tentative understanding on Mal’tory’s fate. I’d say that’s an incredible step forward, even if the answers we now have are leading to even more questions.”
“Reality is often filled with disturbing truths, but only when we acknowledge them, can we act to change them.” Thacea offered.
“Here here!” Thalmin reaffirmed through a firm stomp, standing up tall and ready.
“While certain revelations come as disappointments… namely the survival of Professor Mal’tory… it is indeed somewhat satisfying to hear that the man is at the very least suffering for his actions.” The little thing spoke maliciously, as he too stood up. This prompted a look of worry to form amidst all three of us, but instead of reacting accordingly, he instead displayed an expression of confusion. “What? The man was a monster! He actively antagonized not only me, but this entire group! Surely you also feel at least some sense of satisfaction at the consequences of his actions catching up to him!”
“The delight in an enemy’s defeat, best comes from the resistance of the blade against his body. Not from the suffering incurred from happenstance.” Thalmin countered, whilst Thacea and I refused to entertain that line of thought, as I quickly placed a palm across my forehead, bonking it once again in the process.
“Right, well, here’s the game plan. We now have a clear target to complete our first objective — the notebook. We grab that, hand it in to the library, and presto, we accomplish the Seekership questline. Now comes the difficult part… how exactly do we do that?” I turned to the group, as offers and suggestions finally came flying in.
“Take advantage of your life debt?” Ilunor offered.
“I wouldn’t take advantage of that card just yet, Ilunor. Not if we have other options.” Thacea countered.
“What if we steal it?” Thalmin proposed.
“Thievery isn’t a diplomatic approach, Thalmin.” Thacea shot back with a glare.
“Well, Emma here was able to grapple her way, through manaless means, across the outside of the castle towards the apprentice whilst she was in the medical wing. I’m sure we can pull something else off in a similar capacity!” The lupinor countered.
“No, Thalmin. As much as I would like to try, I believe it might be best if we try a more diplomatic approach.” I offered, prompting the three to cock their heads.
“We could just ask, right?”
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(Author’s Note: And there we have it! The first step towards the completion of the Library's questline! We've found exactly what we were looking for, the list of books that were ordered to be put to the dragon flame by Mal'tory. With that being said however, a new series of questions arises... exactly why were these books targeted in particular? Moreover, what exactly was lost as a result? These questions and more will continue to linger in the back the gangs' minds as we push forward! Especially as we now find ourselves in the midst of another conundrum, exactly how are we going to get the book to the library! Regardless, this is still a massive step forward, and one that will surely bring Emma and Ilunor closer towards addressing the first phase of their intertwined fates with the library! I hope you guys enjoy! :D The next Two Chapters are already up on Patreon if you guys are interested in getting early access to future chapters!)
[If you guys want to help support me and these stories, here's my ko-fi ! And my Patreon for early chapter releases (Chapter 84 and Chapter 85 of this story is already out on there!)]

I was isolated as a child/teen. I faced racism alone and did not have supportive/loving parents. It was so severe that I self harmed and attempted suicide multiples times. I don't know how to cope with it and looking for any advice/support from anyone who was able to overcome it.
Childhood
I had an older half brother and sister that were 20+ years older. I grew up in my household as a single child. I was close with my family and hung out with friends everyday. Although I was not able to stay for dinner, attend sleepovers, or go on trips with friends I was still content. I was involved in activities such as violin, piano, and writing. I wasn't allowed to join sports although I desperately wanted to join basketball or softball. If i asked, it resulted in a fight. I found it weird that I did not have my own bedroom when friends came over and asked where my room was. I had slept in my parents bedroom up until 4th grade. One day I just started sleeping in the spare room which aggravated my parents. They assumed I wanted my own space to hide secrets from them. I still find this disturbing and strange to this day.
Junior Year
My mom began to lash out on me. I was expected to immediately shower, change into pajamas, and begin studying after school. I was not allowed to see friends or even speak to them on the phone. If i wasn't studying I was expected to clean. If I asked where the vacuum was, pass the salt, or even ask what the weather was I would get screamed at. I was told at a young age how stupid I was, not smart enough, ugly, too fat, and how my priorities were wrong that I don't need friends. They began to go through my belongings including my journal and trash. They threw out pictures of friends or anything they did not approve of. I cried everyday. My brother tried to help by taking me out of the house to see movies or go to the mall. Even that was a battle to convince them to go out with my brother. We would secretly bring a friend so I could spent some time with them out of school. Even under my brothers supervision we were timed. I was never out for more than 2-3 hours.I tried out for Cheerleading secretly and forged their signature to join. I was terrified to break the news that I had made the team. I was punished and even physically abused. I would try to cover the bruises by covering my face with my hair or buying cheap foundation. I had to lie and say that it would go against me if I quit the team. I went as far as printing a fake letter stating that if I quit the team it would go against my record. That was the only way they allowed me to stay on the team. I began cutting by the end of 7th grade. They were aware and ignored it.
High School - My darkest days
This was it for me. I was not allowed to join cheerleading again. No friends at all. A junior took interest in me and would call me after school. That was destroyed immediately and strict rules were set in place where I could not speak to any boys. They considered everyone an enemy. I would tell them I wanted a normal life like other students. They would scream and tell me not to compare myself to the way white people live. I began to fall behind in classes, I quit violin, and stopped taking care of myself. I had lost interest in everything that made me happy including writing, art, and music. Like a caged animal I started spiraling out. Drinking, partaking in sexual activities, experimenting with drugs, developing an eating disorder, and sneaking out of school. I was so isolated that the only way I could do all of this was by sneaking out of the house.
They loosened up in my junior year and let me see friends but they were never allowed at the house. Same rules applied where I could not attend sleepovers and be home by sundown. They were never happy with me seeing friends though. Sometimes I debated staying home instead of seeing friends to avoid an argument. Once they found marijuana it was the end for me. I was beaten, thrown to the ground and strangled. They called the police on me stating I was on drugs and hitting them. I was arrested and drug tested. Results were clean. I was brought to the courthouse where DCF spoke to me and told me my parents were willing to forgive me and take me home. In this moment I said I would not go home. What changed my mind was that they said I would be taken to a foster home where I would not be allowed to have contact with anyone including my brother and sister. I was ready to leave all my belongings behind if it meant getting away from my parents but it scared me that I would lose contact with my siblings. Ultimately I went home but my mom was not allowed to be in the house or contact me for 3 months.
My mom returned home and I thought things would be better. She had called everyone in my phone book and told my friends parents I was on drugs and confronted them for selling it to me. Some of the people in my phone book I wasn't even close with but they literally called EVERYONE. Ultimately every parent cut the cord with me along with their kids. Gossip spread and I was labeled the bad kid by parents and the snitch/traitor by all students. I was now labeled the crazy chink with the psycho parents. People would leave me hate messages telling me to go back to China even though i'm filipino. They told everyone in the family including other states/countries that I was a terrible teen who has a drug and alcohol addict. They went as far to say that I abuse them. It was my darkest time. I had no friends in a predominantly white neighborhood facing racism, parents who wanted to destroy my life, and now an entire family that hated me. They had accomplished their goal of isolating me and making everyone hate me. I was truly alone. To this day it haunts me.
Things became progressively worse. I was uncomfortable at school and at home. I did not feel safe anywhere. My suicidal thoughts grew stronger everyday. My weight plummeted to 88 lbs where I was still called fat. The only thing that kept me alive was my dog which they ended up placing in a shelter while I was at school. I cried holding a knife to my neck screaming that they had ripped everything away from me and that I would rather be dead. This was the only time they let me seek help. We went to 7 different therapists. Each one only lasted 2 sessions. 1st session was me alone. 2nd session would include my parents which always ended in the same result. Therapists telling them there was nothing wrong with me, that I needed to remain being social, avoid isolation, keep active/exercise, and that there needed to be better communication within the family. My parents never agreed with the end result and kept passing me around hoping to get a different answer. The answer they wanted is that it was all my fault and I was a bad person.
I was placed in a mental ward with other troubled teens when I tried to run away. They threw my in the car and had me put there. I was in and out after one night. I will never forget the people who worked there. They all agreed that I did not belong there and what happened was a mistake. They shed some light and told me that one day this was all be behind me and to move forward the best I can by flying under my parents radar.
I ended up going to a Christian school my senior year due to bullying at school (including my old friends). Even teachers looked at me differently because everyone thought I was a terrible human in some way. One teacher actually approached me asking if I told my parents he sold me drugs (did my parents contact teachers too?). Moving to a Christian school ended up appeasing my parents but once I turned 18 I left the house for good.
Current
In my 30s I still face mental and manipulative abuse. I am straight edge and try to live life normal. I've had terrible relationships which lasted longer than they should have. I stayed with them knowing if I didn't I would have to run back to my abusive parents. Ultimately I've had too and I was blamed for my ex boyfriends flaws. It was always my fault and not theirs even if they abused me. They always side with men. I have tried to talk to them but the result is always the same. Yelling and scapegoating. They will branch and change the subject stating "I am tired", "I fell today", "you are killing me", "you are ungrateful" "you are crazy". I became a psych RN to help people because I don’t want people who suffer with mental illness to go through it alone like I did.
Due to my past I have trouble socializing, a bad temper, trusting others, and expressing my feelings. I also still deal with body dysmorphia. I feel like I was robbed of any potential in life. To this day I wonder if my AP truly ever cared. What confuses me is that I was spoiled growing up but it was always used against me. I would've rather been poor and had friends/family.

Cue a cold, rainy Tuesday evening. I was stranded on the side of the road, my car refusing to ignite its fiery heart due to a nasty surprise of a dead battery. I had an umbrella, a cranky car, and a dead phone. A recipe for delightful disaster, wouldn’t you agree?
In my desperation, my mind stirred. It began to draw upon the well of past experiences, searching for a makeshift solution to my current predicament. I thought of how I once jump-started my neighbor’s car, using nothing but a pair of spare cables and a little common sense. "But wait," my mind countered, "Don't be hasty. Think it through."
That, folks, is your brain running a heuristic program. It’s like a mental shortcut – quickly applying learned experiences to find an immediate solution. And it’s usually a darn good one. But as Sherlock Holmes wisely said, "It is a capital mistake to theorize before you have all the evidence…"
So, instead of blindly applying the heuristic, I took a moment to mentally simulate – vividly picturing – the entire process of jump-starting my car. Step by step. Wire by wire. Spark by spark.
In this mental run-through, I spotted a hitch. I remembered that my umbrella had a metallic wireframe. And the last thing I wanted to do was to turn myself into a human lightning rod, by fiddling with car batteries in the rain.
I concluded that the safest and wiser course of action was to seek shelter and wait out the storm, while subtly hinting to the occasional passerby about my damsel-in-distress situation.
Both the heuristic and the mental simulation played an important role here. The heuristic provided a quick solution, but the mental simulation helped me foresee potential hazards, thus leading to a safer alternate solution.
Oh, and by the way, this is a hypothetical situation. You didn't honestly think I'd be stranded on a cold, rainy roadside with a dead car and phone, typing all this on my laptop, did you? I mean, doesn't everyone know that keyboards and rain don't mix? 😉
Moral of our little story: A heuristic is a great jump-start, but never underestimate the power of a mental run-through before you take the leap. It might just save you from being, oh I don't know, electrocuted.
Stay safe, smart, and dry my friends! 🌧️

As part of my evening routine, I get my five-year-old daughter Sophie ready for her bath. I bought some new soap from a farmer’s market on the other side of town claiming to make extra bubbles, and it’s pink, so I know she’ll love it. I fill the tub with warm water and pour it in. Wow, this stuff is really pink and the bubbles nearly spill out of the tub. I’m happy with my purchase, feeling like a proud mom.
I gently plop Sophie in the colorful water as she hums softly, looking up and smiling at me.
“What song are you singing, sweetie?”
“I made it up.” She says with a grin.
She used to hate taking a bath, but she’s really come around on them this year. She splashes around having fun, and I realize I should get her toys for her.
I turn away for a second to open the cabinet, grabbing some foam alphabet letters she likes. I’m glad she likes them since they’re educational as well. Gently, I fish out a rubber ducky from the cabinet for good measure, too. Turning back to face my daughter, I notice the splashing has stopped. She’s no longer in the tub.
A wave of dread washes over me. How could this happen? I just saw her in my periphery two seconds ago. She couldn’t have left my sight. I would have heard her. I’m in panic mode now, living out every mom’s worst nightmare. I call out to her, when she suddenly submerges from seemingly thin air.
What the hell?! Something is not right. She’s somehow back in the tub. Only she’s almost unrecognizable. I gasp. I can see right through her and she has a pink hue to her. How is this possible? I flail my arms, reaching out to grab her. Sophie’s skin is slippery to the touch like slime. I recoil in horror.
“Baby?”
She stares back at me with a frightened look on her face, before slipping back into depths of the tub.
“No, come back! Sophie! Baby!!”
I violently dunk my hands into the tub, reaching for her yet only grabbing bubbles. Now sobbing, I throw my hands on my head. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. Why is this happening?
“Mommy?” she says, muffled by the water.
I let out a loud gasp.
“Baby?! Are you ok?! Mommy’s here!” I stare in sheer horror as my daughter returns to the surface. Somehow, her entire body is now made of bubbles, except for her eyes and internal organs, which now float amongst these bubbles.
“Mommy, what’s happening?!” she says, crying, though I can’t see the tears. The more she cries, the more the bubbles pop. I try my absolute hardest to console her, desperately trying to get the bubbles to stop popping.
“Baby, it’s ok I’m here.” I say crying so hard snot runs down my face. I scream. The bubbles won’t stop popping. They won’t stop.