Dog knots its master

Exhausted college student (22F) on the verge of a breakdown here.
My dad has never been good- no good memories, constant arguments with mom, and zero financial support. Things got even worse recently after mom's hip surgery. We live in a big house, but it's a mess - overflowing trash, disgusting cat litter, and a 15-year-old dog who needs to be let out frequently or he’ll have an accident. I'm constantly cleaning, cooking, and caring for mom while juggling my final semester.
When mom came home from the hospital, she needed help with everything - dressing, eating, even showering. “Shockingly”, no help came from dad. He even got mad if lunch wasn't ready by 11 AM (lunch is the main meal here). To make things even harder, I don't have a driver's license. So, I walk 1 kilometer each way to grocery shop, carrying heavy stuff like 5-6 liters milk, because my dad refuses to help. He even blames me if something runs out! The bathroom situation is another disaster. Dad decided to "fix" the shower himself, so we were without it for a week. He was rude to mom the entire time, making her cry, and then refused to let a professional fix it even though mom offered to pay! Now, thanks to him, our wall is going to get water damage. I'm a terrible sleeper, and to top it all off, Dad sleeps constantly during the day and gets upset if anyone makes a noise. This week, with my crucial exams approaching, I desperately needed to study.
The final straw happened today. Unable to sleep since 2:30 AM, I asked my Dad to keep the dog from scratching at my door (his usual bathroom signal) as my mom is still not very mobile. He completely ignored me, and after a while, I had to get up to avoid an accident. My father layed down to sleep. I saw red I woke him up conforted him he started playing the victim as he arrived home midnight (woke up at 5) yada yada I went to sleep at 11 btw I told him he is not f ing special then he stormed of.
I'm at my wit's end. My exams are crucial, and I'm exhausted. Dad's negativity and inconsideration are suffocating. I want to cut contact, move to my grandma's after my exams, but mom needs another surgery on her other hip in November, and she could really use help. My brother might be able to visit occasionally, but my university is far away if I’ll get accepted to Masters.
So, the question is WIBTA if I prioritized my well-being and left my amazing mom in a difficult situation?

(Even though i didnt explicitly say it, it could be pieced together through context clues so; content warning: implied sa. Ive gone through a lot more than that, but thats a main one that im worried might trigger people. Again, I didnt talk about it this is a just incase.)
I'm so god damn paranoid. I thought someone broke into my house because the door was LOCKED. I don't remember locking it this morning(the key lock, I remember locking the fingerprint lock), so when the door didn't open after unlocking the fingerprint lock? Someone broke in. Never mind my dog, who happily welcomed me home, I went straight to the kitchen that's right next to the front door and grabbed a knife. Then, I searched all the rooms. There aren't a lot of places to hide, but there are hidden knives anywhere. For protection, obviously. I didn't stop until I checked all the rooms, closets and beds.
You have to understand how crazy this is. In my head, someone got past the fingerprint lock, went inside, locked two out of three locks on my door, got past my dog(protective pitbull) then hid.
Usually people think someone broke in because the door was UNLOCKED or the door was OPEN.
Nope, not this special coat wearer.
I'm absolutely sure that if I don't have cptsd, I definitely have ptsd. Only took 2 weeks with my therapist (that is now going on for 3 years) for her to point out that I'm heavily paranoid and hypervigilant, let alone pessimistic.
Look at my clothing for example.
Black drawstring parachute pants, double knotted at the waist so it's impossible to move past the top of hip. Combat boots. Long sleeve shirt with a cuff and scrunchie on either wrist to prevent it from moving to my elbow. A thigh long winter red coat with both buttons and zipper so it's not only hard to remove, it's also easy to be seen, and hides everything. It also has four pockets which I can hold an ID and phone for if I die in public(I don't want to be a Jane doe). A beanie so if someone tries to grab my hair, it'll come off first and give me time to escape. Same goes for my back pack. Always one arm in so if someone yanks it, it goes down without you. When going out in public with friends, I wear black lipstick so it can be hard to wipe off and leave evidence. Let nails grow out a bit so it's easier to scratch.
Every single choice has a reason to it. It's almost June and I'm wearing a winter coat because I feel safe in it. I have 12 pairs of the same pants because it not only makes it hard for a stranger to remove, but lessens anxiety in the mornings if I already know what I'm going to wear. It's easier to kick people while in combat boots. I keep my back against walls or away from people so I can keep everyone in my line of sight. There is a hiking whistle attaches to my backpack disguised as a bag buckl, it can be extremely loud for emergencies.
I have three locks on my door. Deadbolt, key and finger print. There is also a camera at the door as well. Apparently my muscle memory is better than my actual memory since I locked two this morning without realizing it.
I'm paranoid and scared all the time.
Atleast today I made myself laugh.

I'm so god damn paranoid. I thought someone broke into my house because the door was LOCKED. I don't remember locking it this morning(the key lock, I remember locking the fingerprint lock), so when the door didn't open after unlocking the fingerprint lock? Someone broke in. Never mind my dog, who happily welcomed me home, I went straight to the kitchen that's right next to the front door and grabbed a knife. Then, I searched all the rooms. There aren't a lot of places to hide, but there are hidden knives anywhere. For protection, obviously. I didn't stop until I checked all the rooms, closets and beds.
You have to understand how crazy this is. In my head, someone got past the fingerprint lock, went inside, locked two out of three locks on my door, got past my dog(protective pitbull) then hid.
Usually people think someone broke in because the door was UNLOCKED or the door was OPEN.
Nope, not this special coat wearer.
I'm absolutely sure that if I don't have cptsd, I definitely have ptsd. Only took 2 weeks with my therapist (that is now going on for 3 years) for her to point out that I'm heavily paranoid and hypervigilant, let alone pessimistic.
Look at my clothing for example.
Black drawstring parachute pants, double knotted at the waist so it's impossible to move past the top of hip. Combat boots. Long sleeve shirt with a cuff and scrunchie on either wrist to prevent it from moving to my elbow. A thigh long winter red coat with both buttons and zipper so it's not only hard to remove, it's also easy to be seen, and hides everything. It also has four pockets which I can hold an ID and phone for if I die in public(I don't want to be a Jane doe). A beanie so if someone tries to grab my hair, it'll come off first and give me time to escape. Same goes for my back pack. Always one arm it so of someone yanks it, it goes down without you. When going out in public with friends, I wear black lipstick so it can be hard to wipe off and leave evidence. Let nails grow out a bit so it's easier to scratch.
Every single choice has a reason to it. It's almost June and I'm wearing a winter coat because I feel safe in it. I have 12 pairs of the same pants because it not only makes it hard for stranger to remove, but lessens anxiety in the mornings if I already know what I'm going to wear. It's easier to kick people while in combat boots. I keep my back against walls or away from people so I can keep everyone in my line of sight. There is a hiking whistle attaches to my backpack disguised as a bag buckl, it can be extremely loud for emergencies.
I have three locks on my door. Deadbolt, key and finger print. There is also a camera at the door as well. Apparently my muscle memory is better than my actual memory since I locked two this morning without realizing it.
I'm paranoid and scared all the time.
Atleast today I made myself laugh.

Fighting/Normal: OHKO (One Punch Man but instead of one effortless punch it’s a touch of death combo he has to )
Species: Mugen
Planet: Sonof
Appearance

• Humanoid blank white body
• Thick Smooth/Blocky appearance (like made of pillows)
• Headband and Gi are common wares

Powers and Abilities

• Enhanced Strength
• Unlimited Stamina
• Extremely High Pain Tolerance
• Semi-Mechanical Nature does not need to eat, sleep, or breathe
  • Unaging
• Slight combat prowess
• Slightly stuns the opponent on contact with physical force (specifically after a physical hit. Applies to non living beings as well)
• Once an attack lands, it’ll receive enough energy to continue physically attacking it in a never-ending combo. Dealing blows significantly faster, gaining strength with each hit and eventually able to deal noticeable damage to almost any target with each hit.

Weaknesses/Drawback

• Slow movement
• Limited Fighting Capabilities
• Attacks are usually short
  • Can extend reach but takes notable time so it needs to make an effort to land combo
• Combo can be interrupted, loses momentum and needs to land another hit when it does.

Species/Planet Fact: The Mugen started as semi-organic creations by a long dead civilization who sought to try experiments designing different types of warriors. Eventually the planet will be inhabited by foreign researchers. These researchers have been working on enhancing them with various effects to increase their capabilities, and give them more movement and combat options. But during testing it was discovered that watching the Mugen fight with or without enhancements is incredibly entertaining resulting and a strong source of combat study. This discovery redirected their experiments being used for sports instead of warfare even preventing what would’ve been an interplanetary war by turning it into a competitive sport, exploding the planet in popularity. During this explosion there was the discovery of a single fight between two Mugen that have went on for centuries before the first immigration and has been fiercely protected from interruptions since its discovery.
Fighting/Grass: Doungwun Nemetrix predator of the Chunwin (See Kung book in Grass Types)
Appearance

• Green Body
• Mantis like Body
• 2 Pairs of claws with sharp fanged ends, each with a long membrane hanging off of them.
• Multiple pair of locust-like wings under where abdomen should be.
• Reptilian head
• Pupilless Eyes

Hunting Method

• Flight
• High reflexes
• Claws able to capture and break of Chunwin limbs, and attach to body of prey.
• Membranes absorb attack from Chunwin
• Long retractible tongue able to launch with precision and strength, able to pierce the body and grasp onto vital organs.

Planet/Species Fact: Despite the Doungwun seemingly biologically engineered to beat Cunwin on one to one combat, countering their various techniques. They rather take less ‘honorable’ tactics whenever possible. In populated areas they’d quickly overwhelm their prey with high numbers and quickly attack before the Chunwin gets a chance to swing. If there are aren’t any others nearby it’ll try to ambush its prey from hard to reach angles in the air. Only when it’s alone and has caught the attention of its prey, will it attach itself and engage its prey in close range combat. Most Chunwin societies simply use traps, or other tools to protect themselves from these predators. But a predator that chooses to engage in a one on one duel is more respected and results in a more respected death (for either one). So some Chunwin warriors leave themselves open to solo Doungwun attacks as some form of test.
Fighting/Fire: Racaln the Nemetrix predator of the Clabestro (See Firing Squad in Fire types)
Appearance

• Large translucent viscous puddle with various organs inside, including left overs from prey
  • A lot of mouths and eyes
  • Able to reconfigure organs inside body
• Able to raise body in multiple large bumps of various sizes, which usually containing organs

Hunting Method

• Raises body with jaw to consume prey on its body
• Full sensory of targets on its liquid body
• Viscous body can regenerate (and even split into multiple organisms)
• Prey stable on body is inflicted with Hallucinogenic and Auditory illusions, to make them unable to see and hear others allowing the Racaln to strike admit this confusion
  • Also able to block telepathic and electronic communication
• Able to use the natural weapons of digested prey (ie the guns of the Clabestro)

Planet/Species Fact: Racaln only prey on the Clabestro when they’re split up and small. They don’t do any harm when they’re merged on one bigger body. But since most Clabestro combat (which happens very often) has them in their small split up forms. This makes it common for Racalns to be collected from the wild or bred in captivity to be utilized as excellent traps, and denying area. This practice would also be used as a mark to safeguard places from violence, to prevent Clabestro from splitting to engage in combat. This practice has spread to official gatherings like courts and diplomatic meetings.
Fighting/Water: Ultimate Slush (See Original in Water Types)
Appearance

• Dark Green Body
• Loses gourd
• Various sharp attachments that have the appearance of the sharp bottlenecks of broken bottle
• Core with an unbalanced changing color in head

Powers/Ability

• Retain expert flexibility
• More aggressive fighting style (while retaining it’s drunken boxer like moves)
• Fire Projection
• Can’t feel pain
• Core hypnotizes targets on sight, intoxicating them
• Able to use sharp accessories

Weaknesses/Drawbacks:

• More Violent personality
• Can’t spill out body to trip opponents
• Loses Elasticity

Fighting/Elctric: Ultimate Fightning Rod (See Web Work in Electric Types)
Appearance

• Long thin build made of lightning
• Normally invisible

Powers/Ability

• Invisibility
• Intangibility
• Invincibility
• Whenever an Influx of energy (Any kind) in an area appears:
  • Able to instantly teleport to any place where the energy is dispersed
  • Doing so attacking the target with massive strength directly proportional to energy
  • Once energy subsides or moves outside of energy influx, body becomes invisible/intangible again
• When visible, can absorb all kinds of energy
• Able to unleash a large burst of both sound and light with absorbed energy

Weaknesses/Drawbacks:

• Unable to extend body parts
• Can only deal damage in large bursts of energy
• Is no longer invincible when exposed a large energy influx in a prolonged duration

Fighting/Flying: Ultimate Fight and Flight (See original in Flying Types)
Appearance

• Black/Brown coloring scheme
• Face is more crow like
• Tails are longer
• Hawk-like eyes and wings
• Larger body

Powers/Ability

• Stronger
• Faster
• Enhanced Senses
  • Slight Danger Senses
• Hypnotic Stare
  • Invokes Intimidation into targets provoking them into either fighting or running
  • When staring at foes, they’re able to read gains seconds precognition into multiple visions whether they fight or fly and combinations of timelines when they do both. Visions show what they would do, but is able to be altered with the newfound knowledge in real time.
  • Precognition can predict unknown interferences like hidden dangers
  • Heightened intelligence and brain processing speed to plan out effective strategy to hunt or combat their attempts

Weaknesses/Drawbacks:

• Unable to split self into two forms
• Using hypnotic stare on multiple targets can overwhelm self
• Predicted precognitive visions can be avoided if target resists hypnosis making them prep for things that won’t happen

Fighting/Ice: Giengar Nemetrix predator of the Ashe (See Burrzerker in Ice Types)
Appearance

• Skeletally thin limbs
• Very lanky frame (usually hunched over)
• Large Wooly body
• Long clawed fingers
• Sharp Teeth

Hunting Method

• Immunity to cold
• Silent movement
• Inflicts hallucinations on target nearby especially Ashe
  • Inflicts shadowy hallucination of a competitive animal (usually the same as the affected prey) causing the target to continuously attack hallucination.
  • Target eventually tires out attacking hallucination, losing adrenaline and succumbing to hypothermia or exhaustion.

Planet/Species Fact: Giengar are omnivores. In cold seasons they eat large predators with their primarily skill of inducing hallucinations that tire out its target before having its body frozen over for it to consume with its teeth designed to crush frozen objects. They gain this power by consuming mushrooms from warmer, jungle biomes that contain spores which has a similar effect to targets that breathe them in (though less concentrated and ends with less fatalities). Giengars are immune to these spores so during the warmer seasons they migrate to the jungle to consume high amounts of these mushrooms to expel their spores in large concentrations during hunting season. Normal Ashe that occupy these jungles stay away from the dangerous arctic biomes the Giengars hunt in, so to them the Giengar are seen as harmless. Since even if the Giengars try to use the spores against them, the conditions aren’t lethal and the lack of the Ashe’s adrenaline won’t inhibit their ability to recognize their condition and react accordingly instead of wasting their energy fighting.
Fighting/Ground: Ultimate Mudripper (See Original in Ground Types)
Appearance

• Diamond Skin
• Loses eyes
• Elongated Snout
• Six pairs of short legs
• Clawed Hands
• Glass Hairs
• Loses Tail

Powers/Ability

• Enhanced Smelling Senses
• Heatproof
• Durable and ough Diamond Skin
• Sharp Claws
• High Speed Burrowing
• Thermo-adaptation
• Able to resurface lava and create lava motes/small volcanos on ground from underneath
• Drooling Lava Saliva
• Able to walk on surfaces
• Vacuum Adaptation

Weaknesses/Drawbacks:

• Loss of Eyesight
• Can’t Jump
• Unable to grab object with claws as well as base form hands
• Can’t Swim

Fighting/Rock: Ovivine Nemetrix predator of the Sabter (See Mountain Goat in Fighting Types)
Appearance

• Sheep-based body
• Green Wool
• Flowers growing on body

Hunting Method

• Wool is able to absorb strong impacts
• Vine-like tendrils on side of body able to connect to cliffsides
• Able to camouflage selves into a grass pile
• Grows a disconnected field perpendicular to the cliffside making it look its prey is on the ground
  • Field camouflaged to be unable to be seen from below
• Able to communicate with Sabter to trick it on standing on the field, of the cliff before falling to their deaths.

Planet/Species Fact: While Ovivine can talk and mimic sentient emotions its only purpose is to gain the trust of prey as a mere predatory mechanism, their brains aren’t capable of deeper introspective thought or sentience when alone. Sabter are worn of the Ovivine though largely they are seen as myth with how very few sightings they are and how little the Ovivine are actually active due to their slow metabolism. Ovivines cover their prey on the floor and slowly consume it whilst morphing its body to appear as a mere lump of ground covered in grass, which is another factor into how little they’re seen. Occasionally they encounter some Sabter who are very much aware of them, and their tricks so in those cases they simply push them off the cliff side. Though this method relies on the element of surprise since their physical strength is much weaker than the average Sayter.
Fighting/Bug: Ultimate Float Stinger (See Original in Bug Types)
Appearance

• Slightly bigger body
• Longer wasp like structure
• New Vertical striped black and white body

Powers/Ability

• Able to summon a near indestructible hive shaped structure
  • This pocket dimension draws in 2 individuals (which can include the creator) into an arena pocket dimension.
  • Telepathic communication with all individuals in pocket dimensions
  • Individuals in the pocket dimension must follow certain reality altering conditions to set a “fair fight”
    • This usually includes removal of “powers” but can also vary to have no removal or even the addition of powers
    • Fight doesn’t have to be direct combat and more of a much as a sport
    • Individual size are usually scaled to be relatively similar
  • Individuals leaves once one or both is considered ‘defeated’ or by the creator’s permission

Weaknesses/Drawbacks:

• Rules set in arena must be made to be fair for both individuals
• No longer able to project honey to prevent powers
• Slightly slower and weaker outside of hives
• Reality altering rules only affect targets inside a hive

Fighting/Psychic: Muscle Memory (Alien Taskmaster)
Species: Reffox
Planet: Arbeitar
Appearance

• Tall Humanoid muscular appearance
• Body looks skinless and made of muscles
• Egg-shapd head and single eye

Powers and Abilities

• Enhanced Atleticism
• High combat p rowess
• Able to slowly build up strength and speed
• Photographic reflexes
• When looking at any moving target, able to quickly learn, memorize, and mimic that targets moves allowing them to be able to come up with a counter for it.
  • Also applies to their use of tools

Weaknesses

• Can only memorize and mimic movements not powers
• Can only enhance strength and speed in short bursts
• May be at risks for learning ineffective techniques

Planet/Species Fact: Due to the fact that all Reffox are all physically the same and that any unique skill that are developed is quickly assimilated by one another. Reffox populations share a yearning for a sense of identity. So many Reffox head off to other cultures/planets to use their learned skills to be able to make an identity of themselves, whether it be an athlete a performer, a warrior, a hero, or in some cases a criminal or ruler. This feeling is felt through all Reffox and when two of them meet, they silently agree to not show their skills to each other to keep their identity. Though if they do want to share they return to Arbeitar to tell their stories or inspire new skills for the next generation who would tell their story.
Fighting/Poison: Biolence (Fist of the North Star Powered by drugs, and can weaponize their own explosions )
Species: Gomane Planet: Omawoshindyu
Appearance

• Rough Green Skin
• Orc Like Head
• Muscular Build
• Costume comes with a mouth-covering mask
• Large Hands

Powers and Abilities

• Enhanced Strength
• Strength and size are gradually enhances from absorbing normally hazardous or even just unhealthy substances
• Body is slowly producing its own internal toxins
• Noxious Stench
• Poisons eventually build up into large cysts on skin that eventually bursts into powerful noxious and slightly toxic gas expulsion when ‘popped’, able to do damage from force
  • Able to control cyst development early
  • Cysts become more powerful with more hazardous substances given
  • Able to transfer poisonous cyst development onto others from force of contact, usually other species skin is not built to handle the expulsion causing damage when they pop

Weaknesses

• When exposed to hazard substances, the Cysts become faster developed and harder to control possibly hindering the body
• Loses strength build after cyst has popped
• Mind can be altered to be more violent depending on hazardous substances consumed, commonly manifests in an addiction or violent temperament (usually removed when expelled)

Planet/Species Fact: Eons ago a large vapor of toxic alien pollutants was mysterious dropped on Omawoshindyu mutating all inhabitants and killing off massive amounts of life, however life stiff have adapted and eventually evolved resulting in the modern Gomanes. By the time their own society has formed, the pollutants have been absorbed into the earth or dissipated from the atmosphere allowing fertile greener life to grow. Ironically most of Gomane society promotes healthy activity like proper diet in exercise, for it allows them to control their cyst development more effectively even when there sped up, which they use in hunting and combat sports. However crime activity is still noticeable involving addiction, violence, and gang activity. Mostly originating in highly polluted/deserted wastelands. As various poisons are being produced and mines
Fighting/Ghost: Body-structor (Havik from MK1 with hints of Water Law from One Piece)
Species: Rankensain
Planet: Taxodoom
Appearance

• Tone “Action Figure like structure”
• Smoothed out Joints
• Skeletal head
• Sharp Claws
• Retractable Spikes on limbs
• Leathery skin
• Large tail

Powers and Abilities

• Enhanced Strength and Stamina
• Combat Prowess
• Immortality
• Quick Cellular Regeneration
• Able to detach own limbs/body parts and effectively control them when attached.
• Able to grow a detached body part on the detached body
• Able to detach others limbs/body parts of target on contact
  • Able to attach body parts detached this way to self
  • Body parts detached this way can still be controlled and are controlled by the head/brain they are attached to (all head/brain are in control of themselves). If their original head/brain is detached they can still be controlled by that head/brain unless it’s on attached to another of the same body part in which case they can’t move.
    • With the exception of Rankensains who can control their own body parts even while their heads are on a different body.
  • Different body parts can be reattached to other bodies detached this way, even in places the body parts don’t go
  • Specifically in the Omnitrix after retransformation original rankensain body parts will dematerialize and all new attached body parts from detached bodies will fall off.

Weaknesses:

• Slightly slow
• Detachment requires strong force of contact
• Targets dispatched bodies can reattach their own parts, and can’t take them off again when put back into place (Can only be detached again by a Rankensain)
• Body parts attached to wrong part of body can be dispatched by anything even by accident
• Targets can disconnect different a body part that wasn’t originally there’s
• After regrowing a body part that was already attached, the original detached body part will lose its structure and melt
• Will die if all body parts are destroyed too fast
• Only their own body parts can detach other limbs

Planet/Species Fact: Body parts are the Rankensains main currency. While most body parts are gathered from hunted animals on their world. Rankenstains have developed interplanetary transportation to gather valuable alien body parts. Often by nefarious methods like warfare, grave robbing, or even homicide, making them a disdained and feared species across multiple planets. There are labs made to create clones of existing limbs to replace active hunting to remove the need for travel, but with how often exploration is used and how slow the cloning process is, Rankensains still commonly hunt aliens for their limbs as part of a darker slightly underground culture. To get around their negative reputation, Rankensains would remove their own brains and implant them into other bodies to disguise themselves.
Fighting/Dragon: Medisnake (Combat Snake with Street Fighter Chi abilities)
Species: Ansatryu
Planet: Chakrenin
Appearance:

• Long Reptilian Body built similarly to a Skink
• Dragonoid Scales
• Small Limbs
• Bipedal

Powers/Abilities:

• Enhanced Combat Prowess
• Slithering
• Easily able to enter a meditative state for enhanced self-control, psychological/emotional balance, mental clarity, and even healing
  • Able to access pressure points that puts allies in a similar state
• Natural chi-like energy and mastery
  • Energy skills normally manifest as enhanced athletic skills and energy projection at a basic level
  • Energy can be personalized into a different element or even power

Weaknesses

• Personalization initially requires a level of training that the Omnitrix transformation doesn’t initially give.

Planet/Species Fact: Initially Ansartyu were seen as pets of another more human-like species called the Shotogun and as intelligent as their owners. However, eventually the Shotogun would discover their ability to tap into their own personal well of the same chi-like energy and start practicing it for various means. However back then only a handful of masters would be able use it, and only at a very basic level. Until one Shotogun prince discovered that his treasured Ansatryu was able to tap into and unlock further levels of mastery. With this knowledge the prince learned from his Ansatryu and developed a closer bond with it, even teaching his pet higher levels of intelligence as he was taught further mastery of chi. Later he would teach others how to learn from their Ansatryu and his own Ansatryu will give intelligence to others of his species, leading to the point where Ansatryu are now partners living in the same world as the Shotogun in relative harmony.
Fighting/Steel: Weapon Blaster (Tank Knight with hand guns that shoots bladed weapons) Species: Arthmo
Planet: Palawar
Appearance

• Tall metal body
• Tank treads for legs
• Knight-Like Helmet
• Short cannons for arms

Powers and Abilities

• Enhanced Durability
• Enhanced Eyesight
• Full rotating body
• Canon arms launch out metal objects commonly melee weapons like swords, spears, axes etc at high speeds
  • Weapons are animated and “preprogrammed to move in ways/fly in a direct path and can be “preprogrammed’
  • Can be locked onto a focused target and rotate/swing in a specific way whilst following the target
• Other different types of weapon shooting
  • Machine Gun type: able to launch out multiple imprecise smaller metal weapons that can’t be animated
  • Sniper: Able to launch a singular fast powerful far reaching weapon
  • Giant: Able to launch one giant weapon a short distance that stays out longer.

Weaknesse

• Drawbacks of each weapon shooting
• Slow Tank like movement
• Can only create simple metal objects
• Weapon projectiles can be moved offcourse
• Weapon projectiles can only stay out a minute before dissipation
• Weapons take time and varying degrees of focus to charge before launch which increases with duration of animation
  • Shooting out a large powerful weapon increases load time, and can’t shoot more weapons while the giant weapon is out

Species/Planet Fact: Arthmo is an artificial species created from a combination of alchemy and engineering by a master at both, commissioned by a great king. They were meant to be used as weapons of warfare and even companions. However an enemy army raided the kingdom, and killed both the lord and creator after the first Arthmo woke up. So the lab was well hidden so the Arthmo followed the instructions of its creator and created more of it, and slaying the enemy army. Now they defend the remaining members of their kingdom to allow it to rebuild. However, rumor has it that a surviving enemy found the original Arthmo lab.
Fighting/Dark: Spotshot
Species: Dalmate
Planet: Cerberence
Appearance

• Dalmatian white and black spotted pattern body
• Monkey like proportions and arms
• Dog like head
• Paws for feet
• Long tail with a forked end

Powers/Abilities:

• Enhanced Athleticism
• Enchanted Acrobatics
• Wall Crawling
• Able to use forked tail and string-like mucus in between split as a slingshot
• Shoots able to launch “spots” from tail
• Dark skin works good for camouflage
• Combat Prowess
  • Spots inflict a strong force on impact
  • Leaves a spot mark on the target, and can potentially blind a living target
  • Projectile spots are able to fly out of marks
  • Able to make spots launch off objects on impact before making mark
  • Hitting mark with multiple projectile creates a bigger mark, and a bigger projectile by extension
  • Able to absorb Dalmate spots on own body

Weaknesses/Drawbacks

• Spots dissipate after minutes
• Unable to projects spots marked on body

Species/Planet Fact: The spotted biological materials that generate the Dalmate’s projectile “spots”, is a shared trait amongst a handful of different Cereberence animal species and even some plant life. Those species has a spot of a different color that was meant harm all other species/subspecie for predation or predator avoidance. Other species that don’t have this projectile ability do have spotted patterns on them to warn predators, or even create similar marks on objects to protect territory by intimidation.To weaponize their own “spots” Dalmate tribes would farm different animals and use them in different methods that changes their spot markings to battle other tribes with their own spot slinging skills to prevent it from being simply absorbed into its targets body.
Fighting/Fairy: Best-O Change-O (Magical Girl/Boy Recruiting Bunny)
Species: Usegin
Planet: Lunakessho
Appearance

• Anthropomorphic Bunny
• Biological Crystal accessories on head
• Natural mask-like fur pattern on head and pupils eyes (males only)
  • Crown like horns on females
• Standard outfit of a Tuxedo-like suit, or School-Girl dress based on gender

Powers/Abilities

• Natural magic potential
• Enhanced leaping
• Enhanced Athleticism
• Costume transmutation
• Able to enhance a small hand held object
  • Transmutes the object into a specialized weapon and usually able to project a specialized material/force/or element (depends on a combination of both the individual and object)
• Able to enhance another object allowing an Ally to gain a similar weapon and the same powers of an Usegin except the ability to enchant other objects.

Weaknesses

• Only able to utilize one weapon at a time
  • Applies to allies, they can only utilize their chosen object
• Takes a while to enchant another object for an ally after the first
• After an allies enchanted objects breaks they lose their gained abilities
  • Ally abilities also go away when the Omnitrix Transformation ends

Planet/Species Fact: Lunakessho is a magical planet where all the inhabitants would practice magic, protected by an order of Usegin knights. However dark forces used by villains and monsters would arise practicing this dark magic and almost threatened to corrupt the universe. The Usegin order managed to fight them off but with a threat on that kind of scale and some remaining presence of their enemies they decided to seal of the planet into another realm. However, now there is an occult group mages summoned the order on various points of different moons using a ritual that was meant to be used in case they’re needed. While the Usegin heroes did manage to get involved in their traditional hero work. They’ve learned too late that this ritual will eventually corrupt them once all the full rituals is complete, and they’re powerless to stop them. So they now go to various planets and recruit and train other magical warriors to stop them when the time comes.

Here is the audio, video, and transcript. Here is the episode summary:
Benjamin Moser is a Pulitzer Prize-winning writer celebrated for his in-depth studies of literary and cultural figures such as Susan Sontag and Clarice Lispector. His latest book, which details a twenty-year love affair with the Dutch masters, is one of Tyler’s favorite books on art criticism ever.
Benjamin joined Tyler to discuss why Vermeer was almost forgotten, how Rembrandt was so productive, what auctions of the old masters reveals about current approaches to painting, why Dutch art hangs best in houses, what makes the Kunstmuseum in the Hague so special, why Dutch students won’t read older books, Benjamin’s favorite Dutch movie, the tensions within Dutch social tolerance, the joys of living in Utrecht, why Latin Americans make for harder interview subjects, whether Brasilia works as a city, why modernism persisted in Brazil, how to appreciate Clarice Lispector, Susan Sontag’s (waning) influence, V.S. Naipaul’s mentorship, Houston’s intellectual culture, what he’s learning next, and more.
Excerpt:
COWEN: You once wrote about Susan Sontag, and I quote, “So much of Sontag’s best work concerns the ways we try, and fail, to see.” Please explain.
MOSER: This is what On Photography is about. This is what Against Interpretation is about in Sontag’s work. Of course, in my new book, The Upside-Down World, I talk about how I’m not really great at seeing, particularly. I’m not that visual. I’m a reader. I’m a bookworm. Often, when I’ve looked at paintings, I’ve realized how little I actually see. Sometimes I do feel embarrassed by it. You’ll read the label and it’ll be three sentences, and it’ll say like, A Man with a Dog. You’re like, “Oh, I didn’t even see the dog.” You know what I mean?
On these very basic levels, I just think, “Oh, if someone doesn’t point it out to me, I really don’t see.” I think that that was one of the fascinating things about Sontag, that she was not really able to see. She was actually quite terrible at seeing, and this was especially true in her relationships. She was very bad at seeing what other people were thinking and feeling.
I think because she was aware of that, she tried very hard to remedy it, but it’s just not something you can force. You can’t force yourself to like certain music or to like certain tastes that you might not actually like.
COWEN: What was Sontag most right about or most insightful about?
MOSER: I think this question of images — what images do — and photography and how representations, metaphors can pervert things. She had a very deep repulsion to photography. She really hated photography, and this is why a lot of photographers hated _her_ because they felt this, even though she didn’t really say it. She really didn’t trust it. She really thought it was wicked. At the same time, for somebody who had a deficit, I guess you could say, in seeing, she really relied on it to understand the world.
I think that tension is very instructive for us, because now, she already says 50 years ago, “There are all these images. We don’t know what to do with them. We don’t know how to process them.” Forget AI, forget Russian trolls on Twitter. She uses this word I really like, hygiene, a lot. She talks about mental hygiene and how you can clean the rusty pipes in your brain. That’s why I think reading her helped me at least to understand a lot of what I’m seeing in the world.
COWEN: Do you think she will simply end up forgotten?
Again, I am happy to recommend Benjamin’s latest book The Upside-Down World: Meetings with Dutch Masters.
The post My excellent Conversation with Benjamin Moser appeared first on Marginal REVOLUTION.

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Hello all, I've been playing for a few years but this is my first wizard, and only like the third character thats reached this high in level. That said, I am looking for strategies and even spell suggestions for next level to help my party survive. We are very strong and consistently punch above our weight class, so to speak, but while the DM is very generous, we have also nearly TPK'd twice in the last few sessions (One we pulled out a win and the other was a tactical retreat.) The other two in the party are (were?) new players when we started the campaign. Sorry in advance for the wall of text, I just like full context and don't post much. Hopefully this is in the right place.
So in the party we have a: Level 7 Heavy weapon master+Sentinel bear-barian human. Tanks and DPS (second character ever)
Level 5 Newbold wolf barbarian, 2 fighter that switches from point man to dagger throwing with quick toss and I think has plans to go Rune knight? (First character ever)
Then me Level 1 Artificer, 6 Bladesinger Harengon. Quandrix background (no free feat). Was originally supposed to be a Van Hellsing like character, then has become more party mom and watch dog that does everything from Face to Healer to Crowd Control to Buffer. I wear many hats and am stretched thin while trying to also shove spotlight onto the Newbies by facilitating what they wanna do with their characters. I have come to play 90% support in one way or another.
Spells: Cantrips: Guidance Thorn Whip Booming Blade Mind Sliver Minor Illusion Prestidigitation
Artificer: Cure Wounds Guiding Bolt Feather Fall Catapult Absorb Elements
Wizard: 1st Bless (Fey Touched) Silvery Barbs Shield Entangle Mage Armor Detect Magic Floating disk Guiding Hand
2nd Misty Step (Fey Touched) Summon Beast (Story reward) Dragon's Breath Mind Whip Vortex Warp Shadow Blade Spider Climb Water Breathing Blindness/Deafen Detect Thoughts Augry Suggestion Hold Person Invisibility
3rd Fireball Aura of Vitality Hynotic Pattern Counterspell Spint Shroud
4th Black Tentacles
Relevant magic items:
Custom Staff - 10 charges, 1 charge to cast: Find Familiar, Silent image, Comprehend Languages, or Grease. If I succeed a saving throw against a spell that only targets me, I can reflect it as if I cast it for a charge.
Mask that casts darkness, centered on you, when you put you fingers in it. Used in combination with a severed goblin hand that as a bonus action acts like a mage hand and saves me hand.
Brassiere of Fire Summoning (GM flubbed so now wizardress has a bronze breast plate) summons a Fire Elemental for 4 turns, but no saves required, once per day.
Staff of Swarming Insects.
Magic abilities. Has permanent Detect magic. 1 minute per day flight. 1 minute per day. Ghost form with resistance to all damage, but also all damage I deal is now halved and turned to necrotic. Can pass through walls.
We fight a lot of undead and magic items are mostly random. Any advice would be greatly appreciated.

I just moved and I’m short on cash. I could use a spot of gas so I can get to and from my new job 🥲 I’m supposed to have a check coming in the mail, but my tank is low and the check still hasn’t arrived yet.
As far as the dog stuff goes, it’s not too urgent. A retractable leash would be helpful so she won’t keep getting tangled in the regular leash I have, and the brush would help a lot because she has a few mild knots I need to detangle.

Inspired by Solomon VK's Faufreluche posts.

D20	This staristocrat's badge of office
1	is a golden diadem which projects a hologram of Old Sol from its highest tine, as well as the rest of Man's Cradle-System orbiting about it.
2	is a hideous diamondoid mask made in the image of an alien demi-god from whom their esteemed house claims descent.
3	is an auroran magneto-cloth cape which flares with the oscillations of subtle fields.
4	is a porous meteoric amulet that echoes with the music of the spheres.
5	is a blade of enchained magnetic monopoles channeling ouroboric tangles of plasma - ever-glowing, their patterned glows expressing the cyclical yet self-degrading nature of the cosmos, able to cut through all but the most unnaturally enforced materials.
6	is a scepter containing a degenerate micro-verse within its topping globe.
7	is a battered helmet pulled from the suit of one of the first humans to reach outer space.
8	is a battle standard bearing the heraldry of their family, and topped with the head of a lion, preserved and animated to roaring unlife by cybernetic tubes woven through its flesh and bone.
9	is a halo of abstract mathematics, written directly on the fabric of space-time rather than mere matter.
10	is a pauldron of fused silicon, the remains of an artificial intelligence which almost overcame humanity.
11	is a dilating-lens lantern of an indestructible, orange-green alloy - fully unleashed, its actinic brilliance can guide in a ship from high orbit.
12	is a vial of their own, genetically-perfected blood, crystallized into a ruby-like gem.
13	is a crown of golden rings hovering about each other, each engraved with the zodiac of a different solar system.
14	is a famous artifact of Earth preserved within a temporal stasis-orb.
15	is a set of infrasonic pan pipes that can manipulate the minds of men and machine alike.
16	is a holy book written by the first settler of their world, in an eclectic script unreadable by anyone yet living.
17	is a shield with a brazen, hypercubic boss and a rippling purplish forcefield about.
18	is a labrys bearing edges honed to subatomic sharpness with whetstones hewn from the preternaturally dense heart of a collapsed star.
19	is a bowl holding a fractal bonzai grafted with branches of every fruit-bearing tree of humanity's homeworld.
20	is the head-sized smaragdine egg of some voidborne beast, the inevitable hatching of which is said to herald the end of the universe.

D20	This staristocrat's holdings
1	lie under a dimming sun, weakened by its fusion-harvest which forms the foundation of the staristocrat's wealth.
2	contain no life-bearing worlds, its population sustained only by technocratic hydro-pneumatic despotism.
3	bear the glassy-green sheen and asymmetrical mutations left by ancient nuclear war.
4	are mineral-rich but poor in organics and water, expending most of their export-wealth on life-giving imports just to survive.
5	produce a unique and inimitable spice, and are thus coveted by an extra-solar rival.
6	are either watery or gaseous, with dry, solid ground an unimaginable luxury - the populace living on great rafts or aerostats.
7	have recently absorbed a mass of refugees fleeing a black swan xeno-threat.
8	were enclosed from the common space of comet-cowboys, who plague it with their raids to this day.
9	are nestled among the ruins of an extinct alien civilization, probed only gently for fear of waking their automatic guardians.
10	are slowly but surely having their life-giving atmospheres stripped away by the rapacious solar wind of their red gigantism-suffering sun.
11	are deliberately kept ignorant of the wider galactic community to reduce their capacity to revolt, and so that the ruling class can portray themselves as deific through their technological capabilities.
12	are undergoing a long and delicate process of terraforming which structures cultural and religious cycles around these artificial seasons and critical thresholds.
13	are overgrown with a police state only nominally under the staristocrat's authority, and the computational bureaucracy that's arisen to process all their surveillance.
14	are infamous for their permissiveness, and abound in every sort of vice.
15	are torn apart on a planetary scale for the sake of resource-harvest and industry, and what unruptured ground exists is blanketed in choking smog outside sealed habitats.
16	were recently seized from a treasonous vassal and bestowed upon this staristocrat - the old holder's sympathizers still lurk within the population, evading the claws of inquisition.
17	exist mostly fictitiously, as moving shell-games of companies and titles.
18	are centered on an ecumenopolis with some roads paved with stones hewn before humanity's ancestors came down from the trees - its corners hide occultic dens of our darkest imaginings.
19	are generally scorching, deserts or liquid hells, their structures mirrored and extending tubes of heat exchanges and radiators like a seraphim wings.
20	are verdant in all forms of life - none go hungry, yet many are eaten, and a clan of masked physicians go about the populace to rebuke the tides of plague.

D20	This staristocrat is attended by
1	a harem of genetically-engineered Willendorfian Venuses, bearing a continuous stream of heirs who will duel over the matter of their inheritance in the arena of their crèche.
2	artful historians hunchbent over data-tablets, preserving every moment and detail of the staristocrat's life in imperishable crystalline records.
3	nigh-invisible bodyguards swaddled in light-bending metamaterial cloaks, heat haze auras ready to strike down any offense against their master.
4	clanking cyborg-knights - behind their cuirasses are tanks preserving the most loyal and chivalrous parts of their mortal brains.
5	slaves bearing explosive collars - the tribute of many conquered worlds.
6	a squadron of musclebound eunuch-janissaries raised from childhood with size- and strength-stimulating hormones and non-stop brainwashing.
7	clones of themself educated according to various traditions as diverse yet biologically-partial advisors.
8	the cryogenically-preserved heads of their forefathers, which sometimes dispense shivering, crackling counsel.
9	hovering laser-turrets fitted with targeting algorithms able to anticipate their master's desire to kill before it's consciously felt.
10	an enormous parrot with impeccable skill at mimicry, whose mind has been overwritten with every song recorded by humanity up until the time of its creation.
11	a pair of titanic wolfdogs, with metallic teeth that could rend apart a tank and hides that have turned aside artillery-shells.
12	the plush animatronic companion of their childhood, its digital personality updated to be a competent advisor.
13	a caste of butlers who've served their family for generations, bred like pedigreed dogs.
14	a choir singing their praises, the choir's lungs replaced with cybernetic jet-intakes slatted between ribs, so that they might sing unceasing.
15	a former whipping boy, their oldest friend, bearing the delicate scars of tremendously sophisticated tortures.
16	tumbling jesters dressed in patchworks of impossible colours captured from the coronas of half-real suns.
17	technotheologic angels dancing through the air on wings of incandescent blazons.
18	abductees from primitive worlds fitted with neural implants which make them believe they are simply in an extended dream.
19	a team of chefs who can prepare the delicacies of a dozen worlds, never repeating the same twice in their master's lifetime.
20	grey masters of anagathic science, whisper-arguing over the injections and ointments that will quicken them a while longer.

D20	This staristocrat's court
1	is entertained by a vapourous alien intelligence which takes possession of lesser courtiers through a fanciful hookah.
2	has its lesser members partially memory-wiped when they attend it - able to recall their skills, yet unable to remember much of their own identities, and so how to apply those skills for personal benefit.
3	is deliberately, performatively humble, held in barns and suchlike.
4	is overlooked by a cine-dome showing stars, moons, and constellations in fortuitous alignments.
5	is addicted to novelty, and constantly seeks new performances and grotesques.
6	is made up nepotistically of their siblings who did not win the contest to inherit the throne.
7	are waited on hand and foot by fragile ceramic robots imprinted with the tightly-enchained engrams of political criminals.
8	takes place entirely remotely - members are provided radio-devices with frequencies that trigger voice-like vibrations in great bells this staristocrat is in the constant presence of.
9	were at first ironically and now legitimately entranced by a bloody cult of sacrifice and agonies.
10	has been forced to accept elected representatives from among the populace by a revolt - to the grumblings of those who attained their positions through inheritance.
11	is wracked by a scandal involving mistresses overspending from public coffers.
12	is perpetually-wrapped in augmented-reality projections of mythic mimesis.
13	is burrowed among the roots of the biggest mountain of their throne-world, so that it could survive all but the most devastating attacks.
14	are all accompanied by a member of an order of courtesan-assassins implanted with acid-glands in case their charge shows overt disloyalty.
15	solve disputes among themselves with duels, and drill daily with various weapons and fighting styles.
16	is held within a hollow pyramid, with this staristocrat at the top point and many stairs and levels filtering petitioners between them and the entrance at the base.
17	is largely taken over by a conspiracy to poison this staristocrat, and even the uninvolved have begun to circle like vultures.
18	is a ring of stone thrones built to scale with the renown of the one who sits upon them - this staristocrat themself sits like a small child on a throne fit for giants - their seneschal on a stool.
19	is held around a colosseum, where gladiators and vicious alien beasts fight for their amusement and haruspexies.
20	is itinerant, a grand airship which hovers above the realms of hosting vavasours.

D20	This staristocrat's noble flaw
1	is hubris - they believe they can become like God by funding breakneck scientific process.
2	is bravery - they will fight to the last in the face of overwhelming odds, even if better options present themselves.
3	is honour - their thinking is rigid and totally un-utilitarian.
4	is generousity - they give without thinking, disrupting economies and fostering dependence with their largesse.
5	is parental love - they spoil their children on a terrible, cosmic scale.
6	is a thirst for justice - a continent has burned due to their need for a punishment fitting a truly awful crime.
7	is filial piety - their increasingly-senile dowager-mother has them tied around her bony finger.
8	is tolerance - they've cultivated cosmopolitan communities, yet failed to confront division and rising extremism.
9	is an aesthetic sense that is souring into decadence.
10	is persistence - they are a dogged obsessive.
11	is realpolitik - they've alienated possible allies with ruthlessness.
12	is faith - they lean often into outright zealotry.
13	is cautiousness - they often dive into outright paranoia.
14	is competitiveness - they're innovative, but often only in the tortures applied to defeated rivals.
15	is cleanliness - they have advanced to a purgative germaphobia.
16	is contentment - they have come to peace with all things, even if others demand their action.
17	is honesty - they will never lie, even if it benefits them and their people.
18	is is humility - they are overly-convinced of their own incapacity.
19	is romantic love - their spouse manipulates them to their knowledge yet total acquiescence.
20	is imagination - their fancies often end up unproductive or outright destructive.

In the Era of Fear I Comfort them with Great Love
Anita Moorjani was cured from cancer not because of a certain medicine, vaccine or chemotherapy. She was cured because of this Great Love. Anita Moorjani is a forty years old woman who is simple and honest. She was born in India, grew up in Singapore and was English educated. Later she went to Hong Kong. She knows Tamil, English and Cantonese. In 2002 the doctor said that she was down with cancer lymphoma or the blood cell tumor. After four years, in 2006 seventy percent of her body is covered with the cancerous cells. She stayed in the hospital, suffering terribly because of this illness. Later the doctor pronounced her death. After three days she woke up and was cured miraculously. This is truly inconceivable when she woke up from her death. In her mind she was very sure she was cured already. No treatment was needed. But she was very weak. She could not even talk. The doctor was surprised of her condition and again they carried out a checking on her body and found that she was free from all symptoms of cancer. In her mind she knew she was already cured. In her mind there was a great transformation that she personally experienced. And all the cells on her body were transformed into healthy cells. Later she wrote a book entitles: After dying once I finally learn to love’ By looking at this title, it coincides with Master Shan Dao’s teaching on the one with deep faith in the dharma. He said, ‘Standing here is waiting to die. Going forward is also death. Turning back, I too cannot escape from death.’ This can be found in the ‘Analogy of two rivers and one white lane’ the three sure deaths. If we have died once, we will truly give ourselves up. This is the same as the Pure Land teaching that we have to admit we are the sinful mundane man. We lose all hope as we have no ways to leave the triple realm. In cultivation we need to really undergo a total death in order to really practise the path. The zen cultivator says this is known as undergoing great death and great living. Otherwise, no real cultivation can be expected because most of us are very arrogant, very self-centred, without much changes in our stubborn mindset. That is why she said after dying once only she managed to learn how to love. In the Pure Land door this is known as having deep faith. Such a man will surely have faith in Amitabha’s 48 vows to gather in living beings without any doubts and suspicion. By relying on the strength of the Buddha’s Vows we will surely attain a rebirth. This is living in the great love of Namo Amitabha Buddha. We receive the love of Amitabha Buddha. Only then we can have the genuine love and we are able to learn to love. If we do not feel the love of Amitabha Buddha, we will not know how to love. Our love will be frightening as it is an attachment, a desire to control, to possess others. Such a love is impure, it is a threat to us. If we are not careful it might turn into hatred. Such is a frightful kind of love. If we learn from Amitabha Buddha, the love is pure, without condition and transparent. This is truly loving a person. It is not easy to learn this. We look at the couples around us. So many got married and end up in divorce. How about those who do not get a divorce? Yes, they spend the whole life fighting！The truly loving couples are as few as the stars in the broad day light. So, learning to love is our homework for the whole life. It is not easy. Today I would like to discuss this passage with you. After reading her writing I feel most shameful as what the author has said is very true in accord with her experience. Even though I have left home for more than twenty years, receiving the teaching of the Buddha, the guidance of the patriarch, the exhortation of my Master, the help of my lotus friends and all, I still feel I am lacking in genuine practice and virtues. On the contrary this lady has not met with the Buddha Dharma. She has such an awakening after dying once, it is truly a gain for her. She said, ‘After my body stopped functioning, I entered into another world.’ She was so seriously ill that her heart, her liver and everything stopped functioning. This is to show there is a world after death. She said, ‘I saw myself as a very wonderful person. This is because I was not terrorised until I had a change in shape.’ ‘I felt there was this vibrant energy around me and I was able to enter it. I realise if a man can see his wonderful existence, he must be the happiest man.’ Most of us like to complain about our imperfect existence. We often think thus, ‘I do not have enough money. I am not healthy. I am not pretty. I do not have enough clothing ….’ Here we must learn to see the good points in us, to appreciate the value of our existence. A woman who can say like this is truly very calm in mind. A man who always complains about himself will not be able to live happily each day. So, without knowing the love of Amitabha for us, we will be a great complainer. We complain about no money, we complain about our look, our wrinkles and so on and so forth. What kind of life will this be with so many complaints? She said, ‘I found that there was this power surrounding me.’ When we pass away, we will no longer be using our eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body and mind to observe. Instead, we will be awakened to our innate Buddha. She felt she is surrounded by this vibrant field of energy and she is also this energy. What kind of power is this? It is a kind of energy. It is always in the universe or the dharma realm in the Buddhist terms. In fact, this is Amitabha Buddha. This is the strength of the Buddha Nature. She uses her Buddha Nature to experience the Buddha Nature. It exists forever. It is neither born nor become extinct. If the Buddha enters the world or does not enter the world, it is always there without changing. Of course, she does not use these Buddhist terms. She said, ‘When I give up the attachment to the mundane world, I enter another world effortlessly. It is unnecessary to pray, to recite a sutra or to give a dharma talk. It is unnecessary to seek forgiveness, repentance or other methods.’ ‘Death gives me the feeling that I do not need to do anything. It is just as though I am telling someone I am coming to the end. I cannot do anything anymore. I give up. Whatever you want to do I will just accept.’ I feel that this passage is very near in meaning to the Pure Land’s view. It means when we die, we have just to let go as nothing can be done anymore. Most people die in torment as there are many attachments in this world. They are worried about their children, money and work. Some people find it difficult to die. So, from here we must learn to let go when it is our turn to leave the world. Moreover, we have the promise from Amitabha Buddha who will come to receive us in accord with the strength of his vows. It is much easier for us. This lady just let go and she entered another world. Her state should be quite high too. I will explain below. I feel that she had arrived at the border of the Pure Land. Her state of an awakened mind showed that she was not in the heaven. She seemed to be enlightened to the Buddha nature and non -existence of a self. She experienced the light of enlightenment and returned to life, to lead a life of love. So, in our practice we are told to let go of all attachment and to wish for a rebirth in the Pure Land relying on Amitabha’s strength of vows. So from here we can see it is very easy to be born in the World of Ultimate Bliss. She said it is unnecessary to recite a sutra, a dharma or seeking for forgiveness. She enters the other world naturally when she simply gives up herself. I remember once I went with my Master to console a dying man. I was very touched by my Master’s words. He said kindly to the man who is on the verge of death, ‘So and so, now we will recite Namo Amitabha Buddha. If you can recite, then recite together. If you can’t, just lay down and relax. It is ok if you just listen to our recitation.’ Are not these words very comforting? The dying man will feel very safe and relax. But if you were to say, ‘So and so, this is the last chance. Bring out all your strength to face death. If you can recite then recite together. If you cannot recite, you must try also!’ On listening to this threat, the sick man is stressed out. He will die instantly as he has no strength to join in recitation. The Master who with his great love understands the rescue of Amitabha Buddha is a natural process that he is able to say in such a comforting way. No condition is needed. There is no threat nor fright in his words. A man who threatens people is not calm as he must be frightened too in his mind. That is why what he says will frighten people, giving stress to others. If we are loving in our mind, our words will only bring love, peace and calm to others. People will feel our love for them. So, this lady says it is unnecessary to read or recite any prayer or seeking forgiveness. This is because the wavelength of her mind is on a par with the great love of the universe. She naturally enters it. Namo Amitabha Buddha is a dharma that requires no seeking or pleading. It is a dharma of rescue without condition. When we recite Namo Amitabha Buddha, the wavelength of our mind is the same as Amitabha Buddha. So, we will attain a rebirth naturally. Many of us who do not understand the kindness of Amitabha Buddha will seek a rebirth by pleading to the Buddha every day. His mind is unsettled and frightened that he might be left out. This is because he does not understand when he recites the Buddha’s name, the wavelength of his mind is in the same frequency with Amitabha Buddha’s mind and vows. Then people will ask, ‘Do we still go to recite the Buddha’s Name for the dying man?’ ‘Yes, of course.’ This is because the dying man has yet to understand this point. When we recite for him, he will be safe in the shine of Namo Amitabha Buddha. This is a method which is bestowed upon us to save us with this Name in accord with the strength of the Buddha’s vows. When she says to somebody, this refers to Amitabha Buddha. She says she cannot do anything anymore and she gives up. She gives herself up to the Buddha. So, when we die do not try to fight with death and refuse to die. We must just admit we are the offender and we need the help of Amitabha Buddha to take us, to rescue us. Namo is to admit we take refuge in the Buddha, we surrender ourselves. When we cultivate this door, we must not add in our ideas. We must just let Amitabha Buddha to decide for us. This is because Amitabha has the power of great vow, the extensive great strength of the Buddha Nature, the strength of immeasurable light, the strength of immeasurable lifespan. We just have to give up all planning. He will plan for us. So, when we recite the Name of the Buddha, just recite without thinking of doing this or that trying so hard to reach a certain acceptable standard. These are all unnecessary. This type of thinking is the habit of the sagely path cultivators. When we sit on the plane, just sit there. The plane will bring you to your destiny. It is unnecessary for you to help the plane to fly. Amitabha Buddha the pilot does not need you to fly the plane. If he needs your help then he is not known as Amitabha Buddha. Anita said, ‘In the other world, I found that my mind is very clear and bright. I realise by myself that I will only die out of the fear and terror in my mind.’ These words are very true. Clarity of mind means her mind is pure. In this world our mind is turbid, dark and deluded. That is why are enveloped in all kinds of worries and terror. But once we arrive at the Pure Land, we will naturally be pure and bright. This is because the land is pure and is enveloped in bright illumination. She said she naturally know she will be cured. This knowing ability is possessed by us originally. No learning is needed because our Buddha nature is originally pure and bright. In the Saha world our ability is being covered up by afflictions. But when we arrive at the World of Ultimate Bliss, we will naturally possess this ability. This ability reappears relying on the strength of Vows of Amitabha Buddha. When we arrive at the Pure Land, we will naturally possess the ability to make offerings to the Buddha. On hearing one sentence we are enlightened to the millions. Our mind is opened up to the thousands of million Dharanis. Everyone of us have this innate ability. And Amitabha Buddha’s strength of Vows enhances its opening. In this Saha World our innate nature is all covered up and cannot function. In the world of ultimate bliss, by relying on Amitabha Buddha’s strength of great vows, our innate ability is open up. So they are not contradicting. ‘I naturally know the source of the thought that I will die. The source is I was frightened. If there is no fear, there is no death.’ In actuality there is no death. It is only our fear of death that this illusion comes froth. In Buddha dharma we should know death itself is an illusion. Time is also an illusion. That is why the Buddha speaks all the Sutra in this manner, ‘Thus have I heard, at one time the Buddha was…..’ No specific time is stated. Now the physics has proven its illusory. As time is an illusion, it does not exist. Let me give you an example of what is meant by death. It is as if we are driving a car into a tunnel. The shape of the tunnel resembles that of a tomb. And we keep on driving into it. We say we are entering the tomb, that we are going to die soon. We are threatened as the entrance represents death. We continue on our journey in the tunnel and later leave the tunnel, again travelling on our way to another destiny. The entrance of the tunnel, the funeral wreath looks like the tomb. For us, death is a terrible idea that we are fearful of it. We do not know life is a continuity and there is no death. It is our wrong concept that there is this section of birth and death. No one can do anything about it until they personally realise it. ‘I am unable to live out my real self as I have too much worried.’ Most of us live in this world wearing a mask. If everyone of us is free to show our real self this is the most beautiful side of a self. Why cannot we live the way we should live? It is because we are always burdened with worries. We are worried we are not good enough. We are worried that our parents will scold us. We are worried our teacher will get angry and criticize us. We are worried about losing face. We only live for others. We lose our life away trying to accord to others’ expectation. We lose the light of a happy life. Our life is controlled by all these worrisome thoughts. But if we truly recite the Buddha’s Name, our mind will be at ease. Amitabha Buddha takes away our worries by replacing them with Namo Amitabha Buddha. We will realise all these worries and views are not important and we will gradually pay no attention to them. Our true life is Buddha recitation. That is our real identity. Our mind will be at ease as we will pay no attention to those unreal things, words and ideas. Our worries only arise when we care too much about the mundane matters. The author has not learnt about Buddhism. This is her experience in death. What she has written is very personal, true experience, not something that we learn from a book. Her experience gives her an awakening to the reality of life and she lives out her life in this awakening. I saw her video and I feel she is an enlightened person. An enlightened person may not be replete with spiritual penetration. But she will reveal her love in her daily living. She is calm at ease and without any sense of fear in her mind. She leads her life in a genuine way. She said, ‘I know that cancer is not a punishment neither is it a retribution. Cancer is my energy capacity which reveals itself on my body. Because of my fear I am unable to reveal the beautiful self in me. And this is the job which should be carried out by me. I know that cancer is not a punishment which is forced on me. It is not an external force of retribution.’ This is what we often do when certain things happen, we will try to find an excuse or put the blame on reward or retribution. We treat the misfortune with anger and hatred. We often have this tendency to catogorise every happening in accord with the cause or reason. In Buddhism we talk about cause and effect. As she is not a Buddhist she says, ‘Cancer appears as a result of a change in my energy capacity. This energy shows itself in the form of cancer.’ This is because she lives in fear and worries. She does not live out her real happy self. So if we the Buddha recitation cultivators are able to reveal the bright side of life, to live without worries, there will be no more cancer for us. This is her understanding about life. That is why I have often said, ‘Lead a life of a mundane man and recite the Buddha’s Name sincerely.’ We should lead a life of Amitabha Buddha. Our life will be full of light and blessings. And we will become more loving. Finally we will lead a comfortable life and people around us will be comfortable also. This itself is the propagation of the dharma of love. Otherwise, if we cannot live a loving life, there is no point talking about anything as they will be useless. Anita said, ‘In that state which is vast and limitless, I found that I am too strict with myself. I keep on whipping myself.’ Can we feel the existence of being vast and limitless? No. We are often limited by our surrounding. As she had entered the limitless vastness, she is able to know her whole life. She knows her fault is being too strict with herself. In fact, most of us are very strict with ourselves, demanding ourselves to be like this or that. She said, ‘No one is punishing me. The person whom I cannot forgive is I myself. I have abandoned myself. I do not love myself. This matter is none of others’ business.’ No one from outside comes to punish us. It is we who punish ourselves. We cannot forgive our selves. We add on a lot of unnecessary locks and chains on ourselves. What is more for us the Buddha reciters? If we recite the Buddha’s name and on the other hand, we add on ourselves lots of locks and chains whence Amitabha Buddha is trying to unlock us, isn’t this a most pitiful situation?’ She said that she had abandoned herself. It means we throw ourselves away and become a lone ranger, an isolated person living a life of sadness, a live without love. Look at a baby. Her eyes are clear as the baby is a simple being, just like a simple puppies or baby cat. The baby can play with chickens, puppis as she does not give rise to diffentiation. Not everyone of us is like Anita. But every one of us can recite the Buddha’s name. When we recite the Buddha’s name, we will be calm. Amitabha Buddha said, ‘In the world of fear I comfort them with great love.’ It is because all the worries are gone when we accomplish Buddhahood at the Pure Land. We will not be so worried about our poverty, health problem, ugliness, stupidity, inability to recite a sutra, a mantra. All these are unimportant as finally I will become a Buddha in the Buddha Land. We will be more humorous. For example, if we are ugly we will use it as a joke. It does not matter at all. Because all the external states are not you. The real self, our real life is the Buddha’s Name. It is our true identity. It will bring ease to our mind. A baby is pure. But as it grows up, it starts to abandon himself. A baby resembles a glass of pure water. When he grows up, his greed starts to accumulate when he wants a toy, a book, good results, money, benefits, fame women and so on. All these are placed in the glass of water. Everything is a piece of mud that we put in out glass. The more we put into the glass, the more the water will flow out. This water is the genuine self. We abandon the true self, chase it out with our greed. We fill ourselves with all the rubbish. The genuine blessings and bliss are chased away. We lead an opaque life without transparency. Our life become a glass of muddy water and we live in great torment. The more we obtain, the more we lose ourselves. That is why the Buddha is truly kind. He and his disciples lead a life of a beggar. When you have nothing, you will be happy and relax. The mind retains its purity. Human beings are deluded as they think to possess a wife, children, a house, a car are called blessings. A man who truly loves himself does not love money, sex, fame, food, sleep. These five desires are the knives that will cut us into pieces and bring on great sufferings. Anita said, ‘I realise I am the child of the beautiful universe. As long as I exist, I will obtain this unconditional love.’ This is very good. I would like to make the following changes, ‘I realize that I am the son of the adorned Amitabha Buddha.’ In Buddhism we use adorned to replace the word beautiful. The universe is this Amitabha Buddha. In the Sutra we are told Amitabha Buddha is the Treasury Body of the Dharma Realm. Amitabha Buddha exists in the whole of the Dharma Realm. Of course, there are also the reward body and transformation bodies beside the dharma body. Amitabha Buddha is the immeasurable wisdom and lifespan. Anita says that the universal energy is abundant and inexhaustible, vast and without limits. This is the existence of the Buddha Nature. She says as long as she exists, she will surely obtain the unconditional love. I often also say, ‘No conditions are required for us to receive the love and rescue of Amitabha Buddha.’ Let us take the analogy of a tree. As long as it exists, it will receive the sunlight. No other condition is needed. So it is the same for the house and everything on earth. Amitabha Buddha’s Name is also known as the Light that Far-surpassing the Sun and Moon. Amitabha Buddha’s light pervasively illumines all the living beings and things in the world. As long as we exist, we will receive the light of the Buddha, the protection of his loving kindness and rescue. It is unnecessary for us to become somebody so as to receive the unconditional rescue of Amitabha Buddha. Our Master Hui Jing also wrote a book on the ‘Unconditional Rescue of the Buddha.’ Some people cannot believe. He says, ‘If this is the case everyone will commit evils.’ Such a thinking is negative and full of fear as his mind is dwelling in darkness. He is afraid that the world will go upside down. He cannot understand that as long as there is the existence, may they be a cat, a dog, a hell being, they will be taken care of by Amitabha Buddha. The only condition is they exist. This reminds me of the words of Great Master Tan Luan, ‘The future scholars who hear about the rescue of the Buddha, the rescue that relies on other’s strength, he should give rise to faith. Do not refuse such a chance. It is being stupid.’ Do not think that you should do this and that to obtain the rescue? Amitabha Buddha did not ask you to do anything. He says, ‘Living beings in the ten directions who have faith in me.’ It means they exist and the Buddha will be there to save them. Buddha recitation is not a condition. It is just a method of saving. Anita says, ‘I do not have to do anything to obtain this love.’ Just like a blade of grass in the water. Does it need to do anything to obtain water? It is unnecessary. As long as it exists, it is surrounded by the water. As long as we exist, we are surrounded by the love of Amitabha Buddha. We do not need to do anything to obtain this love and care. Once we know this, we will be fearless and calm at ease. This is the same as the sunlight which shine on the mountain and also the valley. In our life no matter what level we are we will receive the illumination of Amitabha Buddha. Anita says, ‘No prayer, no seeking is needed.’ Amitabha’s rescue is there always. As long as we recite, we will be saved by him. Amitabha Buddha says, ‘All living beings in the ten directions who call on me will be saved by me. You only have to say out my name.’ You say you are dumb and cannot call the name. Such a man who understands the rescue of Buddha will also be saved even if he cannot pronounce the Name. But if you are unwilling, you are creating an obstacle for yourself. That is why our dharma door is known as the ‘The Dharma is taught without being asked.’, the ‘Befriend us without being asked’. As long as we trust him, he will come personally to take us to his Pure Land. On hearing that nothing is needed to be done, some will be confused. They want to do something, to clean the altar, to change the water, to offer some fruits and incense, to sit in meditation and so on. They think this will help them to attain a rebirth. They have to do something. They do not realise what they need to do is to reveal the beautiful self, to lead the adorned life and let themselves become the love. As long as we sit there and lead a loving life we are in accord with the love of the Buddha Amitabha. When the sun is shining, you say, ‘It is good. A shiny day.’ When it is raining, you say, ‘Very good. It is raining now.’ When it snows, you say, ‘Good, I love snow.’ This way of living is to add the positive loving energy to this universe. You are spreading the pure and harmony energy to the universe. In the Buddha Dharma it is known as the lights shine on one another. The whole universe will receive the positive energy of your loving and harmonious mind. So, what you need to do is to recite Namo Amitabha Budda loudly, softly, silently. All will be ok. If we live this way, Amitabha Buddha will be most happy to see us. It is just like a child who is sleeping in the cradle. Doing nothing. What do you think? Will the mother be happy to see him like that? Yes, of course. She will be very glad with him just sleeping there. Nothing has to be done. A child in the arms of his mother is the revelation of total trust. And this is the same for us to be in the arms of Amitabha Buddha. We just relax and trust him. We will lead a happy life. And this is the genuine way of living in accord with the love of oneself. More often than not we lead a life with worries, fear, twisted emotions and trying to cover up our faults. Our adorned life cannot be revealed. Everyday, we live in fear and worries. This is adding chains and locks to ourselves. Anita says, ‘I have never truly loved myself before. I have never valued my existence. I have never seen the adorned soul in me.’ She uses soul to describe herself. In the Buddha Dharma this refers to the beauty and adorned Buddha Nature. She said, ‘I am so beautiful yet I have never realised it. It is replaced with the hard facts of mundane existence. I decay because I do not understand my beautiful soul.’ In the Buddha Dharma it is described as all living beings are originally the Buddha. Yet we do not live, in accord with our Buddha Nature. We are often controlled by our mundane existence, the salary, the examination results and such like. We forget of our Buddha Nature. We lead a life of decay, a life of erosion. This is the General path of Buddhism. From the angle of Buddha Recitation, the rescue of Amitabha is always with us, only that we do not realise it. We try all kinds of methods hoping for the Buddha to rescue us. We do not know that we just have to admit we are the mundane men who are covered with offences. There is no other way to save ourselves if we do not rely on Amitabha Buddha. Then we let go and recite the Buddha’s Name wholeheartedly. This is the way to be saved by the Buddha. But most people cannot understand this. They want to do something good, to be pretentious and make out something good of himself, to scold people for their lacking in virtues and such like. This is against the practise of this pure land door. Why cannot the people in the world see their pretention? It is because they are also not living a true life. Their eyes are not clear enough to see through this pretention. A fake man sees something fake and he will treat it as genuine. A clear -headed man will surely be able to see through all these false masks. If we were to wear a false mask for too long it will be difficult to remove it. It has grown on to our skin. It will be painful if we want to remove this fake mask. So it takes time for us to loosen this false mask as we have been wearing them for too long. Anita says, ‘This understanding makes me realise that I do not have to be frightened anymore.’ There is no more fear in her mind. It is a mind of calm and bliss. It is a mind which is full of hope. It is a comforting mind that can soothe others. With this calm and happy mind it is already a contribution to all around us. It is already a protection and mindfulness to all around us. We do not have to do anything at all. Most of us live in fear. We pay for insurance because we are afraid when we get old, we have no money, no money to pay the medical fees. We get married out of fear that we will be lonely. Why do we give birth to children? We are afraid no one will take care of us at old age. Why do we go to school? It is because we are afraid of our mother’s anger. Why must we study hard? We are afraid of our teacher. Why do we go to university? We are afraid people will look down on us. Can we live without fear? We cannot. Even our mother who loves us so much say we will suffer if we do not study hard. From our young age we receive the education of fear. We are threatened by our beloved parents, our responsible teachers. We do not receive the education of love. So, if we love our children, do not add fear to them. We must give only love and courage so that they can face life with their original positive energy, positive strength. This is because the world is full of twisted people, fake people, suffering people. There are very few upright men, genuine men, happy and hopeful men around. I only hope all of you my lotus friends will bring up a future generation who is upright, genuine, happy and hopeful with the strength of Amitabha Buddha. So, we must lead a life based on the right values taught by Amitabha Buddha. If we teach our child to fight for self -benefit, to contend with others, we are making them blind so that they do not see the truth of life. This is harming them. If we are enlightened to this, we will only rely on Amitabha Buddha. We are not afraid to be lonely. We will be at ease. Those who see the light, the warmth of the Buddha will no longer be frightened. Anita says, ‘I realise this is a state that can be reached by myself and everyone.’ In Zen sect it is said all living beings are Buddha. In the Buddha recitation door, everyone can recite the Name, everyone can attain a rebirth and everyone can accomplish Buddhahood. This is the bestowment by Amitabha Buddha. All the things that we fight for may not be beneficial to us. Everything that benefits us are often free. For example, the air we take in every instant is free. We do not pay to stand on the earth. We do not pay to look at the sky above. Whatever we fight and earn to get are valueless. Everything that is valuable is free. In the general practice it is said, ‘No cultivation is the cultivation. Nothing is obtainable. This is the state of a bodhisattva. The original face of all dharma often dwells in the mark of still extinction. Our Buddha Nature is replete with all merits and virtues. We cannot cultivate anything to enhance it. This is because all the things that we can do are only dreams, illusion, bubbles and shadow. Whatever that we do, that we create are not in accord with our Buddha Nature. The Buddha Nature is always there, original and shining out naturally. And in our Pure Land Dharma, whatever we have offered, whatever we have done are not the causes for our attainment of a rebirth. Attaining a rebirth is the state of nothing doing. It stays apart from creation or doing. It is a natural state. Reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha helps us to return to this state. Anita said, ‘So I decided to return to the mundane world.’ She has enlightened to the opportunity of life and she decided to come back to tell us about life. Just like many Pure Land cultivators who say that they will not come back any more to sufferings. Yet when they arrive at the Pure Land and brings forth the Bodhi mind, they will come back by themselves to help other beings. Anita said, ‘When I was on the verge of death, I realised the universe comes forth from unconditional love. I am one of the revelations of this love in my present form.’ For the scientists they will say the universe is made from electron, protons, neutrons and so on. This is talking only at the surface level, the materials. But as she talked from her true experienc,e she can see all the things, all the people are the expression of this universal love. When she comes back from death, she deeply penetrates the genuine love the mother universe and her wavelength is in accord with the universal love. She comes back as a healthy woman. So once there is a change in our mind set, the body, the people and the surroundings will also change. In the eyes of Buddha and Bodhisattva there is no differentiation of filth and purity. Everything is pure and adorned in its own expression. Every one of us is the art piece of this unconditional love or in the Buddha’s words, the Buddha Nature. She said, ‘I cannot change into another form as it is my original expression, original nature of this unconditional love.’ Everything that exists is the expression of the Buddha Nature. Even something which is defiled or unwholesome is also part of the expression of this unconditional everlasting love. That is why the Buddha says, ‘All the Dharma from the original state dwells constantly in still extinction.’ Still extinction refers to Nirvana the state of the Buddha. So, when we recite the Buddha’s Name we will enter the Buddha’s dwelling. ‘The energy capacity of the strength of life forms derives from love. And I am made from the universal energy capacity. On knowing this, I realise I do not need to become somebody else. And my true value will not be depreciated too.’ Anita said, So, it is unnecessary for us to become another man. A business man does not need to become Jack Ma. Why is this so? It is because you are equal to him. He is not higher than you. He has the Buddha Nature and you also have the Buddha Nature. Every one is equal. So we do not need to measure in terms of money especially if we truly know the benefits of Buddha recitation. In the eyes of the Buddha every one of us is a shining star. We do not need to chase after another star. Just imagine the havoc it will be when the stars do not dwell in its orbit and try to chase after another star. What a chaos the universe will become. Everyone of our existence is in perfect conditions in the eyes of the Buddha and Bodhisattva. ‘This is the I that I have always wanted to be.’ she said. We must learn to appreciate ourselves, accept ourselves and love ourselves. This ‘I’ is invaluable under the unconditional love of the Rescue of Amitabha Buddha. We are his precious sons, the pearls on his hand. If we are accepted by the Buddha, we will be so happy as we will have no complaint about ourselves. We are often surrounded by people who keep on complaining about us. The first one is our mother who says that we are not clever, we have low marks. We are not filial. We earn too little. See how our mother teaches us not to appreciate ourselves. Then we are blamed by our teacher, our classmates, our girl -friend and so on. Then comes Amitabha Buddha who studies us and says, ‘Put aside all the complaints. You are qualified to attain Buddhahood. No problem at all. I give you 100 percent.’ That is why we Buddha Recitation Practitioners are always at ease under the shine of Amitabha Buddha who give us the confirmation. This is the greatest benefits the Buddha bestows upon us. Buddhism brings hope and bliss to the world, the universe. So, in this life’s time we must try our best to lead a life of Amitabha Buddha. Do not be swayed by the mundane values, mundane eyes, mundane perspective. We rely only on the outlook of the Buddha and Bodhisattva. ‘Once we know that we are this love, it is unnecessary to purposely go forth to shower love on others. As long as we are faithful to our original nature, we will automatically become the tools of love, touching the hearts of everyone who have affinity with us.’ This part of her speech is very good. If we are already the lamp, there is no need for us to go out purposely to shine on others. The lamp just stands at its place and it manages to brighten up the place. So, when we are the LOVE, we will naturally touch those around us with our love. Take a look at our Master Hui Jing. He sits there quietly and yet every one of us are calm and happy naturally. So when we become the love, wherever we are, all will feel calm at ease, without any fear. Anita said, ‘The most important thing I have learnt is I am the Love itself. All my fears are gone. This is the reason I come into life again.’ Amitabha Buddha said, ‘I will transform all the fear into great calmness, great serenity’ When We recite His Name we are charged with his love. We also become the love. We will leave behind all fear. ‘My dear, you will always be loved. You do not need to harbour any fear. There is no way for you to commit any errors.’ Always think about these three sentences. There is the light of truth in it. This is spoken by a non -Buddhist who was on the verge of her death and who lives again. How about us the Buddha Recitation Practitioners? Can we deny the love of Amitabha Buddha, His unconditional love of rescue? From this story we know the unconditional love of rescue of the Buddha pervasively surrounds us. We must have faith in this and lead a life of joy with no more fear. Nowadays, everyone lives in fear. We must learn to replete ourselves with love and bring this shine to others, to lead them out of fear. Love yourself and love others. Namo Amitabha Buddha. A dharma talk by Dharma Master Shi Jing Zong, the Abbot of the Hong Yuan Monastery in Anhui, China entitled: Dying Once to Learn to Love Link: https://oridharma.wordpress.com/2020/05/16/in-the-era-of-fear-i-comfort-them-with-great-love/

In the Era of Fear I Comfort them with Great Love
Anita Moorjani was cured from cancer not because of a certain medicine, vaccine or chemotherapy. She was cured because of this Great Love. Anita Moorjani is a forty years old woman who is simple and honest. She was born in India, grew up in Singapore and was English educated. Later she went to Hong Kong. She knows Tamil, English and Cantonese. In 2002 the doctor said that she was down with cancer lymphoma or the blood cell tumor. After four years, in 2006 seventy percent of her body is covered with the cancerous cells. She stayed in the hospital, suffering terribly because of this illness. Later the doctor pronounced her death. After three days she woke up and was cured miraculously. This is truly inconceivable when she woke up from her death. In her mind she was very sure she was cured already. No treatment was needed. But she was very weak. She could not even talk. The doctor was surprised of her condition and again they carried out a checking on her body and found that she was free from all symptoms of cancer. In her mind she knew she was already cured. In her mind there was a great transformation that she personally experienced. And all the cells on her body were transformed into healthy cells. Later she wrote a book entitles: After dying once I finally learn to love’ By looking at this title, it coincides with Master Shan Dao’s teaching on the one with deep faith in the dharma. He said, ‘Standing here is waiting to die. Going forward is also death. Turning back, I too cannot escape from death.’ This can be found in the ‘Analogy of two rivers and one white lane’ the three sure deaths. If we have died once, we will truly give ourselves up. This is the same as the Pure Land teaching that we have to admit we are the sinful mundane man. We lose all hope as we have no ways to leave the triple realm. In cultivation we need to really undergo a total death in order to really practise the path. The zen cultivator says this is known as undergoing great death and great living. Otherwise, no real cultivation can be expected because most of us are very arrogant, very self-centred, without much changes in our stubborn mindset. That is why she said after dying once only she managed to learn how to love. In the Pure Land door this is known as having deep faith. Such a man will surely have faith in Amitabha’s 48 vows to gather in living beings without any doubts and suspicion. By relying on the strength of the Buddha’s Vows we will surely attain a rebirth. This is living in the great love of Namo Amitabha Buddha. We receive the love of Amitabha Buddha. Only then we can have the genuine love and we are able to learn to love. If we do not feel the love of Amitabha Buddha, we will not know how to love. Our love will be frightening as it is an attachment, a desire to control, to possess others. Such a love is impure, it is a threat to us. If we are not careful it might turn into hatred. Such is a frightful kind of love. If we learn from Amitabha Buddha, the love is pure, without condition and transparent. This is truly loving a person. It is not easy to learn this. We look at the couples around us. So many got married and end up in divorce. How about those who do not get a divorce? Yes, they spend the whole life fighting！The truly loving couples are as few as the stars in the broad day light. So, learning to love is our homework for the whole life. It is not easy. Today I would like to discuss this passage with you. After reading her writing I feel most shameful as what the author has said is very true in accord with her experience. Even though I have left home for more than twenty years, receiving the teaching of the Buddha, the guidance of the patriarch, the exhortation of my Master, the help of my lotus friends and all, I still feel I am lacking in genuine practice and virtues. On the contrary this lady has not met with the Buddha Dharma. She has such an awakening after dying once, it is truly a gain for her. She said, ‘After my body stopped functioning, I entered into another world.’ She was so seriously ill that her heart, her liver and everything stopped functioning. This is to show there is a world after death. She said, ‘I saw myself as a very wonderful person. This is because I was not terrorised until I had a change in shape.’ ‘I felt there was this vibrant energy around me and I was able to enter it. I realise if a man can see his wonderful existence, he must be the happiest man.’ Most of us like to complain about our imperfect existence. We often think thus, ‘I do not have enough money. I am not healthy. I am not pretty. I do not have enough clothing ….’ Here we must learn to see the good points in us, to appreciate the value of our existence. A woman who can say like this is truly very calm in mind. A man who always complains about himself will not be able to live happily each day. So, without knowing the love of Amitabha for us, we will be a great complainer. We complain about no money, we complain about our look, our wrinkles and so on and so forth. What kind of life will this be with so many complaints? She said, ‘I found that there was this power surrounding me.’ When we pass away, we will no longer be using our eyes, ears, nose, tongue, body and mind to observe. Instead, we will be awakened to our innate Buddha. She felt she is surrounded by this vibrant field of energy and she is also this energy. What kind of power is this? It is a kind of energy. It is always in the universe or the dharma realm in the Buddhist terms. In fact, this is Amitabha Buddha. This is the strength of the Buddha Nature. She uses her Buddha Nature to experience the Buddha Nature. It exists forever. It is neither born nor become extinct. If the Buddha enters the world or does not enter the world, it is always there without changing. Of course, she does not use these Buddhist terms. She said, ‘When I give up the attachment to the mundane world, I enter another world effortlessly. It is unnecessary to pray, to recite a sutra or to give a dharma talk. It is unnecessary to seek forgiveness, repentance or other methods.’ ‘Death gives me the feeling that I do not need to do anything. It is just as though I am telling someone I am coming to the end. I cannot do anything anymore. I give up. Whatever you want to do I will just accept.’ I feel that this passage is very near in meaning to the Pure Land’s view. It means when we die, we have just to let go as nothing can be done anymore. Most people die in torment as there are many attachments in this world. They are worried about their children, money and work. Some people find it difficult to die. So, from here we must learn to let go when it is our turn to leave the world. Moreover, we have the promise from Amitabha Buddha who will come to receive us in accord with the strength of his vows. It is much easier for us. This lady just let go and she entered another world. Her state should be quite high too. I will explain below. I feel that she had arrived at the border of the Pure Land. Her state of an awakened mind showed that she was not in the heaven. She seemed to be enlightened to the Buddha nature and non -existence of a self. She experienced the light of enlightenment and returned to life, to lead a life of love. So, in our practice we are told to let go of all attachment and to wish for a rebirth in the Pure Land relying on Amitabha’s strength of vows. So from here we can see it is very easy to be born in the World of Ultimate Bliss. She said it is unnecessary to recite a sutra, a dharma or seeking for forgiveness. She enters the other world naturally when she simply gives up herself. I remember once I went with my Master to console a dying man. I was very touched by my Master’s words. He said kindly to the man who is on the verge of death, ‘So and so, now we will recite Namo Amitabha Buddha. If you can recite, then recite together. If you can’t, just lay down and relax. It is ok if you just listen to our recitation.’ Are not these words very comforting? The dying man will feel very safe and relax. But if you were to say, ‘So and so, this is the last chance. Bring out all your strength to face death. If you can recite then recite together. If you cannot recite, you must try also!’ On listening to this threat, the sick man is stressed out. He will die instantly as he has no strength to join in recitation. The Master who with his great love understands the rescue of Amitabha Buddha is a natural process that he is able to say in such a comforting way. No condition is needed. There is no threat nor fright in his words. A man who threatens people is not calm as he must be frightened too in his mind. That is why what he says will frighten people, giving stress to others. If we are loving in our mind, our words will only bring love, peace and calm to others. People will feel our love for them. So, this lady says it is unnecessary to read or recite any prayer or seeking forgiveness. This is because the wavelength of her mind is on a par with the great love of the universe. She naturally enters it. Namo Amitabha Buddha is a dharma that requires no seeking or pleading. It is a dharma of rescue without condition. When we recite Namo Amitabha Buddha, the wavelength of our mind is the same as Amitabha Buddha. So, we will attain a rebirth naturally. Many of us who do not understand the kindness of Amitabha Buddha will seek a rebirth by pleading to the Buddha every day. His mind is unsettled and frightened that he might be left out. This is because he does not understand when he recites the Buddha’s name, the wavelength of his mind is in the same frequency with Amitabha Buddha’s mind and vows. Then people will ask, ‘Do we still go to recite the Buddha’s Name for the dying man?’ ‘Yes, of course.’ This is because the dying man has yet to understand this point. When we recite for him, he will be safe in the shine of Namo Amitabha Buddha. This is a method which is bestowed upon us to save us with this Name in accord with the strength of the Buddha’s vows. When she says to somebody, this refers to Amitabha Buddha. She says she cannot do anything anymore and she gives up. She gives herself up to the Buddha. So, when we die do not try to fight with death and refuse to die. We must just admit we are the offender and we need the help of Amitabha Buddha to take us, to rescue us. Namo is to admit we take refuge in the Buddha, we surrender ourselves. When we cultivate this door, we must not add in our ideas. We must just let Amitabha Buddha to decide for us. This is because Amitabha has the power of great vow, the extensive great strength of the Buddha Nature, the strength of immeasurable light, the strength of immeasurable lifespan. We just have to give up all planning. He will plan for us. So, when we recite the Name of the Buddha, just recite without thinking of doing this or that trying so hard to reach a certain acceptable standard. These are all unnecessary. This type of thinking is the habit of the sagely path cultivators. When we sit on the plane, just sit there. The plane will bring you to your destiny. It is unnecessary for you to help the plane to fly. Amitabha Buddha the pilot does not need you to fly the plane. If he needs your help then he is not known as Amitabha Buddha. Anita said, ‘In the other world, I found that my mind is very clear and bright. I realise by myself that I will only die out of the fear and terror in my mind.’ These words are very true. Clarity of mind means her mind is pure. In this world our mind is turbid, dark and deluded. That is why are enveloped in all kinds of worries and terror. But once we arrive at the Pure Land, we will naturally be pure and bright. This is because the land is pure and is enveloped in bright illumination. She said she naturally know she will be cured. This knowing ability is possessed by us originally. No learning is needed because our Buddha nature is originally pure and bright. In the Saha world our ability is being covered up by afflictions. But when we arrive at the World of Ultimate Bliss, we will naturally possess this ability. This ability reappears relying on the strength of Vows of Amitabha Buddha. When we arrive at the Pure Land, we will naturally possess the ability to make offerings to the Buddha. On hearing one sentence we are enlightened to the millions. Our mind is opened up to the thousands of million Dharanis. Everyone of us have this innate ability. And Amitabha Buddha’s strength of Vows enhances its opening. In this Saha World our innate nature is all covered up and cannot function. In the world of ultimate bliss, by relying on Amitabha Buddha’s strength of great vows, our innate ability is open up. So they are not contradicting. ‘I naturally know the source of the thought that I will die. The source is I was frightened. If there is no fear, there is no death.’ In actuality there is no death. It is only our fear of death that this illusion comes froth. In Buddha dharma we should know death itself is an illusion. Time is also an illusion. That is why the Buddha speaks all the Sutra in this manner, ‘Thus have I heard, at one time the Buddha was…..’ No specific time is stated. Now the physics has proven its illusory. As time is an illusion, it does not exist. Let me give you an example of what is meant by death. It is as if we are driving a car into a tunnel. The shape of the tunnel resembles that of a tomb. And we keep on driving into it. We say we are entering the tomb, that we are going to die soon. We are threatened as the entrance represents death. We continue on our journey in the tunnel and later leave the tunnel, again travelling on our way to another destiny. The entrance of the tunnel, the funeral wreath looks like the tomb. For us, death is a terrible idea that we are fearful of it. We do not know life is a continuity and there is no death. It is our wrong concept that there is this section of birth and death. No one can do anything about it until they personally realise it. ‘I am unable to live out my real self as I have too much worried.’ Most of us live in this world wearing a mask. If everyone of us is free to show our real self this is the most beautiful side of a self. Why cannot we live the way we should live? It is because we are always burdened with worries. We are worried we are not good enough. We are worried that our parents will scold us. We are worried our teacher will get angry and criticize us. We are worried about losing face. We only live for others. We lose our life away trying to accord to others’ expectation. We lose the light of a happy life. Our life is controlled by all these worrisome thoughts. But if we truly recite the Buddha’s Name, our mind will be at ease. Amitabha Buddha takes away our worries by replacing them with Namo Amitabha Buddha. We will realise all these worries and views are not important and we will gradually pay no attention to them. Our true life is Buddha recitation. That is our real identity. Our mind will be at ease as we will pay no attention to those unreal things, words and ideas. Our worries only arise when we care too much about the mundane matters. The author has not learnt about Buddhism. This is her experience in death. What she has written is very personal, true experience, not something that we learn from a book. Her experience gives her an awakening to the reality of life and she lives out her life in this awakening. I saw her video and I feel she is an enlightened person. An enlightened person may not be replete with spiritual penetration. But she will reveal her love in her daily living. She is calm at ease and without any sense of fear in her mind. She leads her life in a genuine way. She said, ‘I know that cancer is not a punishment neither is it a retribution. Cancer is my energy capacity which reveals itself on my body. Because of my fear I am unable to reveal the beautiful self in me. And this is the job which should be carried out by me. I know that cancer is not a punishment which is forced on me. It is not an external force of retribution.’ This is what we often do when certain things happen, we will try to find an excuse or put the blame on reward or retribution. We treat the misfortune with anger and hatred. We often have this tendency to catogorise every happening in accord with the cause or reason. In Buddhism we talk about cause and effect. As she is not a Buddhist she says, ‘Cancer appears as a result of a change in my energy capacity. This energy shows itself in the form of cancer.’ This is because she lives in fear and worries. She does not live out her real happy self. So if we the Buddha recitation cultivators are able to reveal the bright side of life, to live without worries, there will be no more cancer for us. This is her understanding about life. That is why I have often said, ‘Lead a life of a mundane man and recite the Buddha’s Name sincerely.’ We should lead a life of Amitabha Buddha. Our life will be full of light and blessings. And we will become more loving. Finally we will lead a comfortable life and people around us will be comfortable also. This itself is the propagation of the dharma of love. Otherwise, if we cannot live a loving life, there is no point talking about anything as they will be useless. Anita said, ‘In that state which is vast and limitless, I found that I am too strict with myself. I keep on whipping myself.’ Can we feel the existence of being vast and limitless? No. We are often limited by our surrounding. As she had entered the limitless vastness, she is able to know her whole life. She knows her fault is being too strict with herself. In fact, most of us are very strict with ourselves, demanding ourselves to be like this or that. She said, ‘No one is punishing me. The person whom I cannot forgive is I myself. I have abandoned myself. I do not love myself. This matter is none of others’ business.’ No one from outside comes to punish us. It is we who punish ourselves. We cannot forgive our selves. We add on a lot of unnecessary locks and chains on ourselves. What is more for us the Buddha reciters? If we recite the Buddha’s name and on the other hand, we add on ourselves lots of locks and chains whence Amitabha Buddha is trying to unlock us, isn’t this a most pitiful situation?’ She said that she had abandoned herself. It means we throw ourselves away and become a lone ranger, an isolated person living a life of sadness, a live without love. Look at a baby. Her eyes are clear as the baby is a simple being, just like a simple puppies or baby cat. The baby can play with chickens, puppis as she does not give rise to diffentiation. Not everyone of us is like Anita. But every one of us can recite the Buddha’s name. When we recite the Buddha’s name, we will be calm. Amitabha Buddha said, ‘In the world of fear I comfort them with great love.’ It is because all the worries are gone when we accomplish Buddhahood at the Pure Land. We will not be so worried about our poverty, health problem, ugliness, stupidity, inability to recite a sutra, a mantra. All these are unimportant as finally I will become a Buddha in the Buddha Land. We will be more humorous. For example, if we are ugly we will use it as a joke. It does not matter at all. Because all the external states are not you. The real self, our real life is the Buddha’s Name. It is our true identity. It will bring ease to our mind. A baby is pure. But as it grows up, it starts to abandon himself. A baby resembles a glass of pure water. When he grows up, his greed starts to accumulate when he wants a toy, a book, good results, money, benefits, fame women and so on. All these are placed in the glass of water. Everything is a piece of mud that we put in out glass. The more we put into the glass, the more the water will flow out. This water is the genuine self. We abandon the true self, chase it out with our greed. We fill ourselves with all the rubbish. The genuine blessings and bliss are chased away. We lead an opaque life without transparency. Our life become a glass of muddy water and we live in great torment. The more we obtain, the more we lose ourselves. That is why the Buddha is truly kind. He and his disciples lead a life of a beggar. When you have nothing, you will be happy and relax. The mind retains its purity. Human beings are deluded as they think to possess a wife, children, a house, a car are called blessings. A man who truly loves himself does not love money, sex, fame, food, sleep. These five desires are the knives that will cut us into pieces and bring on great sufferings. Anita said, ‘I realise I am the child of the beautiful universe. As long as I exist, I will obtain this unconditional love.’ This is very good. I would like to make the following changes, ‘I realize that I am the son of the adorned Amitabha Buddha.’ In Buddhism we use adorned to replace the word beautiful. The universe is this Amitabha Buddha. In the Sutra we are told Amitabha Buddha is the Treasury Body of the Dharma Realm. Amitabha Buddha exists in the whole of the Dharma Realm. Of course, there are also the reward body and transformation bodies beside the dharma body. Amitabha Buddha is the immeasurable wisdom and lifespan. Anita says that the universal energy is abundant and inexhaustible, vast and without limits. This is the existence of the Buddha Nature. She says as long as she exists, she will surely obtain the unconditional love. I often also say, ‘No conditions are required for us to receive the love and rescue of Amitabha Buddha.’ Let us take the analogy of a tree. As long as it exists, it will receive the sunlight. No other condition is needed. So it is the same for the house and everything on earth. Amitabha Buddha’s Name is also known as the Light that Far-surpassing the Sun and Moon. Amitabha Buddha’s light pervasively illumines all the living beings and things in the world. As long as we exist, we will receive the light of the Buddha, the protection of his loving kindness and rescue. It is unnecessary for us to become somebody so as to receive the unconditional rescue of Amitabha Buddha. Our Master Hui Jing also wrote a book on the ‘Unconditional Rescue of the Buddha.’ Some people cannot believe. He says, ‘If this is the case everyone will commit evils.’ Such a thinking is negative and full of fear as his mind is dwelling in darkness. He is afraid that the world will go upside down. He cannot understand that as long as there is the existence, may they be a cat, a dog, a hell being, they will be taken care of by Amitabha Buddha. The only condition is they exist. This reminds me of the words of Great Master Tan Luan, ‘The future scholars who hear about the rescue of the Buddha, the rescue that relies on other’s strength, he should give rise to faith. Do not refuse such a chance. It is being stupid.’ Do not think that you should do this and that to obtain the rescue? Amitabha Buddha did not ask you to do anything. He says, ‘Living beings in the ten directions who have faith in me.’ It means they exist and the Buddha will be there to save them. Buddha recitation is not a condition. It is just a method of saving. Anita says, ‘I do not have to do anything to obtain this love.’ Just like a blade of grass in the water. Does it need to do anything to obtain water? It is unnecessary. As long as it exists, it is surrounded by the water. As long as we exist, we are surrounded by the love of Amitabha Buddha. We do not need to do anything to obtain this love and care. Once we know this, we will be fearless and calm at ease. This is the same as the sunlight which shine on the mountain and also the valley. In our life no matter what level we are we will receive the illumination of Amitabha Buddha. Anita says, ‘No prayer, no seeking is needed.’ Amitabha’s rescue is there always. As long as we recite, we will be saved by him. Amitabha Buddha says, ‘All living beings in the ten directions who call on me will be saved by me. You only have to say out my name.’ You say you are dumb and cannot call the name. Such a man who understands the rescue of Buddha will also be saved even if he cannot pronounce the Name. But if you are unwilling, you are creating an obstacle for yourself. That is why our dharma door is known as the ‘The Dharma is taught without being asked.’, the ‘Befriend us without being asked’. As long as we trust him, he will come personally to take us to his Pure Land. On hearing that nothing is needed to be done, some will be confused. They want to do something, to clean the altar, to change the water, to offer some fruits and incense, to sit in meditation and so on. They think this will help them to attain a rebirth. They have to do something. They do not realise what they need to do is to reveal the beautiful self, to lead the adorned life and let themselves become the love. As long as we sit there and lead a loving life we are in accord with the love of the Buddha Amitabha. When the sun is shining, you say, ‘It is good. A shiny day.’ When it is raining, you say, ‘Very good. It is raining now.’ When it snows, you say, ‘Good, I love snow.’ This way of living is to add the positive loving energy to this universe. You are spreading the pure and harmony energy to the universe. In the Buddha Dharma it is known as the lights shine on one another. The whole universe will receive the positive energy of your loving and harmonious mind. So, what you need to do is to recite Namo Amitabha Budda loudly, softly, silently. All will be ok. If we live this way, Amitabha Buddha will be most happy to see us. It is just like a child who is sleeping in the cradle. Doing nothing. What do you think? Will the mother be happy to see him like that? Yes, of course. She will be very glad with him just sleeping there. Nothing has to be done. A child in the arms of his mother is the revelation of total trust. And this is the same for us to be in the arms of Amitabha Buddha. We just relax and trust him. We will lead a happy life. And this is the genuine way of living in accord with the love of oneself. More often than not we lead a life with worries, fear, twisted emotions and trying to cover up our faults. Our adorned life cannot be revealed. Everyday, we live in fear and worries. This is adding chains and locks to ourselves. Anita says, ‘I have never truly loved myself before. I have never valued my existence. I have never seen the adorned soul in me.’ She uses soul to describe herself. In the Buddha Dharma this refers to the beauty and adorned Buddha Nature. She said, ‘I am so beautiful yet I have never realised it. It is replaced with the hard facts of mundane existence. I decay because I do not understand my beautiful soul.’ In the Buddha Dharma it is described as all living beings are originally the Buddha. Yet we do not live, in accord with our Buddha Nature. We are often controlled by our mundane existence, the salary, the examination results and such like. We forget of our Buddha Nature. We lead a life of decay, a life of erosion. This is the General path of Buddhism. From the angle of Buddha Recitation, the rescue of Amitabha is always with us, only that we do not realise it. We try all kinds of methods hoping for the Buddha to rescue us. We do not know that we just have to admit we are the mundane men who are covered with offences. There is no other way to save ourselves if we do not rely on Amitabha Buddha. Then we let go and recite the Buddha’s Name wholeheartedly. This is the way to be saved by the Buddha. But most people cannot understand this. They want to do something good, to be pretentious and make out something good of himself, to scold people for their lacking in virtues and such like. This is against the practise of this pure land door. Why cannot the people in the world see their pretention? It is because they are also not living a true life. Their eyes are not clear enough to see through this pretention. A fake man sees something fake and he will treat it as genuine. A clear -headed man will surely be able to see through all these false masks. If we were to wear a false mask for too long it will be difficult to remove it. It has grown on to our skin. It will be painful if we want to remove this fake mask. So it takes time for us to loosen this false mask as we have been wearing them for too long. Anita says, ‘This understanding makes me realise that I do not have to be frightened anymore.’ There is no more fear in her mind. It is a mind of calm and bliss. It is a mind which is full of hope. It is a comforting mind that can soothe others. With this calm and happy mind it is already a contribution to all around us. It is already a protection and mindfulness to all around us. We do not have to do anything at all. Most of us live in fear. We pay for insurance because we are afraid when we get old, we have no money, no money to pay the medical fees. We get married out of fear that we will be lonely. Why do we give birth to children? We are afraid no one will take care of us at old age. Why do we go to school? It is because we are afraid of our mother’s anger. Why must we study hard? We are afraid of our teacher. Why do we go to university? We are afraid people will look down on us. Can we live without fear? We cannot. Even our mother who loves us so much say we will suffer if we do not study hard. From our young age we receive the education of fear. We are threatened by our beloved parents, our responsible teachers. We do not receive the education of love. So, if we love our children, do not add fear to them. We must give only love and courage so that they can face life with their original positive energy, positive strength. This is because the world is full of twisted people, fake people, suffering people. There are very few upright men, genuine men, happy and hopeful men around. I only hope all of you my lotus friends will bring up a future generation who is upright, genuine, happy and hopeful with the strength of Amitabha Buddha. So, we must lead a life based on the right values taught by Amitabha Buddha. If we teach our child to fight for self -benefit, to contend with others, we are making them blind so that they do not see the truth of life. This is harming them. If we are enlightened to this, we will only rely on Amitabha Buddha. We are not afraid to be lonely. We will be at ease. Those who see the light, the warmth of the Buddha will no longer be frightened. Anita says, ‘I realise this is a state that can be reached by myself and everyone.’ In Zen sect it is said all living beings are Buddha. In the Buddha recitation door, everyone can recite the Name, everyone can attain a rebirth and everyone can accomplish Buddhahood. This is the bestowment by Amitabha Buddha. All the things that we fight for may not be beneficial to us. Everything that benefits us are often free. For example, the air we take in every instant is free. We do not pay to stand on the earth. We do not pay to look at the sky above. Whatever we fight and earn to get are valueless. Everything that is valuable is free. In the general practice it is said, ‘No cultivation is the cultivation. Nothing is obtainable. This is the state of a bodhisattva. The original face of all dharma often dwells in the mark of still extinction. Our Buddha Nature is replete with all merits and virtues. We cannot cultivate anything to enhance it. This is because all the things that we can do are only dreams, illusion, bubbles and shadow. Whatever that we do, that we create are not in accord with our Buddha Nature. The Buddha Nature is always there, original and shining out naturally. And in our Pure Land Dharma, whatever we have offered, whatever we have done are not the causes for our attainment of a rebirth. Attaining a rebirth is the state of nothing doing. It stays apart from creation or doing. It is a natural state. Reciting Namo Amitabha Buddha helps us to return to this state. Anita said, ‘So I decided to return to the mundane world.’ She has enlightened to the opportunity of life and she decided to come back to tell us about life. Just like many Pure Land cultivators who say that they will not come back any more to sufferings. Yet when they arrive at the Pure Land and brings forth the Bodhi mind, they will come back by themselves to help other beings. Anita said, ‘When I was on the verge of death, I realised the universe comes forth from unconditional love. I am one of the revelations of this love in my present form.’ For the scientists they will say the universe is made from electron, protons, neutrons and so on. This is talking only at the surface level, the materials. But as she talked from her true experienc,e she can see all the things, all the people are the expression of this universal love. When she comes back from death, she deeply penetrates the genuine love the mother universe and her wavelength is in accord with the universal love. She comes back as a healthy woman. So once there is a change in our mind set, the body, the people and the surroundings will also change. In the eyes of Buddha and Bodhisattva there is no differentiation of filth and purity. Everything is pure and adorned in its own expression. Every one of us is the art piece of this unconditional love or in the Buddha’s words, the Buddha Nature. She said, ‘I cannot change into another form as it is my original expression, original nature of this unconditional love.’ Everything that exists is the expression of the Buddha Nature. Even something which is defiled or unwholesome is also part of the expression of this unconditional everlasting love. That is why the Buddha says, ‘All the Dharma from the original state dwells constantly in still extinction.’ Still extinction refers to Nirvana the state of the Buddha. So, when we recite the Buddha’s Name we will enter the Buddha’s dwelling. ‘The energy capacity of the strength of life forms derives from love. And I am made from the universal energy capacity. On knowing this, I realise I do not need to become somebody else. And my true value will not be depreciated too.’ Anita said, So, it is unnecessary for us to become another man. A business man does not need to become Jack Ma. Why is this so? It is because you are equal to him. He is not higher than you. He has the Buddha Nature and you also have the Buddha Nature. Every one is equal. So we do not need to measure in terms of money especially if we truly know the benefits of Buddha recitation. In the eyes of the Buddha every one of us is a shining star. We do not need to chase after another star. Just imagine the havoc it will be when the stars do not dwell in its orbit and try to chase after another star. What a chaos the universe will become. Everyone of our existence is in perfect conditions in the eyes of the Buddha and Bodhisattva. ‘This is the I that I have always wanted to be.’ she said. We must learn to appreciate ourselves, accept ourselves and love ourselves. This ‘I’ is invaluable under the unconditional love of the Rescue of Amitabha Buddha. We are his precious sons, the pearls on his hand. If we are accepted by the Buddha, we will be so happy as we will have no complaint about ourselves. We are often surrounded by people who keep on complaining about us. The first one is our mother who says that we are not clever, we have low marks. We are not filial. We earn too little. See how our mother teaches us not to appreciate ourselves. Then we are blamed by our teacher, our classmates, our girl -friend and so on. Then comes Amitabha Buddha who studies us and says, ‘Put aside all the complaints. You are qualified to attain Buddhahood. No problem at all. I give you 100 percent.’ That is why we Buddha Recitation Practitioners are always at ease under the shine of Amitabha Buddha who give us the confirmation. This is the greatest benefits the Buddha bestows upon us. Buddhism brings hope and bliss to the world, the universe. So, in this life’s time we must try our best to lead a life of Amitabha Buddha. Do not be swayed by the mundane values, mundane eyes, mundane perspective. We rely only on the outlook of the Buddha and Bodhisattva. ‘Once we know that we are this love, it is unnecessary to purposely go forth to shower love on others. As long as we are faithful to our original nature, we will automatically become the tools of love, touching the hearts of everyone who have affinity with us.’ This part of her speech is very good. If we are already the lamp, there is no need for us to go out purposely to shine on others. The lamp just stands at its place and it manages to brighten up the place. So, when we are the LOVE, we will naturally touch those around us with our love. Take a look at our Master Hui Jing. He sits there quietly and yet every one of us are calm and happy naturally. So when we become the love, wherever we are, all will feel calm at ease, without any fear. Anita said, ‘The most important thing I have learnt is I am the Love itself. All my fears are gone. This is the reason I come into life again.’ Amitabha Buddha said, ‘I will transform all the fear into great calmness, great serenity’ When We recite His Name we are charged with his love. We also become the love. We will leave behind all fear. ‘My dear, you will always be loved. You do not need to harbour any fear. There is no way for you to commit any errors.’ Always think about these three sentences. There is the light of truth in it. This is spoken by a non -Buddhist who was on the verge of her death and who lives again. How about us the Buddha Recitation Practitioners? Can we deny the love of Amitabha Buddha, His unconditional love of rescue? From this story we know the unconditional love of rescue of the Buddha pervasively surrounds us. We must have faith in this and lead a life of joy with no more fear. Nowadays, everyone lives in fear. We must learn to replete ourselves with love and bring this shine to others, to lead them out of fear. Love yourself and love others. Namo Amitabha Buddha. A dharma talk by Dharma Master Shi Jing Zong, the Abbot of the Hong Yuan Monastery in Anhui, China entitled: Dying Once to Learn to Love
https://oridharma.wordpress.com/2020/05/16/in-the-era-of-fear-i-comfort-them-with-great-love/

Seeing as the housing app for first years is due tomorrow, I thought I would talk about my experience living in Foothill this past school year!
Some background about me, I just finished my first year, I am intended Computer Science, and I was living in a double in a mini-suite at Foothill.

• First and foremost, Foothill is on the North side of campus and it is quite literally at the top of a hill, so probably the biggest thing, prepare for a lot of stairs and walking (since Foothill is far from everything, especially South side); It was hell in the summer because it was so hot and on top of that I had to climb up all those stairs. Foothill is technically the closest dorm to campus since you just have to cross the street and you're on campus (closest buildings are Hearst Memorial Mining and Evans), and buildings like Soda and Sutardja Dai hall are really close, but it’s far from buildings like Wheeler or Dwinelle, which is where the majority of my classes were at.
• Rooms: I was in a double so the room was pretty spacious but I've heard that rooms in Foothill in general are bigger than in the Units. It was a suite so the outside door is to enter the suite and then there's the rooms (kinda like an apartment floor). Including my room and the RA, there were 9 rooms. My floor had a kinda bad ant problem towards the end of Fall semester but that might've been because of our snacks idk
• Laundry: I'm not 100% sure about this but I'm pretty sure the laundry room is for everyone at Foothill which is like 5 buildings so it can get really busy, especially since there's always at least one broken washer or dryer. At the beginning of the year, I planned to do laundry Sundays but I guess that’s a common day since it would be busy like all day, but I think that’s also just how it’s like at the beginning of the year
• Dining Hall: Apparently it’s the best dining hall?? That’s what the streets say and I would somewhat agree, it’s sometimes the better of dining halls. I think my top dining halls are Foothill and Cafe 3. There's really good Mexican food like once every two weeks but other than that the menu is usually hit-or-miss
• Rec room: has a piano, pool table, and ping pong. Sometimes RA's will host events there and the Foothill association this year put some great events there with free food
• Gym: Foothill has a small gym, it has 2 treadmills, one bike machine, one stair master, one leg press, one chest press, and one for pull-ups. It’s pretty small, I usually go to rsf, the main gym. It's about a 15-minute walk from Foothill if you’re a slow walker like me or probably closer to 10ish minutes if ur a fast walker or tall. Students automatically get in the gym with their Cal 1 card which you just scan to get in.
• Greek theatre: Foothill is right next to the Greek theatre (which is a concert venue), and throughout the year quite a few people performed there, the only ones I remember are Flume and Daniel Caesar. Apparently Lana Del Rey has also performed there before. It can get really loud, like you can basically hear everything, which is kinda nice if it’s someone you like, but it can sometimes get annoying. If you close your windows though it does somewhat block the sound out
• Social life: It's really quiet (except when there are concerts at the Greek Theatre) and I feel like it’s definitely not as social as the units which is personally why I didn't really like Foothill. Southside (where the units are) embodies college town since people are out all the time and it’s a very lively environment with a lot of food and boba places and such, while Northside is wayyy more quiet and nothing really goes on over here. There's a small food court nearby with Indian food, Subway, Korean corn dogs, aaand I think 2 other places that I forgot but that’s pretty much it. There's also a Mexican restaurant and frozen yogurt further down the hill but that's all
• Safety: Like I said, nothing ever really goes on in Northside. In a sense, it is safer than Southside. I think in the entire school year, there were only like one or two warn me's for incidents occurring on Northside, whereas they were more frequent on Southside. On the other hand, in Southside there are people out almost at all times so I don't think I would feel necessarily "unsafe" there. I think it goes for any place tho to not walk alone at night and to carry some form of self-defense

Overall, I'd rate it like a 5/10. if you're really introverted, like it quiet, and enjoy nature a lot, then Foothill is great for you. If not, then definitely go for the Units. Let me know if yall have any other questions ab Foothill life or Berkeley life in general!

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

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^{Last Update: 07:15:02-16/05 IST}

It's been a slow day, so l'm looking for some good people to get to know. I live on the east coast, but have lived in different parts of the country. I enjoy being active, lifting, running, and swimming. I'm currently between semester in my masters program, so l have a lot of spare time.
When I'm not at work or in school I like to go camping, take my dog to the beach, kayak, or practice my shooting or archery.
Let's talk!

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

It’s been a slow day, so I’m looking for some good people to get to know. I live on the east coast, but have lived in different parts of the country. I enjoy being active, lifting, running, and swimming. I’m currently between semester in my masters program, so I have a lot of spare time.
When I’m not at work or in school I like to go camping, take my dog to the beach, kayak, or practice my shooting or archery.
Let’s talk!

Mr. Winslow accused my mother of stealing his dead wife’s jewelry.
I explained it was impossible. He was welcome to search the tiny apartment I shared with my mother and aunt, he could look wherever he wanted.
“We share a tiny space,” I said. “We barely have enough room for our clothes. I don’t even know where she would hide jewelry.”
I was worried we would lose him as a client. Which would suck because cleaning his house was basically the majority of our rent cheque. But a week later he found the pearl necklace, it had somehow travelled down to his basement.
“I’m still missing the gold bangle though,” he said. “And some earrings.”
I told him I was sorry, but I had no idea. If my mom or aunt found it on their next clean, I promised they would let him know right away.
He hummed and hawed. There might’ve been a week where he hired a different maid service, but eventually he called back, asking if he could hire all three of us on-site again.
I thanked him profusely. I told him we’d keep an eye out for the missing valuables.
***
On our drive over, I had my mom and aunt practice the apology we would give him in English. Even though we didn’t steal anything, I explained we should still say sorry.
“Why?” My aunt asked. “That’s so stupid.”
“Everyone apologizes for everything in Canada. Just trust me. He will want it.”
“We need the work,” my mom said.
For a second my aunt revved up to say something else, but then let it go. We did need the work.
When we arrived, Mr. Winslow was on a phone call, watching his two large goldendoodles play in the front yard. He waved, then gestured to the front door. My mom and aunt gave small bows and carried their cleaning supplies inside.
Before I could enter, he put the phone behind his ear and approached me.
“Ida, hi. Good to see you again. Listen, don't worry about the jewelry. Water under the bridge. Hey. I’m leaving in an hour or so, and I won’t be back until late tonight. I’m wondering if you’d be interested in dog-sitting? You’ve been around Toto and Kipper. What do you think? I’d really appreciate the help.”
I never liked the way he looked at me. It was always too close, and it lingered for too long. My aunt may have been right in that he hired us back just to see me again, but I ignored the thought.
“And don’t worry, I can cover your cab back. My usual walker is just out on holiday. You can help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge. How does six hundred sound?”
I looked at his house and imagined if I would be comfortable there. Alone at night.
“I’ll make it seven-hundred. I know it's last minute. I just hate leaving them alone. Plus Toto has his medicine. You would do me a real solid.”
My apron needed adjusting so I put down my bucket. I focused on the polyester knot, keeping my gaze away from his. I really didn’t want to be doing this, but my aunt would call me stupid for refusing easy money. And frankly, so would I.
“I had plans, but I’m willing to give them up.” I said with a straight face. “Eight hundred and it’s a done deal.”
He paused for a second, observing me scrupulously. Then he found his usual, smarmy half-smile. “You’re a life saver, you know that? An Angel.”
His hand gripped my shoulder. Then patted it twice.
***
Both my mom and aunt were pleased about the extra cash, they said I deserved to make extra for all the bookkeeping I do. But they also both voiced their concerns for safety. They said they could stay with me if I wanted.
“Safety? Mamãe I’m just watching two dogs.”
My mom wiped a caked red stain off his counter. An old wine spill. “Yes, but so late in his house? You’re not worried he might … I don’t know …”
Might what? Exploit me?
I met his groundskeeper once, another immigrant contractor. Except the groundskeeper was being paid far less, because he never properly negotiated. Mr. Winslow was certainly capable of exploiting people when he wanted to, and I’m sure he would try the same on my family.
But I was different. I’d gone to school in Banniver, and I knew the little maneuvers played by the so-called “progressive people in North America.”
And Winslow knew it too.
He didn’t realize a Canadian-raised daughter organized her mom’s cleaning service. Or that she would show up on the first day as a statement. That statement being: You can’t get away with mistreating these old Brazilian women. And you certainly can’t swindle them out of the going rates in his neighborhood. I’m onto you.
I had asserted myself with this Mr. Winslow, and felt confident that I could stand my ground if he tried any bullshit.
“Mamãe I’m not worried about him. Really, I’m not. He’s a pushover.”
***
6:00PM rolled around, it was just me and the goldendoodles.
My mom and aunt were back at home, watching low-res soaps on a Macbook, but they said if I encountered anything strange—a sound, a smell, an unexpected car in the driveway—to give them a call right away.
“Mamãe, its two dogs. I’ll be fine.”
“Just keep your phone close Ida. Your auntie has sensed things in that house. Unpleasant things.”
I forgot to mention my aunt thinks of herself as an amateur medium. In the village she grew up in, she claimed she could sometimes see people who were recently deceased.
But I never really believed her. Mostly because it was also my auntie’s idea to charge families who wanted to forward messages to the very same people who were recently deceased.
“Okay mamãe, whatever you say. I’ll phone you if I get scared.”
“That house has a history Ida, you could feel it in the walls. The outside too.”
It sure does. A history of being owned by a wealthy prick.
***
The sun slinked below the overcast horizon like a dying lantern. It got dark much faster than I expected.
I kept all the lights on, and played with the dogs a bit, trying to encourage them to try piss on the shag rug. Neither did. They mostly wanted naps.
I tried napping for a bit too, but the leather couch felt like it was made of rock. I just couldn’t get comfortable.
Eventually I made myself dinner—some pasta that had been bought from Whole Foods—and ate it while scrolling on my phone.
I was just about done, ready to take my dirty plate in the sink when I first heard it.
The first explosion.
It came from the basement. A vibrating KAPOW that rattled the windows and chandelier on my floor. It sounded like someone had set off a cherry bomb.
What the hell?
I turned to the dogs who were just as scared as I was. They came whimpering with tails between their legs.
Could a pipe have burst or something?
I looked at the basement door, an area we were not instructed to clean, and then heard another explosion.
Vases shook. A painting went tilted. It sounded louder. Like full grade firework. I had lived in Rio de Janeiro, by Prianha beach, where they often launched celebratory fireworks. This was just as deafening.
I didn’t want to go down to the basement. In fact, I sat by the front door.
Both dogs huddled around me.
***
Twenty minutes passed. It had been quiet.
Out of pride I refused to call my mom—I didn’t want to admit I was scared. Instead, I spent the time going through all the rational answers in my head that could explain away the noise. Plumbing, terrorism, teen pranks … hot springs?
There were hot springs all over West Bann.
Obviously, some kind of pent-up geyser had lay dormant for a while, and it was now suddenly unleashing a ton of energy below Mr. Winslow’s house. To distract myself, I Wikipedia’d the history of West Banniver, and satisfied this theory.
During the 1850’s gold rush, West Banniver saw rapid settlement as a mining town. The proliferation of mine shafts soon led to a discovery of underground hot springs. Mayfield Briggs Ltd which was the first company to seize the opportunity as a tourist attraction…
That’s all it was. A hot spring releasing a buildup of pressure.
Then a third explosion came.
It was so loud and violent that the door to the basement flew open. I fell to the ground and covered my head as several books went flying off nearby shelves.
The dogs yipped and barked like crazy. They stood in front of me, guarding against an unseen force. A voice shrieked from the basement.
“HELP!!! HELLLLP!”
Rivets shot through my hands and knees. I was frozen to the floor.
“PLEEEEEEASE!”
It had the high-pitched desperation of someone whose life was about to end. I raised my head and listened closely to hear haggard, dusty coughing. It sounded like an old man’s cough. It echoed through the basement and into the living room. Between coughs the man continued to plead for his life.
HELLLLP!”
I had no idea who it could be or how he got down there.
Before I could think, one of the dogs shot past me, bolting down the basement steps, barking ferociously.
“Kipper!”
I tried to grab the loose leash, but I could only hold the collar of his sibling. “Kipper come back here!”
“HELLO?” The voice from below seemed to recognize my presence. “PLEASE, YOU’VE GOT TO HELP!”
I was now upright, breathing as fast as Toto was panting. I tied Toto to the thick rails on the stairs. I had to save the other dog.
Instinctually I grabbed my phone, slipped an AirPod in one ear, and dialed my mother without even looking at the screen.
“Mãe. There’s … something terrible is happening.”
My mother was suitably confused. Even more so when she heard the screaming of the man downstairs as his voice echoed in the living room. It was a cry of immense, awful pain.
After two slower, more detailed explanations of what I just heard, my mother told me to call the fire department. “Poke your head through the basement, see what’s happening. Then call the fire department.”
That made sense to me. I inched my way to the basement entrance and tried to see past the doorway. It was complete darkness. There was no light switch.
I turned the torch on my phone, and my aunt’s voice came blaring. “Get out of there Ida! I am telling you, there is darkness in that house!”
As I illuminated the dusty wooden stairs, I saw that they only lead only to more pitch black. Yup, plenty of darkness here.
There was some phone-wrestling. My mother came back on. “What is it? What did you see?”
“Don’t encourage her! Get her to leave!” my auntie yelled in the background.
I told them to pipe down because I could suddenly hear the gentle whimpering at the base of the stairs. The dog sounded close.
“Kipper come! This way! Follow my voice!”
I went down a few steps further, expecting the basement floor to appear any second, but there were only more wooden steps. How long was this staircase?
“Kipper?”
There was a flat, cold wall on my left, and no guard rail to speak of. I stepped down each step very carefully to maintain my balance, sliding my hand along the wall.
Then the wall disappeared. I flew forward.
***
I woke up lying face-first on rocky floor. My phone was cracked next to me. My mother was crying in my ear. “Ida! Ida! Oh my god! Ida!”
I looked up to see I was not at the bottom of someone’s basement. There were lights all above me. Lanterns. They were illuminating a cavernous, rocky chamber that led to many tunnels with train tracks and wooden carts. I was in the opening of a massive underground mine.
I coughed, and gave out a weak “… what?”
“Ida is that you? Are you… brrzzzzz” My mom’s voice faded.
Before I could reply, I saw the crooked form of a man in tan coveralls, shaking the immobile body of another person in coveralls next to him. In fact, there was a small row of half a dozen miners all slumped against a blasted rock wall. There were bits of granite, wood, rope, and what looked like entrails splattered all throughout.
“Oh the cruelty …” the one, standing miner said. He went from body to body and jostled each of his coworkers. “Must I find you all like this … every time?”
I crawled up to a half-standing pose and tried to see the face of the hunched over survivor.
My heart dropped.
He had no face.
The explosion which must have killed some of friends had also blasted away this man’s entire sternum, neck and skull. The miner wasn’t hunched over or leaning away with his head, he just simply … had no head.
And up there, floating right in the middle of where his face should be, were a set of eyeballs, glistening under the yellow lights.
The eyes turned to me. “Oh. Why hello. Hello there.”
Terrified, I rose to complete standing and opened both my palms in a show of total deference. “I don’t know. I don’t know who you are or what this is.”
The headless miner walked toward me. I noticed he carried a pickaxe in his right arm. He gestured with his left to where his ear would be.
“I’m sorry I can’t hear you. Had an accident.”
Despite him having no head, his voice still came from where his mouth would be. There was an earnestness in his speech, it might have had something to do with his very old-timey accent, but I still felt like he was trying to be friendly.
“Another batch of faulty dynamite. Everyone’s dead. But what else is new.”
He brought his left palm to his face, perhaps to wipe away tears, but instead his hand travelled through his nonexistent head to scratch a small portion of his back.
“Been dead for many years I’m afraid. But I’ve kept busy. Been a good man. Worked very hard for the boss upstairs.”
He gestured upwards with the pickaxe. I looked up, and out in the distance, I saw a large, ancient, set of wooden stairs that I must have fallen from. They extended far up into the mine’s ceiling and kept going.
“He’s gotten good ore from me. Good, shining, golden ore. I have a knack for it you see. The same knack that killed me so many years ago. It's probably what’s still keeping me around though.”
He came closer. I could see he had brown irises, with one of the cataracts deteriorating into milky white haze. The eyes stared at me, unblinking.
“Because I’m not done, see. This mine isn’t empty. I know there’s more gold. Much more. And it’s not all for the boss. No, I’m keeping some to myself. Don’t tell him, but I’ve been stashing a large deposit for myself. It can’t all be his of course. It’s my mine after all. Half these tunnels were dug entirely by me. So of course I deserve some. It’s only natural.”
I lifted my hand and pointed at the staircase behind him. I mouthed very big, obvious words. “I have to go back. I’m going back up those stairs.”
He shifted his body. His two eyes turned in the air as if they were still inside an invisible skull. I saw nerve endings at the back undulate and twist.
“Yes, that is the only way up.”
My heart was in my throat. At least I found some form of communication. I gestured to knee height and nervously asked if he had seen a “large, shaggy dog.”
“Ah yes. I’ve seen the pooches. They come down here sometimes. When the booms don’t scare em that is. Hahah.”
I gave a thumbs up. It felt like a ridiculous interaction with a ghost, or zombie or whatever this was, but at least it was working.
“I think I saw his little tail run over that way. They like the smell of the mineral spring.”
I turned behind to see the long tunnel he was pointing at. It was dimly lit by a chain of smaller lanterns.
I thought I saw a flutter of movement, and I would have kept looking further if it wasn’t for my aunt’s voice that suddenly exploded in my ear. “Brrrzt … Ida! If you can hear us, we are calling the police to your location. Help is coming soon! … ”
I winced and stepped back—which saved my life. I just so happened to step right out of the way of a pickaxe. It sparked the ground.
I gasped and stared at the headless miner. His eyes were shimmering with a dark focus, staring directly at mine.
“Oh I’ll help you find the dog. I’ll help you find whatever you want. But I’ll need those clean new eyes of yours first.”
He swung at my head. I ducked. He went for the backswing. I ran.
Stupidly, I ran in the opposite direction of the stairs. I ran straight into the long tunnel lined with dim lanterns.
But I couldn’t turn around. I had no idea how quick he could move. And the speed of his pickaxe felt supernatural.
The tunnel was narrow, and lined with wooden tracks, I had to skip-run-jump over the panels with immense precision to make sure I didn’t trip. Behind me, his voice chased.
“Go ahead. Run. I know where these all lead.”
I ignored the words and kept going. The tunnel bent left, then right, then left again. I ignored several exits before the tunnel spat me out into an open, cavernous room filled with dozens and dozens of minecarts.
I investigated the room for anything useful. A far opposite wall appeared to be the site of the latest digging, loose rock lay everywhere.
There was a small mineshaft holding a chained up cart. And something in the cart shimmered…
It was gold.
And not just ore either. There were bars, coins, medallions, and jewelry. Mrs. Winslow’s bangles were right on top.
I ran to the cart furthest from the entrance and ducked behind it, breathing heavily, coughing from all the dust.
The headless man emerged from the tunnel, pickaxe raised and scanning where I could have hid. “I may not be able to hear you. But I can follow footprints pretty easily hah. I know you’re in here.”
He grabbed the closest minecart available and pushed it into the tunnel entrance. With an immense show of strength, he lifted and dislodged the cart off the track, cramming it sideways, creating a massive obstacle.
I was sealed inside.
Trying to stay absolutely still, I coughed through my teeth. Lungs burning. My mom’s voice came through.
“Brrzzztt… The police should be there! I told them you were in danger! They said they sent a unit over. Maybe they broke down the front door?”
I looked up at the mine shaft next to me. If it did connect to the surface upstairs, this was my only chance.
I gave a couple good yells. “HEEEEELP!!! DOWN HERE!! HELP!”
I don’t know if it did any good, but it was better than nothing. I turned to see if the miner had heard anything.
He hadn't.
The pickaxe tapped and clanged awkwardly around minecart after minecart.
I had a bigger advantage than I thought.
Although the miner had two floating eyeballs, only the left one was really capable of seeing anything.
So I kept my distance and watched where he was going, always staying behind.
As he limped and peered around minecarts, I was able to evade him, move from behind rock piles and other carts, careful not to leave a trail in the rock dust.
It was all going well until I heard a familiar panting.
“Oh look. If it isn’t precious.”
The dog had managed to jump over the miner’s blockade. It must have heard my yells. Surprisingly, Kipper was unafraid of the headless villain, and even approached him to receive pets.
“Now why don’t you go say hello to our other friend here huh? I know she's here somewhere.”
No. Kipper. Please. Don’t.
The dog started sniffing. Within seconds he found my scent. Kipper skipped towards me like Lassie and excitedly licked my face.
“Aww there we are. Now isn’t that a good boy?”
I stood up and stared at the filthy, ash-stained coveralls. Despite the lack of teeth, I could sense a menacing grin where the mouth should be.
He wasn't going to lose sight of me now. I had nowhere to go.
So I did the thing my auntie said worked on all spirits. I fell to my knees and prayed.
“Please. I only came here for work. I’m too young to die. Let me go and I won't tell anyone that you're here.”
He stood over me. Both of his pupils started to quiver. In just a few seconds, his eyes were swimming excitedly within the space of his head.
I took off the only valuable I had. A gold necklace with a miniature version of Christ the Redeemer. A gift I had received as a teen in Rio. I held it out in my shaking hands.
“Please. Take it. Take everything.”
Suddenly both the eyeballs stared forward again, entranced by the gold.
“Well look at that. How generous. How generous of her. We should reward generosity shouldn’t we?”
***
It was hard for me to describe to the police officer how exactly I got out, because I have no idea.
The fiery pain where my eyes used to be overwhelmed my entire reality for hours. All I wanted was for it to stop.
They found me half inside a dumbwaiter bleeding to death from the gouges in my face.
I was taken to the hospital, where I would spend the next four weeks recovering.
The police did not in fact storm the house like my mom said. They waited outside for the homeowner to return. But when they heard my screams coming from the top floor, they broke the back door and eventually came to my rescue.
I’m told they did a thorough investigation but could not find any of the things I described.
The basement door led into a regular basement. It was filled with old furniture, unused decor, and paint cans. No Mine.
The dumbwaiter was also just a dumbwaiter. It wasn’t some mine shaft, and it didn’t lead any deeper than the basement. Nothing special.
There were definitely hot springs close by, but nothing close enough to damage Mr. Winslow's property. And there was an old, depleted gold mine not far away either, but it was completely abandoned, closed off, and nowhere near as big as the one I had described.
***
The police, paramedics and doctors all thought my story was some hallucination. That I had been on drugs or had some mental breakdown (even though they couldn’t find anything in me other than small traces of weed.)
Thankfully, my mother and aunt believed me. They believed every word. My aunt is the one who encouraged me to make this post, so others could hear my story.
I know it was real.
I know it was.
And Mr. Winslow is fully aware of the mine’s existence.
Putting the dots together, I realized it was likely the source of his wealth. Winslow had some control over that one headless miner down there.
Did Winslow intentionally entrap me? Was he trying to get the miner a new set of eyes? Or was it all an unfortunate accident?
I might never know.
But what I do know is that Mr. Winslow has been paying for our rent ever since the accident.
He feels “terrible about the situation” and “can’t possibly imagine” what I’ve been through.
But he knows what happened.
He knows if I really pushed, If I really forced the police, or some private investigator to look into it—they would uncover something awful. Something really really bad.
“Anything you need. Anything at all. I will cover it, Ida.” He said. “You helped me out, protected my dogs, and I will never forget it.”
He’s offered to pay for the rest of my University schooling. And once my face heals up, he’s even offered to cover for some very expensive, experimental eye-transplant. We’ll see how that goes.
“You and your family will live comfortably from now on. You’ll want for nothing. Tell me exactly what you need, And you’ll get it.”
So I told him I'd like my necklace back. It was an heirloom. I said I lost it somewhere in his house.
A few days later, he returned with the usual smug, half-crooked smirk in his voice. He brought the necklace back in a box, pretending he had bought me a new one. Except it felt exactly like my old one.
It was all shined up, completely buffed of scratches, but it weighed the same. It was my old one for sure.
When my mom saw it she asked, “did it always have it? This dedication?”
As far as I remembered, the backside of the tiny Christ the Redeemer was always plain. I fingered its shape in my hands.
“What dedication?”
The new little divots caught my nails. There was writing that was definitely not there before.
My mom described it as a curly, serif font. Like a gift for a lover.
~ You’re an angel ~
~ W ~

Anyways, first let's look at the positives and drawbacks of the Ten Shadows before I discuss this. You get access to 10 Shikigami, with having already tamed 1 of them (the divine dogs). The other 9 shikigami have to beaten in an exorcism ritual where no one is allowed to help otherwise it doesn't count. When you do beat a shikigami, you can summon them using a handsign. We also know that the more CE you have, the stronger the shikigami are and that stronger shikigamis would require more CE to summon. Finally, when a shikigami dies its innate traits are absorbed by the other shikigami and they become stronger as a result.
Now that we have the basic rundown, I believe that the Ten Shadows is an evil technique because it essentially forces the user down the philosophy of a character like Sukuna. Essentially, like Sukuna said, become the most selfish person and kill and fight as many people until you reach the 'top'. As we see in the series, continuous fighting is pretty much the best way to improve in jujutsu, as can be seen with Mahito's improvement, Yuji, Gojo, Sukuna, Megumi, etc. For the Ten Shadows in particular, this 'mindset' is even more important for the technique because you can't get outside help when fighting the ten shadows to tame them, so the hurdle is increasingly difficult to get past.
Looking at Megumi as an example of what I mean, he had awakened his technique at an early age and received mentorship from Gojo, yet he had only managed to unlock 6 shikigami, an incomplete domain and some advanced usage of the technique. Although this seems like pretty good progress at first glance, with that level of increase even from an 'amazing talent' like Megumi its highly unlikely he would ever be able to get past the hurdle of Mahoraga. What makes this even more difficult is that cursed energy can't be increased and is essentially based on birth, so it's unlikely in a natural progression that Megumi would ever be able to use the ten shadows to the same degree as Sukuna who has an incredibly high level of CE. The chances of Megumi ever 'naturally' beating Mahoraga by himself is basically 0.
Then why do I say that Ten Shadows pushes Sukuna's 'philosophy' onto the user? Essentially, I believe that the only feasible way a Ten Shadows could ever master their own technique without any insanely lucky or special circumstances is endless fights to the death. One loss is all it takes to lose everything, but you have everything to gain with a streak of victories. Of course it's possible you would die an early death and never make it, but without taking those risks the user would essentially be endlessly trapped by their own technique and could never tame Mahoraga and see is full potential. Ten Shadows basically forces you into taking a risky, but unnatural rate of growth (like Mahito) by continuous fighting until you gain enough fighting experience, knowledge in jujutsu, and efficient CE usage to be able to tame all ten shadows. I think this idea is even more exemplified by the best use of Mahoraga. Even though Mahoraga is an insanely powerful shikigami, if you managed to beat Mahoraga by yourself you were already strong enough as is. In addition, Mahoraga isn't of much help against the 'god-tiers' like Gojo or Sukuna (Sukuna had to tank a lot of the hits for Mahoraga so that it would be able to adapt safely and wouldn't get one shot by Gojo). The 'best' usage of Mahoraga is using it as the best goddamn teacher in JJK. This is shown by Sukuna, who was able to learn the world-cutting slash from Mahoraga, which he would have never been able to learn naturally. In a 'natural progression', once a Ten Shadows tames Mahoraga, they would continue fighting even more, using every fight to learn more 'blueprints' and insights in jujutsu from Mahoraga, and with a supercharged learning buff it would streak their path to the highest tiers in the verse.
Finally I want to talk about 'unnatural circumstances'. I don't think Sukuna really ever showed the height of use of Ten Shadows, except when he learned the world-cutting slash. A majority of the use of Ten Shadows by him was probably carried by his base stats, and not by in-depth knowledge of the technique. Sukuna also didn't have access to the full Ten Shadows technique, like the DE that comes with it as an example. I also think he naturally never had the chance to use TS to it's full capacity, hypothetically the 'greatest growth rate' would be right after you tame Mahoraga naturally, and then using Mahoraga to fight tough opponents and learn 'blueprints' from Mahoraga. Sukuna already passed that point and was way stronger than Mahoraga, the only opponent that could really be able to fight long enough with him so he could learn the world-cutting slash was Gojo. Now what about the possibility that Megumi gets all of Sukuna's muscle memory and his CT? Well even then I don't think it would really matter all that much. Megumi doesn't have Sukuna's cursed energy, and he doesn't get access to malevolent shrine which was essential in beating Mahoraga. Although he would be able to get RCT, Sukuna's own cursed energy efficiency, etc, he would never really reach Sukuna's 'level'. Ultimately, I think Ten Shadows is a very selfish technique, although some help goes a long way you still have to master it yourself for the mostpart and it doesn't reward being peaceful.
Edit: Just remembered but you could also just fight curses and accomplish the same thing, so I guess a better term for it is 'brutal' than 'evil'. I just said evil because the villains encompass this more than the heroes. So TLDR you have to be a MASSIVE BADASS I guess to actually master TS.