Borden grating

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By Lawrence Meyer May 13, 1984
In the past year The Washington Post has carried seven stories about young people from this area accused or convicted of killing one or both of their parents. Parricide—the murder of a parent by a child—violates one of the most fundamental taboos of civilization. We choose to avert our eyes, preferring not to ask:
Why?
Could it happen in my house?
That children fantasize about killing their parents is not unusual or even abnormal. Almost every child at some point in his or her young life has thought about killing a father or mother.
[…]
Parricide arouses both repulsion and fascination in us. One index of our fascination with parricide is that 11 books, five plays, two television dramas, an opera and a ballet have been written since Abby and Andrew Borden were brutally murdered in their Fall River, Mass., home on Aug. 4, 1892. Lizzie Borden, the only person ever charged with the crimes, is the focus of these works.
Even though Lizzie Borden was acquitted (and for good reason), her legend persists in enduring contrast to our own ambivalent feelings toward our parents.
Compared with the 20,000 or so homicides that occur in this country every year, parricide is a relatively infrequent—but not rare—event. Rough killed every year in this country by their offspring, but parricide remains a closet issue, reported but—like child abuse 10 years ago—rarely discussed.
What frightens us about parricide is its occurrence in seemingly "normal" families […] They are presented almost as random events, as though angry gods visited their fury on the parents through the children. Neighbors and family are shocked, unable to explain or imagine the cause. We are left to wonder what psychological virus afflicted the child.
The taboo against parricide is strong—even stronger than the proscription of incest—but some children do kill their parents. Several psychiatrists interviewed for this article commented that the surprise is not that some children kill their parents, but that the number is not greater. The reason the number is as small as it is, apparently, is because the taboo is so powerful. About 1.4 per cent of the murders committed every year in the United States are parricides. This statistic was not available a decade ago. Until the last 10 years or so, psychiatrists paid little attention to parricide even though rarer events were studied. Studies of only a few dozen parricides have been reported by psychiatrists and psychologists.
Greater attention to child abuse […] and other problems within the family, however, has led to closer but still limited study of parricide.
An apparently small number of parricides are committed by psychotics and children under the influence of mind-altering drugs. The rest seem to be committed by two types of children:
* Victims of overt, physical abuse.
* Victims of a subtler, sometimes covert and unseen psychological abuse that may seem to an outsider to be benign at worst or even "good" for the child.
Parricide does not occur in a vacuum. The child who kills a parent is unlikely to be the only troubled member of the family, whatever the facade the family shows to outsiders, according to Dr. Neil Blumberg, a staff psychiatrist at Maryland's Clifton T. Perkins State Hospital in Jessup. "I think I can almost say categorically that I have never seen a murderer who has come unscathed through his adolescence and childhood in terms of emotional or physical abuse and problems in the family setting."
Understanding why a child who has been beaten kills a parent is not so difficult. But psychological abuse leaves no welts, poses no apparent threat to life or limb and often isn't discernible to the outsider. As a result, according to Dennis Harrison, a forensic psychologist who estimates that he has interviewed 20 children who have murdered one or both parents, the murder of a psychologically abusive parent leaves the outside world baffled.
"We see more and more of that," Harrison said, "and all the stories are the same. The neighbors say, 'Can't be.' Classmates say 'Never!'
"They all describe the kid as quiet, maybe a little withdrawn, had some friends, doing okay in school. He's not a problem kid, or she's not a problem kid. Family seems to be functioning okay… Everybody's shocked because none of the pathology is obvious. If you asked that kid before it happened, or asked the parents before it happened, nobody would say there's a problem."
After the murder, neighbors frequently describe the dead parent as "overly strict" or a "stern disciplinarian." These accounts, Harrison said, grossly underestimate what in fact has occurred.
According to Harrison and Blumberg, an intimate, dependent bond between parent and child produces a particularly insidious relationship, where, in Blumberg's words, literally "You can't live with 'em and you can't live without 'em."
Harrison used the term "symbiotic" to describe a relationship in which the parent sees the child as a mere extension, a kind of human robot directed and controlled by the parent. The child is made to feel the parent's emotions, trained to want what the parent wants, directed to fulfill the parent's dreams. "The child is actually living the parent's life for the parent… The parent is getting the kid to do the thing the parent either wants to do in life or wanted to do and never did." Symbiotic relationships do not begin when a child is a teen-ager, but years before.
"It's not a matter of—at 13—being too hard a disciplinarian. It started when he was 3, 4, 5 on up. You have totally dominated that child's thoughts, feelings. The child has been kind of a blob, totally created, all the external influences kept to an absolute minimum—peers, outside interests—you've allowed him to be interested in what you're interested in.
"Within the family he's had no rights to any emotions other than the ones you say are all right to feel." In effect, what the symbiotic parent tells the child, Harrison said, is, "You can never be angry at me… You can only love me." Disappointment is out. So is fear of the parent. "You can never acknowledge the terror that sometimes I induce in you. You just have to smile and be my little mirror image," Harrison said.
A tight bond, like that between master and slave, develops. And that closeness also involves a great deal of hostility by the child for the parent. "The tighter the bond, the more that kid hates that parent. The more the kid hates the parent, the more the kid identifies with the parent: That's the rule in psychology. You always identify with the aggressor because the aggressor's got the power in the family."
Real-life examples often fail to clearly illustrate textbook cases. A case handled by Judge Femia a year ago provides an extreme example of the kind of psychological abuse found in a symbiotic relationship. Andrew Chi was a 61-year-old physicist with NASA. Although Chi demanded that his 20-year-old son, David, meet exceptionally high academic and intellectual standards, Femia said in an interview in which he described the Chi family life, the older Chi never commended his son for his accomplishments. The father refused to allow his wife or son to initiate conversation at the dinner table. Laughter was not permitted in the house. The father once broke the legs of a puppy given to his son as a gift after the puppy failed to respond to the father's call. The father withheld or took away grocery money from his wife when he disapproved of something she had done. All in all, Femia said, the father was a "psychological beast" who submitted his family to "terrible, terrible psychological torture."
While home from college, and without apparent provocation, David Chi—who had no history of arguing or fighting with his father—stabbed him to death after dinner. Expert testimony established that the son did not recall the act afterwards. Femia said he believed that testimony.
"I could say that in almost all the cases where you dominate a child like that you're going to create a tremendous pool of hostility and hatred, not just the usual anger," Harrison said. "What you'll create is a pool of seething rage because nobody likes to be that dependent… Even people who choose to be dependent hate it."
The parent in a symbiotic relationship views the child with hatred, according to Harrison. "The parents are these very angry people down deep. It's an angry thing to do, to create dependency, control someone to that extent, take away their individuality and never let it develop. That's an effect of their own rage. These are rage-filled people."
In addition, said Harrison, "What gets communicated is, 'You're no good… If I have to create you and if I have to control you, what does that say about you?'
At some point, over some relatively unimportant event, the tension may become unbearable for the child. In that situation, the result may be either murder or suicide. "There's a very fine line frequently between suicide and a homicide," said Blumberg. […]
That parricide should be committed by quiet, mild-mannered children in some cases comes as no surprise to psychiatrists and psychoogists. Dr. Emanuel Tanay of Detroit's Wayne State University, and other psychiatrists describe a type of personality they call "aggressophobic." The aggressophobe does not have homicidal fantasies, but rather appears calm on the surface. The aggressophobe does not indulge in aggressive tendencies because of a deep fear—which may well be justified—that if he or she lets go, the force released will be uncontrollable. "Something is cooking beneath the surface," Tanay said. "Since it's not accessible, it cannot be managed. It's subterranean."
When the internal tension ultimately becomes unbearable and an incident triggers a reaction, the violence is likely to be far beyond a single, killing blow. "Usually," said Harrison, "it's an out-of-control thing. Needless violence, unnecessary violence… When they blow, it's like 10, 12 years of seething rage, and suddenly the overcontrol that's been there is cracked and then there's no control, no gray area."
Lizzie Borden's legend persists—despite her innocence—because our relationship to our parents is ambivalent, Tanay said. "Here is an expression that's unambivalent. That's fascinating because here is something that we have to keep in a closet—not that it ever would become dangerous to a parent… We're not going to do it. We go and watch things that are interesting to us, but we're inhibited from doing it."
In some cases, of course, the child is not inhibited from killing a parent. Indeed, the child may even plan the crime. Although the act is premeditated, Tanay and others say, research indicates that the children are not criminal "types." The child who kills even a physically abusive parent has come to the end of a cul-de-sac. Provocation, according to Tanay, is not enough to trigger a child to kill a parent. "There has to be a kind of helplessness." Shelley Post, a clinical social worker and supervisor on the forensic ward of Virginia's Western State Hospital in Staunton, said that when other family members, neighbors and the community turn a blind eye and a deaf ear, the child who killed his or her parent "felt stuck. They had to take over."
Why an overtly abused child might kill a parent poses little mystery. Tanay has written that some parricides have "a large element of self-preservation." Post said in an article that parricide becomes a "reasonable conclusion" in an "untenable situation."
Tanay described the case of 14-year-old Louis who killed his father. According to Tanay, the boy was one of five children living with their father. "The father was described as abusive and cruel towards the children, allowing them no privileges and punishing them severely for the slightest infractions." Louis, the oldest, reportedly received most of the abuse. He ran away to his mother on several occasions, only to return after the father threatened to kill the other children if Louis did not come back.
After planning the murder, Louis killed his father. Tanay said that when he interviewed Louis after the killing, "He described his desperate efforts to secure help from family members and official agencies, but everyone rebuffed him, unwilling to accept his descriptions of his father's sadistic behavior."
In Louis' case, and several more like it that have been reported, the family members are grateful to the murderer afterward for giving them a new lease on life, and the murderer feels relief rather than remorse for his deed.
Although these crimes seem almost inevitable in retrospect, most psychiatrists and psychologists agree that parricide cannot be predicted. What can be said, however, is that many of these murders, although not predictable, might be preventable. "I think," Post said, "that the family and the larger community are all part of one system. An intervention has to be made somewhere. If someone had stepped in and done something, it would have altered the course of events. But we don't." As a result, Post has written, when the time comes for allotting blame, the child pulling the trigger to kill a parent "is not the only individual responsible for the crime; the family and community are also part of the problem."
All in all, though, the insights of psychologists and psychiatrists into parricide remain hazy and, in some cases, conflicting. Judges, who hold major responsibility for figuring out what to do about parricides once they are convicted, seem equally divided and uncertain in their views. Their sentences range from harshness to hand-slaps. Some parent-killers have drawn prison sentences for cases where witnesses testified the dead parent terrorized one or more members of the family. Others, in similar situations, have been released on probation.
Femia gave David Chi probation with a requirement that he perform 800 hours of community service. Jailing Chi would have ["accomplished] nothing," Femia said. Nine months later, however, 16-year-old Lisa Casella, who pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit murder, received a 14-year prison sentence from Femia. Casella, Femia said, participated in the "planned, cold, deliberate murder" of her father, whose only crime was "excessive doting" on his daughter. The sentence, Femia said, was not given for deterrent purposes. "She was being punished, plain and simple, for the deliberate act of murder."
Femia had rejected testimony to the effect that Casella and her father were locked in a symbiotic relationship and that she was being smothered by it, however affectionate her father might appear to the outside world. "I really think," Femia said, "that doctors can sit down and after the fact, go back and find sufficient medical evidence to create a psychological path that leads the person to murder… and there could be no other outcome. I don't accept that. I think there could have been another outcome. There could have been another path, in fact."
But how does a family with a problem get off the path it's on? Families where parricide occurs are locked into their own drama. They need an outsider to intervene and break the cycle. The dilemma is that our society puts a premium on privacy, resisting the intervention of public agencies in the home.
The law of averages says that Femia will never have another parricide case come before him. It defies the odds that he has had two in his career, much less two in the same year. But, if a case like 14-year-old Louis' were to come before him, Femia—a former prosecutor and a self-described conservative—says he has no policy to fall back on to guide him in sentencing. The law, Femia said, does not recognize a doctrine of premeditated self-defense—anticipating a life-threatening situation and killing to avoid it. "Under the law, you must wait until the moment arises. You cannot anticipate," Femia said. But, he went on, the slaying of a brutal parent who beats, terrorizes and threatens to kill his children presents a judge with mitigating considerations. "Facts such as those are things that judges have to consider," Femia said. "It will depend on whether or not I am convinced—the judgment of the judge."
\reposter note: fuck this judge, & abolish the courts*

Tara Russell -
Just...annoying from the start. Constantly making decisions without telling Brandon, whines about everything even when she gets her way, always making a problem out of nothing, is generally a brat that's never happy with what she gets. It's...hard to watch and makes us feel super sorry for Brandon. Love you Cassie, but you made a HUGE mistake with this one.
Sam Radford -
Starts abrasive, but still likeable. Becomes more loveable through the series as he adapts to small town living and Cassies nature. Good dad. Only complaint; one episode he says "Oh yea, when Cassie told me..." referring to her being a witch, it's like, WHAT?? When the hell did that happen? Why was there not an episode about that!?
Nick Radford -
Typical rebellious teen. Has good development though. Good story of him going back and forth between parents as they are "competing". As a child of divorce I feel that. He's a good kid at heart.
Abigail Pershing -
Unknown. You can't decide if you do or don't like her. She's selfish, yet always learns her lesson and accepts it. Acts like caring about others is a chore, but shows private happiness from doing so. Won't admit she looks up to Cassie. Ultimately I think she's a good person that just doesn't like to appear "vulnerable".
Martha Tinsdale -
Is a bit...grating. Starts annoying in the movies, but mellowed out in the show. Made her more likeable, yet still a familiar with her manurisms which made her more relatable for the show as one of those people we all know at least one of in real life.
Stephanie Borden -
Loveable and sweet person, but unfortunately always comes off as desperate. You're a great character! The writers just did you dirty by making you always looking for a man.
Derek Sanders -
Was always loved from the movies and equally as loved in the show. The clueless deputy. The kind and bumbling guy that you can't help but be on his side.
Is there someone I'm missing as a main character? Let me know! And if you feel the same or have a different opinion on them!

There is a character limit on posts, so I thought I'd add the transfers of schools starting with the letters N-S to this post!
​

School	Athlete	Previous School	News Release
	Part 1 found here
Nebraska	Nicola Hauk	Delta State (DII)	Transfer Nicola Hauk Joins Husker Soccer Team
Nevada	Jade Beard	Fresno State	Nevada WSOC Twitter
	Zona Kinnaman	Campbell	Wolf Pack adds Campbell transfer Zona Kinnaman
New Jersey Institute of Technology	Lily Bray	Houston	Transfer Lily Bray Joining Women's Soccer Program
New Mexico	Skye McMillon	Washington State	UNMLoboWSoccer Twitter
	Sakura Yoshida	Oklahoma (Oregon)	UNMLoboWSoccer Twitter
North Carolina State	Nina Nicosia	Louisville	Women’s Soccer Adds Nina Nicosia To Program
	Alexis Strickland	Oklahoma	Women’s Soccer Adds Alexis Strickland To Program
North Dakota State	Madalyn Grate	Memphis	Soccer Announces Additions of Smith and Grate to Signee Class
	Elana Weber	Nebraska	Soccer Adds Webber, Kavanagh to Signee Class
North Florida	Mia Sadler	Southern Mississippi	Women's Soccer Adds Southern Miss Transfer Mia Sadler to 2022 Class
North Texas	Avery Barron	TCU	Hedlund Signs Big 12 Transfers
	Grace Dennis	Oklahoma State	Soccer Adds Oklahoma State Transfers
	Abi Major	Mississippi State	MeanGreenSoccer Twitter
	Lily Parker	Kansas State	Hedlund Signs Big 12 Transfers
	Hannah Russell	Oklahoma State	Soccer Adds Oklahoma State Transfers
Northeastern	Jessie Hunt	Wisconsin	Huskies Add Transfers Stam, Hunt to 2022 Roster
	Holland Stam (gk)	Duke	"
Northern Arizona	Jaylin Borden	Arizona State	NAUWomensSoccer Twitter
	Kennedy Hackbarth	New Mexico	kennedy.hackbarth instagram / TDS Transfer Tracker
	Dai Williams	Arizona State	NAUWomensSoccer Twitter
Northern Iowa	Jaylie Hicklin	GCU	UNI_Soccer Twitter
Northern Kentucky	Meghan Carl	Iowa State	NKUNorseWSOC adds Meghan Carl for spring 2022
	Maria Wiefering	Green Bay	@NKUNorseWSOC adds Shannon Crogan and Maria Wiefering
Northwestern	Mia Raben	Wake Forest	Northwestern Women’s Soccer Completes 2022 Signing Class
Notre Dame	Kristina Lynch	Florida State	Kristina Lynch Comes Home
	Anna Rico	Pittsburgh	Anna Rico Joins Irish Family
	Mackenzie Wood	Northwestern	Mackenzie Wood Joins Irish Family
	Ashley Zugay	Nebraska	Ashley Zugay Joins Irish for 2022 Season
Oakland	Alli Tefend	UIC	Women's Soccer Adds Tefend to 2022 Roster
Ohio State	Kat Robinson	Pittsburgh	Buckeyes add a pair of grad transfers
	Olivia Sensky	Ohio	Buckeyes add a pair of grad transfers
Ohio University	Cailynn Adelman	American	Women's Soccer Adds 3 Transfers For 2022 Season
	Sydney Dawson	Clemson	Women's Soccer Adds 3 Transfers For 2022 Season
	Kali Stock	Northern Illinois	Women's Soccer Adds 3 Transfers For 2022 Season
Oklahoma	Brooke Amos	Rogers State	Soccer Adds Transfer Brooke Amos
	Emma Hawkins	Central Arkansas	Sooners Add Pair Of Transfers
	Taylor Hunter	North Texas	"
	Makinzie Short [GK]	Nebraska	Soccer Adds Transfer GK Short
Oklahoma State	Blythe Beldner	Missouri	Cowgirl Soccer Adds Missouri Transfer
	Jordan Burbank [GK]	Texas A&M	Cowgirl Soccer Adds Four Transfers
	Niah Johnson	Mississippi State	Cowgirl Soccer Adds Four Transfers
	Eryka McIntyre	Missouri	Cowgirl Soccer Adds Four Transfers
	Peyton Pearson	Kansas State	Cowgirl Soccer Adds Four Transfers
Oral Roberts	Ariana Fresquez	James Madison	#ORUWSoc Signs Four Transfers to 2022 Roster
	Jordan Grisby	Appalachian State	"
	Layla Lopez	Utah Valley	"
	Abril Lucio	Little Rock	"
	Alex Machado	Univ. of the Pacific	ORUWSoc Adds 11 to 2022 Roster
Oregon State	Ava Benedetti	Arkansas	Women's Soccer Adds Arkansas Transfer Ava Benedetti
	Caroline Duncan	Memphis	Oregon State Women’s Soccer Signs Caroline Duncan
	Reese Moffett	LSU	Beavers Snag LSU Transfer Reese Moffatt
Penn State	Cassie Hiatt	Texas Tech	Women’s Soccer lands three transfers
	Penelope Hocking	Southern California (USC)	"
	Olivia Smith	Florida State	"
Providence	Madi Coyne	George Washington	Women’s Soccer Announces 2022 Recruiting Class
	Hannah Pinkus	Colgate	Women’s Soccer Announces 2022 Recruiting Class
Purdue	Zoie Allen	Boston College	Zoie Allen Transfers to Purdue Soccer
Rice	Grace Collins	TCU	Rice Adds Grad Transfer Grace Collins
Rutgers	Hailey Gutowski	Temple	RUWSoccer Instagram
	Jess Schildkraut	Columbia	RUWSoccer Instagram
	Naya Vialva	LaSalle	RUWSoccer Instagram
Sacramento State	Ali Fuamatu-Ma'afala	UNLV	Women’s Soccer Signs Three Players For The Spring
	Cassandra Herrman	Folsom Lake College (prev. UCSB)	"
	Erika Tilford	UCSB	"
Samford	Layton Glisson	Auburn	SamfordSoccer Twitter
	Kristen Goodroe	UAB	SamfordSoccer Twitter
	Annessa Shively	Arkansas	SamfordSoccer Twitter
San Diego	Laney Steed	Florida	USDwsoccer Twitter
San Jose State	Karissa Ilona	Diablo Valley College	SJSUsoccer Twitter
SUIe	Kasey Neidhart	Illinois State	SIUE Women's Soccer Announces Additions for 2022 Season
South Alabama	Micaela Dusseault	Mississippi	Jaguar Soccer Announces 2022 Signing Class
	Jasmine Greene	Furman	Greene Inks With South Alabama Soccer
South Carolina State	Giaan Langford	Southwest Oregon CC (NJCAA)	Start of a new era in Bulldogs Women’s Soccer With the Addition of 11 This Upcoming Season
South Dakota State	Abria Brooker	Santa Rosa Junior College	Jackrabbit Soccer Adds Three
Southern California	Nicole Payne	West Virginia	USC Women's Soccer Announces Four Incoming Recruits
	Brandi Peterson	TCU	"
Southern Methodist	Hannah Wrigley	South Florida	TDS Transfer Tracker
St. Francis College	Kaitlyn Maciejewski	Toledo	Instagram Post 01.18.22
	Jessica Rodriguez	Iona	Instagram Post 01.18.22
St. John's	Melina Couzis	UCONN	Melina Couzis Commits to St. John’s
	Molly Feighan	Oklahoma	Stone Adds Feighan to Roster
St. Mary's (CA)	Amaya Simoni-Walters	Florida	TDS Transfer Tracker
Stetson	Nanni Lombardi	Illinois State	Stetson Twitter
	Annie Wysong	St. John's	StetsonWSoccer Twitter
Stony Brook	Kaylee Armenia	Mississippi State	StonyBrookWSOC Twitter
Syracuse	Florence Vaillancourt	Niagara	Vaillancourt Signs With The Orange
For transfers to schools starting with T-Y, click here for part 3!

​

If you told me a year ago I’d have a 20-minute conversation with Conan O’Brien about Lizzie Borden, I’d think you were crazy. But that’s what happened on the latest episode of “Conan O’Brien Needs a Fan.” A 19th-century double hatchet murder isn’t exactly a feel-good story but it made for a great show. Conan, as we all know, can make anything funny. What a treat for this lifelong fan to talk about my hometown’s claim to fame (or infamy) with my comedy hero! He seemed pretty serious about doing an episode from the house where the murders happened (now a museum where I work as a guide), so I’m going to hold him to his word! He also said he’d dress up in a hoop skirt, so I’ll hold him to that as well — for all of us! Coco was everything you’d want him to be and his whole team made this an exceedingly easy and pleasant experience from start to finish. I’m so grateful for the opportunity. And I hope you enjoy the podcast.
Conan wants to record his podcast at the Lizzie Borden House

On mobile, sorry in advance. Also sorry because this does my head in and I’ve just read this happen and I need to vent.
Nothing makes me want to close a book more than an author describing a character’s features adds “and a T-shirt reading [hey this is something the character likes so I’ve chosen the laziest way to tell you].”
I also seem to find that this happens disproportionally with relation to “quirky” female characters - whether this quirkiness is due to them being ‘nerdy,’ athletic, or just actually independent - anything other than “this is an offensively stereotypically feminine female” gets a bloody T-shirt slogan that may as well say “iM nOt LiKe otHeR GirLs”. Note: this only relates to lazy authors, obviously great female characterisation exists far and wide.
This rant is brought on by me reading a book my sister swapped with me. It’s “The Sun Down Motel” by Simone St James. I’m only 30 pages in but I’ve (hopefully successfully) spoiler tagged the next bit just in case :) I was already frustrated because a author’s introduction of one of the main characters, Carly, was actually insufferable in my opinion. It genuinely reads, “I’d been a nerd all my life...Except that once I graduated from reading ‘The Black Stallion,’ the books I read were the dark kind - about scary things like disappearances and murders, especially true ones. While other kids read J.K Rowling, I read Stephen King. While other kids did history reports about the Civil War, I read about Lizzie Borden.” (St James 2020, 19).. Like fuck me sideways, as if that isn’t the most grating, unlikeable, T-Swift-she-wears-short-shorts-I-wear-sneakers bullshit ever, she then decides to compound this murder and desecration of good prose with the line, ”I looked down at myself: worn jeans, old boots that laced up the ankles, black T-shirt that said ‘BOOKS ARE MY LIFE’ [all caps by author] beneath a stretched-out hoodie, messenger bag.” (As an aside, she mentions “Reddit armchair detectives” on page 12 which did impact my immersion to be honest, and all-in-all this does just seem like a vaguely shite book thrown together based off of topical themes to capitalise on the current True Crime surge).
I also acknowledge that many people do express their interests through their clothes, so it’s not necessarily inaccurate to do this. But the moment an author says, for instance, “yada yada and a T-shirt with a pun concocted from Star Wars” or like, “A short reading ‘Jar Jar is actually a Sith lord’” I immediately take against everyone in the book and the entire book itself. And probably everything that author has ever written. I don’t know why but it drives me mental. I seem to remember that The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo did this quite often as well, and I did still enjoy that book but...complex women do not need to reduced down to a T-shirt slogan. It’s the equivalent of writing a character by having them carry around a billboard with all their bio info. /rant

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When the information is examined, one thing becomes clear, the elements which contribute to increase in demand for the product or service. At the same time, there will be a focus on what drives the popularity of these types of products or services. This report is for those who want to learn about Steel Grating market, along with its forecast for 2021-2024. Information regarding market revenue, competitive partners, and key players will also be available.
Key Market Players
The key and emerging market players in the Steel Grating market include AMICO Nucor Webforge Harsco (IKG) NJMM Xinxing Ductile Iron Pipes Yantai Xinke P&R Metals Meiser Ohio Gratings Interstate Gratings Grating Pacific Lionweld Kennedy Marco Specialty Ningbo Lihongyuan Sinosteel Beijing Dahe Nepean Yantai Wanjie Guangdong Nanhai Jimu Chengdu Xinfangtai Anping Runtan Borden Metal . The players have adopted various strategies to grow in the global market.
The report segments the market based on product type
Segmentation on the basis of product: Stainless Steel Grating Carbon Steel Grating
The report segments the market based application
Segmentation on the basis of application: Architecture Sewage Disposal Petrochemical Others
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Key Drivers
The report includes the key driving forces prevailing in the global Industrial Belt Drives Market. This part of the report has been studied keeping in mind the political, economic, social, technological, geographical, and cultural scenario of the global Industrial Belt Drives Market. These factors can be projected to have their individual effects on the market, or they can have interconnected impacts. Besides, subtle change in the time frame within which these factors are functioning might have ripple effects on the global Steel Grating market.
The regional major players in the market include Global Steel Grating Market has been segmented into Europe, the Americas, Asia Pacific, and the Middle East & Africa. This part of the report provides an exhaustive view of the regional scope existing in the global Industrial Belt Drives Market. The trends and preferences dominating each region has a direct impact on the industries. The report tries to exploit the trends and preferences prevailing in a region to offer the users with a clear picture of the business potential existing in that region.
Research Methodology
The primary research procedure conducted to arrive at the results includes panel of face to face interviews with industry experts and consumers. The secondary research procedure includes an intricate study of the scholarly journals and reports available online.
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Every house has a history. Some good, some bad. My job as a realtor is to match the story with a family interested in being part of it. But some houses come with a story no one wants to be part of. A terrifying story. The Benoit house is one of them.
I hate how realtors are usually portrayed in scary movies. The ones who smile at an unsuspecting family while knowing full well they are buying a nightmare that probably ends with them meeting a grisly end. That's one reason I have no interest in being anything less than totally honest with potential buyers. For starters, not telling the full story gives you a bad reputation. In this day and age, any aspiring buyer can easily find the story themselves on the internet, so if anyone tells them, better you than the gossipy woman down the street.
Besides, I've learned that horrible shit happening in a house isn't a deterrent like it used to be. If anything, it makes a place a hot commodity, morbid though it may be. The Lizzie Borden house is just one of many examples. I can't tell you how many voyeuristic people pretending to want to buy the Benoit property I've had to weed through. The Martins weren't like that.
The Martins were a nice family. Close is the word that comes to mind when I think of them. They had gone through some hard times recently and bought the Benoit house because they had to move and it was the most they could afford. Disclosure requirements or not, I made sure to tell them exactly what had happened. Mr. Martin had just lost his job and the family had to move here so he could take a new one, albeit with a pay cut. So I had no desire to add to their miseries by withholding information
On the night of August 30, 1985, the Benoit family was asleep in their beds when each member of the family fell victim to an axe. Dad Robert and Mom Marilyn, were found slain in the master bedroom, still in bed. The children, Andy, age 18, Corey, age 14, and Tabitha, age 9, were also found in their beds. Each family member had sustained numerous blows to the head. Since it was a hot night, the family had left the windows open and it was concluded that the intruder, whoever they were, had entered that way. There was also no sign of the murder weapon, as whoever was responsible had taken it with them. All of the neighbors claimed to have not heard a sound, and no one suspected a thing until Robert didn't show up for work. Someone from his office came looking for him because not showing up to work without calling was not something Robert would do. So when people from the office showed up to check on the family, they could tell pretty quick something was wrong. And when they went inside, they found a blood bath.
The Martin family had no idea about this until I told them. Carl Martin took the news quietly. His wife Abby didn't say a word either, but she bit her nails and fidgeted with her blouse.
"We have nowhere else to go," Abby said wearily. "We've tried everything else we can think of. It's basically a choice between this and living in our car."
I couldn't tell if she was speaking to me or her husband. Probably both.
"All houses have histories right?" Carl chimed in. "Bad things happen everywhere. It's just a question of whether we know about it."
"That's absolutely correct," I agreed immediately. "And nothing bad has happened in that house since."
"Really?" Abby asked.
"Yes, but in the spirit of total honesty, that's because the house hasn't been occupied long enough for anything to happen. Good or bad."
Carl ran a hand through his hair. "Has anyone bought the house since it happened?"
"No,"
"Why are you being so honest with us?" Abby looked at me, not quite sure what to think.
"For starters, if I didn't tell you, you could easily just find out on the internet. Or you would immediately find out where you lived if people around here asked what house you bought. And besides, I'd rather you hear the truth from me rather than some half baked nonsense from someone else."
"What nonsense would we hear?"
"Everyone in this town knows the story of the Benoit house. While no one has actually lived in it, plenty have set foot in it. My brother and his friends used to dare each other to see how long they could spend near it or inside it at night. For decades cops have had to chase kids away from it. And everyone has a theory about what happened. Since it happened during the peak of the so-called Satanic Panic, that was a popular theory at the time. But aside from that, there was the usual gossip and innuendo. Drug gangs because of the violence. Anyone in this town will tell you the place is haunted. A story a friend of a friend told them about seeing figures walk past the windows at night. But the facts are that the Benoit family was murdered in that house, the killer or killers were never caught, and the house has been vacant ever since."
The Martins were silent for a moment before Abby spoke up.
"I suppose we could always just sage the place."
"That you could,"
With that, the Martins agreed to buy the Benoit house. But before they moved in, I had one final word with the two of them.
"If you run into any..........for lack of a better word, issues, please don't hesitate to contact me. I mean it."
"Thank you Kara," Carl said gratefully. "We appreciate everything."
And with that, the Martin's moved into the most infamous house in my hometown. The one that looks startlingly normal except for the overgrown lawn and faded facade.
I had no idea what to expect when the Martins moved in. Sure I toured the house with them, my respectable pumps clacking gently on the floor. I will admit that being in there made me a bit nervous, but that's because it's the house I had spent my entire life hearing stories about. Do I believe in ghosts? Depends on what you call ghosts. I certainly believe every house has a story, and that if the story is bad enough, it seeps into the walls and leaves a trace, like how a leak causes mold.
Walking through the dated bungalow was surreal. The kitchen, dining room, and living room were pretty average, but the second floor was another story. As I led the way up the stairs, I couldn't help but think they were the exact same steps the killer took. But the worst was the bedrooms. Walking in there made me shudder when I realized we were some of the first people to set foot in there since the crime. The master bedroom was the eeriest. There were no bloodstains, no boogeymen lurking in the closet, but I couldn't forget what happened here. I could talk about the closet space and master bath all I wanted, all that I could think of was how removing the bloody carpet had exposed some lovely hardwood floors.
I wasn't walking through the house with a crucifix in front of me or anything, but I had spend my childhood hearing stories about hearing screams at 3 am, the time they estimate the Benoits were murdered, or that my brother's friend Danny swore he saw a face staring back at him from the master bedroom window that time he rode past here on his bike in the 7th grade.
Nothing happened during the tour, but that didn't stop me from going home that night and doing some serious damage to a bottle of Pinot Grigio. The Martins signed all the paperwork and all the only thing left was to make sure the house was up to code in every respect. That was harder than usual, as several contractors and inspectors I've worked with countless times refused to set foot in the Benoit house. But we eventually got someone to do it and when it was given the all clear, the Martins moved in. As I gave them the keys, I told them both "Let me know how you are doing, If anything happens, please call me immediately and I'll do what I can to help." They nodded gratefully, walked inside, and they officially owned the Benoit house.
I'm not a religious person by any stretch of the imagination, but as I walked back to my car and looked at the split level house, I silently said a prayer for them. Each day after they had moved in, I was on edge that I would get a phone call from Abby or Carl. But it didn't come. One at a time, the days came and went and I heard nothing. No news was most definitely good news. As time went on, I began to relax. I was good at my job and maybe I should give myself credit for helping people down on their luck get a home, sordid history or not.
After about a month, the Martins invited me over for dinner. I accepted without hesitation, because if any home needed a proper housewarming event, it was this one. But aside from that, I was curious to see what they did with the place and I pride myself in going the distance for my clients. My goal is to help them find a home, not a house.
I arrived right on time at 7 pm, bottle of Moscato in hand. When I knocked, Abby answered the door.
"Perfect timing, we were just about to sit down," she said excitedly before I handed her the bottle of wine and followed her inside. The minute I stepped inside I was stunned. It felt completely different from when I had last been here. This time it actually felt like a normal residence. But aside from the delicious smells coming from the kitchen, I thought I smelled something underneath it. The pungent smell of burned sage. When I set foot in the dining room, I noticed Abby and Carl had invited over more than just me.
"Kara, this is my sister Jody, my brother Christian, his wife Melody, and their daughter Dakota," Abby said, introducing me to a slender blond woman, a handsome man with closely cropped brown hair, a tall willowy redhead, and a girl who couldn't been more than 8 and looked just like a younger version of her mother. "This is Kara, the wonderful realtor who helped us get this house for a great price."
"Nice to meet you all," I said before we all sat down. Abby and Carl brought in dishes until the table was pretty well covered and we all helped ourselves to roast beef, cheesy potato casserole, roasted asparagus, mashed potatoes, salad, and King Hawaiian rolls. It was all delicious.
"This is delicious," I said to Abby, pointing to the cheesy potato casserole. You must give me the recipe."
"No problem. It's pretty easy. All it is is cream of chicken soup, hash browns, cheddar cheese, olive oil, sour cream, and crumpled potato chips."
After we all had plenty, Carl offered us some dessert. Apple Cobbler and Ice Cream. But we all chose to wait a little while first. Melody told Dakota to go in the living room and watch TV if she wanted to because the adults wanted to talk. She happily accepted and left us sitting pleasantly content around the table, which Abby and Carl cleared off before putting the food away, and doing some dishes. I couldn't help but notice that Dakota seemed a bit quiet, but her parents explained that she had spent the night at a friend's house and didn't sleep well.
"Abby says how helpful you were to her with the house," Jody said, reclining in her chair on my left. 'She really appreciated you being up front with the history."
"I'm sure she did."
"What did you think would happen if they moved in?" Christian asked to my right.
"Honestly, I had no idea what to expect. But I told them to keep me posted and if they needed anything, to let me know."
"They were nervous moving in at first," Jody said while nursing a cup of coffee. "But once they got settled in, the feeling faded."
"That happens alot. Moving is a nightmare under the best of circumstances."
"What do you think of the house?" Melody asked.
"Me? My opinion doesn't really matter."
"But surely you've formed some opinion," Christian said.
"Of course I have. I've lived in the area my whole life. This house has been a staple of sleepover stories and teenage dares since I was 2. But every town has a place like that. I felt creeped out the first time I came in here, but so would anyone who grew up here. Abby and Carl have done a first rate job making an old house into a home and I hope they have many happy years here. That's my opinion."
"We're just concerned is all," Jody explained. "Abby is our little sister and we don't want anything to happen to her."
"Nor do I."
At that moment Dakota walked back in the dining room with several pieces of paper clutched in her hand.
"Hi sweetie, did you get tired of watching TV?" Melody asked upon noticing her daughter.
"Yes Mommy, so I finished coloring my pictures from earlier. I want to give them to Aunt Abby and Uncle."
"That's very nice of you. They'd be so happy to have your drawings. Can I see them?"
"Sure," was all she said before handing them over. As Melody studied them, I saw her entire demeanor change.
"Do you like them?" Dakota asked quietly while her mother studied the pictures.
"Yes sweetie, I do. But I need to speak to your Dad about something, so please go read your book in the other room. I'll be right out to get you."
As Dakota shuffled out of the room, Melody showed the drawings to her husband. He didn't say a word before Melody showed them to Jody and myself.
The first picture was of a man staring at a house, clutching what looked a lot like an axe with a smear of red on it. The drawing was of the usual quality for that age, all scribbles and misshapen figures amidst a sea of bright colors, but the house in the picture looked alot like this one and was the exact same color. It was also pretty clear from the dark sky and small yellow dots that it was nighttime in the picture. The second drawing was even creepier. It showed what was clearly a man and woman lying in bed, with the same man from the first drawing watching them, still holding what looked like an axe. It's amazing how terrifying a few colorful scribbles can be.
None of us said a word while Melody went to get her daughter. When they were both back in the room, she sat down and faced Dakota.
"Sweetie we all love your drawings, so much so we want to know more about them. Who is this?" she asked, pointing to the man with the axe.
At that precise moment, Carl and Abby walked back in the dining room.
"Ok, who's in the mood for some dessert?" he asked cheerily while clapping his hands together.
"It sounds great, but we really should be going," Melody said, quickly folding up the pictures so they wouldn't be seen.
"I understand," he nodded. "Can I get you some leftovers to go?"
"No, I think we're good," Christian spoke up. "But thank you so much for your hospitality."
They exchanged a quick goodbye and didn't say a word about their daughter's drawings. I managed to slip Melody my business card and told her to call me for any reason. I went home soon after, relieved that the house seemed so normal. But I couldn't shake what I had seen Dakota draw. Kids, especially kids these days, have wild imaginations. But that couldn't have been a coincidence. Maybe she overheard her parents talking about something.
I spent the next few days trying to forget about creepy drawings. Eventually, I was successful and busied myself with other real estate deals. At least I did until my phone buzzed one day and I got a text from Melody.
"Dakota's latest drawing. She drew them while we visited Abby and Carl again."
Accompanying the caption were two pictures that were more terrifying than the first ones.
The first picture showed a black humanoid type mass lurking leering down at a young man while he slept in his bedroom. The second one showed a man and woman in bed with their eyes closed, their bodies marked up with red squiggles and lines that looked downright disturbing. But the worst part was how I noticed now the people in bed looked like Abby and Carl.
I called Melody immediately.
"That's not the worst part," she answered immediately, the fear palpable in her voice. "When we went over there, Dakota hugged both my sister and brother in law tightly without warning and said 'I don't want anything bad to happen to you' and 'I don't want The Night Man to hurt you."
"The Night Man?" was all I could get out. My legs felt wobbly.
"Yes. And when I asked him who that was, all she said was someone she saw and he scared her. I asked her where she saw him, and she said 'In a house just like Aunt Abby's.' "
"What did your sister and Carl say?"
"They were just like 'what is she talking about?' and I didn't dare tell them about any of the pictures. Kara, what the hell do I do?"
"I, I don't know. Have they said something to you about anything odd happening?"
"No, but I did notice Abby seemed very quiet last time I saw her. But that could be anything."
"Well, all we can do is keep an eye out. Thanks for letting me know."
"Kara?" She was almost whispering. "I'm scared."
"Me too Melody. Me too."
The next few days were nerve wracking, I drove past the Martin house, half terrified of what I would see or find. There was nothing out of the ordinary, although I had no idea what I expected. But nothing prepared me for what happened two weeks after the phone call.
One afternoon, Melody had taken Dakota over to her friend Carissa's house. While the two adult women were chatting over coffee, Carissa's handyman came over to take care of something. While he was working on something in the basement, Dakota wandered over to her mother. When she asked what was up, Dakota said "That's The Night Man. I'm scared of him."
Well, after some sorting out, it turns out that while Dakota had been spending the night at her friend's house, she saw him watching a family at night while everyone else slept. But since she had a hard time sleeping, she saw him stalking them. While spending the night at a different friend's house about half an hour away, she woke up and saw a couple dead in their bed, the handiwork of The Night Man. But since Dakota didn't know any better, and didn't see anyone there, she didn't think anything of it. It turns out that the house that Dakota saw The Night Man standing outside of looks a lot like the old Benoit house and the dead couple does slightly resemble Abby and Carl.
The guy was arrested and eventually convicted for killing the couple and Dakota stopped drawing creepy pictures. But everyone is happy she did, because there's no telling how long that guy would've been out there unchecked had she not.
But I'm pleased to report that Abby and Carl are happily settled in and getting back on their feet, with no creepy activity to speak of.

Check out my first case here:
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/elpz93/redacted_files_the_gray/
Check out my second case here:
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/eo88uv/redacted_files_the_banshee/
​
Thank you to everyone that sent me PMs asking how it felt to get punched out by John while investigating my last case. In case you were wondering, it felt awesome.
Also, sorry for the late update, but Jeremy and I had to wait around while some guys from [REDACTED] worked on the truck. Since Jeremy has been acting strange, I decided to take over driving and almost screwed the transmission. I'm not the world's best driver.
Now let's begin.
So, you won't read about these little guys on any folklore wiki. To be honest, I had never heard of them, but Jeremy seemed to have had a run-in with them a while back. They are similar to your garden variety gnomes or small fairies except for the fact that they have scaly black skin and pure white eyes without any pupils. At least that's what the testimonies say in the file. This file, much like the first, was accompanied by a single photograph of one of the creatures, but the outline of its body is faded? Or fuzzy? I really can't tell given the quality of the image. The little thing had something hanging from its open maw and I am told by the documents that they like taking things. Sometimes it's small, sometimes not.
There's a small bed and breakfast in upstate Maryland where this phenomena occurs. Apparently the couple that owns it use these creatures as a kind of selling point for people that are into the unexplainable or paranormal. They seem to do rather well with this attraction as they have their own website where you can purchase reservations for roughly two hundred and fifty dollars a head (no I will not be linking it here). I know it may seem weird, but hey, people pay to stay at the Lizzie Borden house, so whatever floats your boat.
Jeremy hasn't been sleeping well and so as I said, I've taken over the driving responsibilities for the time being. I must reiterate that I am not the navigator that he is as I've gotten us lost several times now. Something unsettling that I need to report is that Jeremy does sleep often while I drive, but he seems to be having nightmares. Sometimes he screams himself awake and sometimes he thrashes around and scares the ever-loving Christ out of me. Whatever is going on with him, I have reason to believe it has something to do with the man he mentioned. The one that lives in the corners of his eyes. Jeremy whispers about him in his sleep. He worries me. I've grown quite fond of him and his long stories and I don't know what I'd do if I was forced to travel by myself. He doesn't joke around as much as he did. Could be some form of psychosis?
Whenever I ask him about it he just gives me a squinty look and says, "Don't worry about me, Alex."
All names besides mine and the equipment guy's have been altered.
I will be posting my findings here.
Thank you.
Case Three
The house was obviously built early in the last century, but it is well kept and the shrubs that line the front of the porch gave it a quaint and homely feel. There were a few other homes on this stretch of road, but where spaced out from one another with large swaths of green land. It looked like a nice family's house and when I pulled into the driveway, I noticed an old man waving me over to pull into the grass of the front yard. There was a sign in a flowery cursive typeface adjacent to where he directed me to park and it read:
"Welcome to the Mischief House"
This made me breathe a sigh of relief. After my last case, this one would be a breeze. Nice and easy. I would not be terrified investigating this place. It all just seemed so inviting. This should have clued me into the fact that it wasn't at all.
I cut the engine and stepped out of the truck with Jeremy sliding out from the passenger side.
"Hey'o," said the old man, putting out his hand for a shake.
I took it and introduced myself. His name was Rick and he informed me that his wife, Rita, was out but would be coming back shortly. I helped Jeremy wrangle his equipment and we set out across the lawn with me carrying the EVP detectors and him toting his trusty camera over his shoulder. Jeremy had told me we would be setting the audio recording devices up in several rooms of the house and that we would also be securing several cameras in hidden locations.
We sat the equipment on the porch and Rick led us inside to give us a tour. The house was well decorated and had a good feeling to it, but was totally barren of personal items. It was like walking through a museum, not a home. All of the photos on the walls were stock images of plant life or landscapes. He took us to the kitchen, telling us that his wife had initially noticed one of the little black creatures peering up at her from inside of the sink drain. They even had the plate she'd dropped and shattered out of fright on display. Hardly evidence.
I know this is a strange detail to include, but I feel it is pertinent. While Rick motioned to here or there, telling us about the innumerable sightings of the strange creatures, it felt like something was tugging at my socks. I don't know how else to explain it. It felt like my socks were constricting around my feet and made my whole body itch.
The last stop on the tour was the room we would be staying in. It was a large bedroom on the second story with elegant furniture and large doors that opened up onto a small terrace. It was overwhelmingly nice. I guess that if you were going to charge suckers two fifty a night, you might as well gussy the place up a bit, huh?
From the bedroom, we noticed a car pulling into the driveway.
"Ah, that's the wife." Said Rick. "She likes to greet all guests that stay in The Mischief House." The old man accentuated those last three words like Vincent Price and wiggled his fingers at us like a cartoon ghost. When he saw mine and Jeremy's unmoving expressions, he shrugged and waved us to follow him downstairs. We dropped the gear in the bedroom and went with Rick.
Rita was a nice woman. I want to preface this by saying that Rita is a nice woman. She really is. But she's also one of those people that gets too comfortable explaining all of the strange things that have ever happened to her. She's a self proclaimed lone-witch. She's probably seen more spirits than even Jeremy. I think she sees one every time someone farts. She is very obnoxious and I could not stand listening to her explain what my aura meant to her. She said something about my aura being a deep and vibrant red. She held both of my hands in hers and said it looked like I was on fire. "You're burning." She said. It was intense, but she assured me that it was a good thing. Fucking weird.
While I spoke with the owners of the home, Jeremy lumbered behind, carrying the smaller cameras into the house. This couple was enthralled to have a pair of paranormal investigators in their 'mischief house'. I didn't have the heart to tell them that I was looking forward to debunking this house of theirs. I think they were so happy to have us there because it could, in some way, substantiate their price of admission to others. They spoke quickly and I was so tired from the drive that I could barely keep up with what they were saying in my notes, but I seem to remember it being the same ol' song and dance. A few more spook enthusiasts.
I did let it slip that my graying hair was such because of a possible banshee. Shouldn't have done that. Rita gave me some crystals that should take care of it.
The sun began to crest over the hill and we went inside so that I could help Jeremy set up the remaining equipment. By the time we had everything prepared, it was dark outside and Rita was beginning to grate on my nerves. Something occurred to me as I watched Jeremy position the monitor on the desk in the upstairs bedroom. Jeremy was losing weight. I could see it as he moved around. His clothing didn't cling to his skin like it once did. I'd not even noticed before. As I watched him, he turned, noticing me looking at him.
"What?" he asked tiredly, haggardly. His eyes were red and dark.
"Nothing."
"Go downstairs and double check that all of the mics are working properly?"
"Yeah'." I said.
I waved into each camera and spoke. Whenever Jeremy heard me coming through on the monitor upstairs, he would yell. Cool. Everything was ready.
The owners watched us go on about our business, giddy, then they left. I watched them pull out of the driveway from one of the first story windows. Their headlights splashed over the house once and then disappeared. It was just me, Jeremy, and silence.
He sat adjacent the desk and I sat on the bed. We kept the bedroom door open and while he watched the monitor, I watched the threshold, almost willing that some small black creature would scamper across the opening in the hallway.
My socks felt uncomfortable again. Like my socks were tugging at the skin in between my toes. So I took them off and massaged my feet. My feet were pretty rank, but Jeremy didn't seem to notice.
"You said you had run into these little guys before, right?" I asked him.
Jeremy looked at me with those tired eyes. "Yeah'."
"Did you ever get any photos or video of them?"
He shook his head. I hate to admit it, but living a life where you indefinitely travel tends to make you grasp onto any constant in your life. Jeremy had become that for me. It saddened me to know he was going through something so intangible. I remember thinking that constantly being on the road was starting to wear on him.
Hoping to rehash a previous conversation, I asked him, "What's wrong? Is it the man?"
He sat a little straighter in his chair. "I'm not so sure he's a man."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I don't think he's dead. I don't think he's any kind of spirit. I just..." he trailed off. "I just don't know what to do." His shoulders slumped and he seemed to let his guard down a little. "I see him all the time. When I'm awake he's always there. Watching me just out of the corners of my eyes. For a while, it worked to sleep. I never saw him in my dreams. But he watches me there too now. He whispers shit. He whispers some of the most heinous shit I've ever heard. He shows me stuff too."
I could feel my arms prickling with gooseflesh and I rubbed them, embarrassed. Looking over my first case- well. I'm supposed to be the Scully, but the way he was talking that night really, really scared me. "What does he show you?"
"He shows me that there are other places you can go after you die." This came out in a whisper. Jeremy rubbed the spot on his nose where his glasses rested. Jeremy stopped and stood up, still holding his nose. He ripped the glasses off of his face and threw them away from him so that they clattered through the open doorway and into the dark hallway. "Alex!" He screamed at me. "Fuck Alex!" He was shaking now. "Those aren't my glasses. I- I don't know where those came from." He was weeping without sobbing.
Jeremy always wore glasses.
I moved from the bed, putting my hand on his shoulder, hoping to calm him down. "Hey buddy. Hey. It's alright man. Just breathe. It's okay man."
He slapped my hand away and sat back down in the chair. Both of his knees bobbed convulsively. "Goddammit! You don't understand. He's doing this! He's coming to get me! That's how he works. He takes things. He moves them around! He changes reality. He's always there. Even when you don't see him there!"
To say that Jeremy was scaring me would be putting it lightly. For the first time, I wasn't sure what he was capable of.
"What?" He said, looking down at his hands. "Alex!" He screamed, cutting through me with his eyes. "These aren't my hands. Help me! Help me Alex! Help!" He extended his hands up to display what he meant. "These aren't my hands! Don't you believe me?"
The lights in the house flickered dark for what felt like forever, but Jeremy and I were in the pitch black for probably fifteen or twenty seconds. Some warm fluid shot through the air in the darkness and struck me in the face. I flinched and wiped away at it, entirely confused. When the lights flickered on again, I tripped backwards, scrambling away from Jeremy. I landed on the floor and violently pressed my back against the bottom of the bed. Jeremy was gnawing on one of his wrists. I looked down at the pool of blood forming underneath him. He was hunched over on both knees now. I was covered in my friend's blood.
I remember, the only thing I could think in the moment was that no one could lose that much blood and live. Then the lights flickered again and I could hear Jeremy screaming through the sounds of spurting blood and gnashing and popping sinews. "Help me Alex! Help me get these hands off of me! They're not mine!"
The lights flickered again and again and again, rhythmic. The bedroom became a completely macabre rave. Within the bright flashes coming on and off, I could see Jeremy digging away at his wrist in still frames. I looked away and closed my eyes.
Then I heard a whisper like a scream carried off through a cavern, echoing. Hello. Was all it said. I popped my eyes open and within the frames of light, I saw a man standing in the bedroom doorway. I say it is a man because that is the easiest way for me to explain it to you here. His outline was faded and he was dark. But that grin. Goddamn that grin, I got a good look at that. Jeremy's screams began to echo too. It was like I was falling into a never-ending black pit. I could feel my very atoms coming apart.
Then it stopped and the lights came on. Jeremy was gone and so was the man. I can tell you that the only thing more terrifying than seeing that man was the silence that followed. I now know what Jeremy was talking about. It's the waiting.
Taking stock of my surroundings I saw that there was no blood, no evidence that Jeremy had ever been there. He was just gone.
My first instinct was to rush to my cell phone and call the police. I typed in 9-1- and then stopped. I cleared it out and I called [REDACTED]. After ringing a few times, the line disconnected. In frustration, I slung the phone across the room. "Fuck!"
I peered around the corner of the doorway, into the hallway. I could feel my blood in my ears. My whole body was rubber. I could feel my guts twisting up in knots. After silently counting to three, I ran down the hall, towards the stairs.
I slid across the floor in my shoeless feet and cantered down the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.
"Freeze!" said some figure at the base of the steps. Their flashlight blinded me and I lost my footing, slipping backwards and tumbling down the stairs. I still have a few bruises down my back from that. "Don't move!" They said.
I noticed the figure wasn't alone. About four or five others were there. As my eyes adjusted to their lights, I saw that they were all wearing camo gear and aggressively pointing rifles in all directions. They all wore helmets that covered their faces.
They tied my hands and cleared the house and confirmed my identity.
It was only after a lengthy interrogation that they admitted they were with [REDACTED].
I don't know how it is that they responded so quickly.
I still don't know what happened to Jeremy.
I don't know what it is that I saw at the Mischief House. I didn't see any of those little black creatures though, so who knows if they're real or not. Maybe if you find yourself in the area, you can check it out for yourself, but something tells me that [REDACTED] has commandeered the home. I can't find The Mischief House website anymore and I've tried calling the old couple that owns it to no avail.
I'm sitting in my room at a Hampton. It feels lonely. My correspondence with representatives from [REDACTED] has picked up. They email me a lot more than before. They still haven't given me my next assignment, but one of the emails they sent me did inquire as to whether I would feel comfortable investigating things outside of the states.
I need to find out what happened to Jeremy.
One more thing. As I was standing outside with my hands bound, waiting for the paramilitary personnel to clear the house, I overheard the man guarding me say something into his walkie. "Do you think this is a gateway?" That was all I heard before he noticed I was listening to him. He turned the walkie off and stood at attention.
I haven't seen the man that lives in the corners of our eyes since that night, but something tells me he's seen me.
I'm going to try and get some sleep.
Take care.

I am always so grateful for all the amazing postcards/cards I receive! Thank you all for sending me something :) Thank you to: u/fondofowls for the yummy looking donut card and RAoC sticker! The sticker is so awesome, I can’t wait to put it on my laptop :) u/english_nerd for the Martha’s Vineyard postcard. Hope you had fun on your trip there! u/drummergirl16 for the clownfish postcard. I’ll be sending you something in return soon :) u/penguinsontv for the Einsiedeln postcard. It looks so beautiful there! u/Contrecoup42 for the Pastor’s Orchid postcard. It is a very pretty flower :) u/sweetbabysister for the Lizzie Borden House postcard. I’m not sure if Lizzie actually did it or not..but I think that’s what makes the story so interesting! u/stockman1984 for the cat postcard! I have four cats and one of them does sleep in a special cat bed, but the others sleep anywhere else! u/mlcathcart for the surprise postcard! So sweet of you to send some out :) u/futureghost13 for the thank you card. You’re very welcome for the birthday card! Prinsesstarta’s look amazing and I hope you enjoyed it!!

Dear JaguarPorsche,
Around Christmas, a soldier from CFB Borden tipped us off that the Trudeau government was asking soldiers on his base to contribute to their Christmas hamper.
As in: other soldiers on the base were paid so poorly, they needed a food bank, and Trudeau was asking other soldiers to make up the gap. So we invited Rebel viewers to chip in and help stock the Christmas hampers at CFB Borden. The response was tremendous, we raised over $15,000 for the military families of CFB Borden.
But something peculiar happened when we went to drop off the cheque. CFB Borden actually refused the money!
They came up with excuse after excuse for why they wouldn’t take the money, even though they told soldiers on the base that they needed it!
When we asked our viewers what to do with the funds, and they said to donate them to Canada Company, a trusted charitable organization that serves the Canadian military.
We told all of this to Canada Company, and our plans to donate the funds to them instead, and they were grateful. We arranged to meet with their interim executive director, Paul Hindo, to record a video of us delivering the funds, to send to our donors.
And they all lived happily ever after, right? Well, not so fast, folks. There’s a bizarre epilogue to this feel-good tale. Take a look:
You see, an inexplicable thing happened just minutes after recording our Canada Company report. The Rebel received an e-mail from Paul which stated the following:
“I regret to inform you that Canada Company is unable to accept the cheque presented this afternoon as our policies do not permit us to endorse political views of any organization. As such we will be returning the cheque to your attention via registered mail.”
Not just that: they actually demanded that we destroy the video of our conversation!
Absolutely nothing about this makes sense.
It's doubtful that the bad guy here is Paul Hindo. It's difficult to comprehend Paul doing a 180-degree back-flip in the space of just three hours when it came to accepting money from Rebel Media and our audience.
Here’s my gut feeling: this is nothing more than political interference from the federal Liberal government.
We know they hate the fact that we exposed what was going on at CFB Borden regarding the Christmas food drive. That’s the real reason why we couldn’t give your donations to CFB Borden in the first place.
And we know the Liberals hate the fact that we’ve made the point that the wonderful men and women who serve in the Canadian Forces can barely make ends meet while jihadi terrorists like Omar Khadr get rewarded with millions of taxpayer dollars.
So, it's possible that the Liberals are playing politics here.
Hey, you want to play politics? Fine by us. But leave the veterans out of this. In particular, the children of veterans who would’ve benefited from our viewers’ donations to Canada Company.
So I’ve started a petition that I will hand-deliver to the office of Harjit Sajjan, the defence minister to call off his political attack dogs.
Please go to CallOffYourDogs.com and sign my petition.
The Liberals must stop blocking charitable donations from conservatives.
Yours truly,
David Menzies
P.S. If Canada Company won't accept the funds, we will find a charity that will.
P.P.S. Please sign the petition by clicking here and forward this email to any conservatives you know who love our troops.
-=-=- The Rebel · Box 61056 Eglinton/Dufferin RO, Toronto, ON M6E 5B2, Canada This email was sent to dcharette5@gmail.com. To stop receiving emails, click here. You can also keep up with The Rebel Media on Twitter.
-=-=-

The Jay Electronica Enigma solved
This theory took me awhile to compile after reading all the wrong ones online (though this is just my theory) i thought it be perfect to reveal this since today is the last day of the Jay Electronica tour in his own city of New Orleans. This will be very in depth and some stuff might be familiar but some shit is just really an in depth analysis from my perspective. So the purpose of this theory is not to talk about Act 2 though i will talk about it but it's more of what the enigmatic figure of Jay Electronica is.Basically i am going to answer what the fuck is a Jay Electronica spoiler alert hes a God/prophet.
So first Act I, the mythical album released on myspace. The problem was no one ever made the connection between the album itself and the movie. This theory relies on my own interpretation of the movie and its not just about the deletion of memories but the movie was interpreted as consciousness for Jay Electronica. If you watch the movie the connection of consciousness is very clear. Spoiler Alerts for the movie ahead so watch it first. So let's talk about what the movie represents well it's about consciousness and death. The eternal sunshine of the spotless mind is basically just another way of saying ignorance is bliss. As in people who ignore the problems and the real consciousness of the world have eternal sunshine or happiness because they have no clue what is happening. In the movie itself i got the idea about it being about consciousness when Joel goes into the dream and they start deleting memories and he becomes self-aware that his memories are being deleted. And just as someone who realises they are gonna die and try to savour every moment that was good that is what Joel was doing when he started to realize how stupid it was to delete all his memories. He's fighting against the inevitable, the deletion of his memories or what can be interpreted as death. But when he accepts what is happening things start to go more smoothly and right at the end before he wakes clementine whispers a message into his ear, which she says montauk. But i think this can also be like being born with the message of god whatever it might be to you. That's why when he woke up he had the feeling to go to montauk. Now this where the theory goes more into depth. In the movie there was 2 scenes where Joel literally became woke mid sleep. He saw the world around him and was awake which shows his consciousness broke through the barrier. And inside his memories he started to control them and got off the ‘map’ .What was happening and was literally living another life as if the ending was death and that was what he was avoiding. The second moment where he was tearing up was crazy because it was similar to what people say is a near death experience where u start dreaming and go into the deep realms of your consciousness but instead he woke up into the reality where those nerds were erasing his memories. Now i also believe that because Joel was controlling his consciousness he put into effect him getting back together with clementine. First he's hearing his surroundings and knows patrick is being a fuck but because he goes off the map the main doctor had to come and shit hit the fan with him coming and Mary. This was all because while Joel was in a sleep state his actions in his own mind affected the reality he was escaping from. So Joel was another woke level. Also what was crazy is he created new universes like the one where in a weird way he became sexually fixated on clementine as a little kid when she shows her crotch so he not only was in his own consciousness but was creating new realities in his mind. It was a DMT trip on another level.
Now how does Electronica fit in this whole story, well let's take the intro
Just blaze has a recording talking about Jay and so does Erykah the exact same way Joel and Clementine get their recordings at the end talking about each other. Just blaze's recording focuses more on the musical aspect of Jay while Erykah talks about the love sorta like the clementine to Jays, Joel. Also Joel means god or Jehovah is god while clementine means mercy so this works in relation with all the shit that Jay spits. Clementine is almost the mercy of life relieving the burden of death. So The first part of the album where he first starts rapping is his claim for the throne in hip-hop and just Jay electronica being Jay electronica on a track, killing all the bars. The sample also coincides in the movie when Joel is happy and theirs love. If you notice the samples are not in chronological order in the movie so this choice to use different moods was very conscious. So Jay is just showing love he's introducing himself to the hip-hop world and this is sort of the reply to Just blazes tape recording. Then in he broke the rules i believe he's referring to him being one of the greats as just blaze mentions in the intro. He didnt take the regular path but instead is coming at this in such a different way that no one has ever seen before and didn't sign over all rights and privileges (i.e signing his soul) and broke the rules to be the greatest. Then the song itself the sample comes from the scene Joel is gathering all the items of Clementine to forget her. This mirrors Erykah and Jay and goes in depth with references from the movie in the verse itself. This track addresses the recording of Erykah in the intro. Then Voodoo man is literally the announcement of the prophet. He talks about having dreams with the christ and then is told to convey messages with the mic as his way of preaching. The intro sample with the refugee kids is almost like the unveiling of ignorance and why a prophet is needed. Because society is asleep terrible shit is happening to kids in other parts of the world but Jay the prophet is here to bring consciousness and guidance to the (85%). This sample in the movie is also when Joel purposely tries to become ignorant to avoid the feeling of sadness when he first reads the card saying clementine had Joel erased from her memory. Then in the last track FYI the sample comes from the scene where Joel frees his consciousness and strats existing in different parts of the map. He revisits many of his memories growing up now with clementine there which to me was the life he had envisioned and his conscious effort to live in a universe where he had control came to pass. And in the song itself Jay literally starts giving eye opening facts to “wake” the listener and is speaking “for your information”.
Now the album was artistically beautiful and had many layers to it and was just deep asf. But what do we know about Jay well he's a conscious rapper his views on god and religion are that it don't matter we are all our own gods and conscious beings and a religion is just a label. He alludes to having done DMT and for the sake of this theory i believe he has done DMT. Anyone who is aware what DMT is or what it can do would understand that by proxy of doing DMT Jay is on a level beyond us where his consciousness exists in a reality we can't even comprehend. Jay is a conscious rapper at the end of the day trying to “kill lucifer”. Jay is a champion of consciousness and being a poor righteous teacher and the whole idea of the prestige fits into this because. Jay is waiting for the people to become conscious enough to understand wtf is going on. First of all like 6 songs have been released from Act 2. We have more minutes of music from act 2 then we do of act 1. How can people say he hasn't released his album. Jay has released from the album tracklist:
Life on mars @fatbellybella
Shiny Suit Theory
Better In tune with the infinite
Letter to falon
Road to perdition
Run and hide ft the bullits.
Now the whole prestige thing the way that fits into this is obvious asf. We want to be fooled we want to think their is a grand enigma but like Borden in the movie who just had a twin the solution is simple. The clues were there we just didn't look at them. Same with Act 2, we never properly looked at Jay and the music that was slowly coming out and what he was doing and missed out on all this shit he was sharing. No one was looking for the music he was sharing everyone sat on Exhibit C and that was it no one looked into his Act I or his mixtapes and features and other works. Or even his secret youtube channel. We see you Mr. Flowers. The trick he's doing is bringing his career back but what is there to bring. He just needs to release 9 songs and we have the complete album but that's not what its about. We as a hip hop community and just a human species need to uplift our consciousness to be able to digest the music he wants to bestow. We just weren't ready all these years for the prophet to come and spit. At the end of the day a magic trick or illusion is a competition to be better than the other magicians or “MC”. Using Bordens voice at the end to say are you watching closely shows that he chose the simpler version of the story. In the movie hugh Jackman doesn't take the ordinary and make it extraordinary the way borden does instead he takes something extraordinary (the cloning machine) and made it seem ordinary like a simple magic trick. You can almost look at it as if Borden was a 5%er and Hugh Jackman was a 10%er and the audience is the 85%. The thing is people need to be ready for the trick but the jig is up because on the real the world has now reached a high state of consciousness and is ready for Jay to come back in full force and fury. Act 2 was Jay waiting for us to be ready for the prestige which is him just doing what Just Blaze said on the intro in Act 1 “just make music”. The prestige is when things kind of go full circle and hes bringing his rapping back and coming with real music in mass. He has mountains of records and even has gems all over youtube. In Act III last will and testament it will just be mountains of music coming out. Jay didnt want to be a preconceived idea this whole time reacting off knee jerk reactions the way the industry is. He wanted people to appreciate and ultimately deserve the music. That was the way some of Act 2 was being released just from people or fans deserving music from asking Jay. Jay is tryna remove the bias and land the message right where he wants it. On the forefront of a demographic that ignored him. Jay is using the prestige to value his product or music more than just the name. In act 2 things are supposed to get worse and worse for Jay, the story we are in the try/fail cycle was happening right now but not any more.
If you reading this Jay it's been more than a decade since Act I, through the internet and so much other crazy shit the consciousness of the world has been uplifted and it's time to come out of the shadow and complete your act.
On a side note this post was written because of actions by Jay Electronica himself. Whilst performing in toronto Jay gave his number to my rapper friend Noyz and when i heard about this i was excited cause this seemed like a chance to greatness. But instead i dived so deep into Jay ELectronica lore and ripped through all the interviews and youtube videos and music i could find. It got me to this point because truthfully i understand where Jay is coming from. He needs the vibe to be right for his music to come out. The man has talked to DMT aliens hes been on another level for a while but i think regardless 2018 is the year of Jay ELectronica so with that thank you for reading.
And if not i was grateful that for the last month or so i have been able to nerd out to some great hip hop and had mountains of content to sift through.