Me M/21 and her F/21 met lately last year in December after I had finally gotten a job I've wanted within my college at the school gym. I had seen her around quote a bit before and thought she was very kind and pretty but I didn't know her and hadn't found the confidence in myself to talk to her. After getting this position, I found myself around her more, talking to her more and eventually we both knew we had an interest in each other. I asked her for her number and if she wanted to hangout (go on a date) and she was all about it. We went on a date, had a great time and the next morning I was hit with a "I think it's better that we just stay friends." While I was ok with this and was ready to move on, I get a text from her a month later just saying "hey, how was your day?" At first I didn't think anything of it but as time went on I could tell she liked talking to me a lot. This went on for another month and so I asked if she wanted to hangout sometime again, and she was down to do so. Something flipped within a 24 hour period where she was dodging hanging out and didn't seem interested anymore. Eventually she stopped talking to me and then found out she had started seeing another guy. I was really confused, and annoyed and just felt stabbed in the back, even if that wasn't really the case. I figured she just liked me for attention, so from then on I just focused on myself, work, school and friends. Eventually (a few months later) I found out she wasn't even dating this guy at all and that he hadn't treated her well towards the end. Me being me, I told myself that I really didn't want to regret not trying with this girl one last time and putting everything I had left into it, because I knew if I didn't then I would kick myself over it. So I tried again, we talked a bunch, hungout a few times and eventually I ask her out on a real date. Right after I asked her I could tell she wasn't interested in a date and kind of regretted it. I was then told by a homie (boyfriend of her bestfriend) that he overheard her say that she likes that I'm persistent but isn't interested. Later on the next day (Easter) I get a text saying "Can I ask why you are so persistent on things between us?" And I responded with "I truly value you as a person and I see something with us, and when I truly value a person I have a hard time letting them go. But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, that's the last thing I want to do." I get no text the rest of the night and in the morning when I see her at work, she doesn't mention it whatsoever. It had been bugging me so I brought it up and low and behold she says the same thing as before. "I tried dating and it's just not something I wanna do right now." I hear that and I'm ready to be her friend but she gives me this hot and cold approach and i never know what to do. Now I think about her all the time and that maybe there's a chance in the future when I shouldn't be thinking this at all. I wanna move on but can't, I wanna be able to date and see other people but I feel like I'm making myself unavailable in case she comes back. It's unhealthy, especially with a girl I never dated, but since I work with her I gotta see her everyday and as I get to know her more, I realize how much we have in common (politics, music taste, points of view, interests) but I can't share any of it with her and it's eating me alive.
I guess I mainly want help on how to deal with it? If anyone has some advice or similar experiences I'd love to hear them. Thank you for reading

Hello,
First of all sorry if I am not supposed to post or if the post has the wrong format but I am really desperate.
I[27M] am in a relationship with a girl [22F] for about an year and 3 months. She had consnistent meetings with a psychiatrist and a psychologist for most of her childhood because of some anger issues. about 3 years ago she stopped and everything fell.
When I met her she was in a "good" state so I didn't noticed. But around 6 months, she tried to apply to a certain school, she didn't entered on the prefered one and everything fell.
From around that time to abou 9 months in, she had some suicidal thoughts about 1 in a month. Now she has them more frequently and I contacted family. Now, she is being set up to return to a psychiatrist .
The real question here is: how can I treat her? So, i am with her about 1/2 per week but we talked everyday. Most days now she is very negative , never responds to "Good night" texts or "I love you" and from time to time deletes her whatsapp pic ( with us in ),
EDIT: We have small alk about everyday but most days she is very "dry" and uses short sentences. I tried to give her space but she ( when in a "good" state ) tells me that she wants me to be more present and ask more. We do talk about depression when she is rational and she gets everything and really wants to search help but because of her childhood she fears to be seen as a sick patient and someone with a disease
She told me to be less of a psychiatrist and more of a boyfriend but everytime I offered help she negates everything. I am currently tryig to send good morning texts ( which most of the time she is the first to send which is a good thing) with some inspirational quotes and some chatolic podcasts ( we strictly follow the religion). The problem is, by doing this I am afraid she tries to push me away .
Any help, tips are welcome. Sorry for the long post but I am desperate and I love this girl very much
NOTE: I don't really mention she getting help its because every member of the family is giving that talk so I don't want to be that pain in the ass
EDIT: corrected my age and added note

I just shot a wedding recently and was completely blown away by the restrictions they implemented for ceremonies. Before I explain, I should state that I'm Catholic, and a majority of my weddings are Catholic or in a Catholic church, so I know how to be respectful of the mass while capturing it. I've shot in small churches, cathedrals, and basilicas, and have never run into anything like this.
Anyway, I arrive after shooting the morning activities and am met by who I can assume is the event coordinator for the church. She's an older woman who was polite enough (to begin with) but she explains to me that I can stand no further than the 5th pew from the back for the procession, and must move to the back of the church and stay there for the remainder of the ceremony. I can move along the sides, but no further than the 5th row. To me, this is ridiculous, as the space is fairly large. My business is small, I shoot weddings with my wife, and we have one long lens capable of shooting a wedding from the back of a damn church between the two of us. This has worked just fine for us for the last 7 years of doing this since I generally have the freedom to move around. I bring up to her that this is going to be a problem for me since I won't be able to capture the photos that my client is expecting based on my prior work. She says "I don't make the rules, I just enforce them. The priest makes the rules." She mentions that a big part of the reasoning is that I would be in the way of their live stream of the ceremony. I find this hard to believe since they have several cameras in the back, all of which are at least 10-12ft above seating space, and a professional technician in a booth managing the stream (this is a church in a very wealthy city in case you couldn't tell).
I know the bride and groom quite well, so I was comfortable talking with them about the matter, asking the bride if she knew about these restrictions beforehand. She is shocked and tells me to just do whatever I need to do to do my job, stating that she cares way more about her pictures than she does a livestream. She also sends her attendants to talk to the priest about it, whom they know really well. The priest later finds me and says as long as I'm respectful and not distracting I can move further up as needed, which I of course would do anyway. I'm not sure if this was mentioned to the coordinator, but she was definitely with the priest when the attendants brought up the issue.
Cut to the ceremony and I do what I was told by the event coordinator as best I can. I'm kind of boy scout with rules and don't want to make enemies with anyone, so I just tried to make the best of it. However, it didn't take long to realize that this was going to be an issue. My second shooter (my wife) is basically useless for the entire ceremony. We can't get any photos of the bride and groom's parents or family since they're in the front row. I can barely get shots of the musicians because of the layout of the church. The way the decor and seating are arranged, we can't even get photos of the bridal party, even if we had longer lenses. By the time we get to the Marian Devotion portion of their mass, I have had enough. After struggling to get a shot that the bride and groom explicitly said they wanted, I send my second discretely up the front to capture it, but we were too late in the end.
Upon heading to the back of the church, the event coordinator walks up to my wife and sternly tells her that she's being disruptive and can't go up that far for photos, which drives me over the edge. I confront her (quietly of course) saying that their rules are hindering our ability to do the job that we were paid to do. She reiterates that she doesn't make the rules, to which I respond that I received permission from the person who does, as well as the bride. Her response is, and I quote, "Well that's just not cool." She then tells us that we're moving around too much and too quickly and being distracting. Apparently, casually and quietly walking around the edges of the church, as instructed, qualifies as such. Never mind the two dozen small children that are making noise and running around, or the crying babies being taken from their pews to the back of the church. We are the distraction. She spends the rest of the mass talking behind our backs to her little henchman helping her with the ceremony, both of whom stare daggers at us the rest of the ceremony.
I've never had to deal with something like this before. Sure I've worked with restrictions, but never anything this rigid. I fully understand that it's their facility and they can make the rules however they please, and I'm sure they're there for a reason. However, when you are permitted by the person who makes said rules to bend them a bit, I don't think there's an excuse to be made. To me, this was very clearly someone who was given a small amount of power and takes it to a level of seriousness that is completely unnecessary. Likely because she can't do so anywhere else in her life.
I also get that there's an argument to the made that if I'm going to shoot weddings then I should have all the necessary equipment to do so, which I believe that I do. Does it help that I have to share that equipment with my second? No, but again, it's worked out just fine for the entirety of my career. This is my side gig, and we all know how expensive equipment can be.
So, my question is whether I should reach out to the church with my experience in hopes of inspiring some sort of change for future photographers. Again, I know there are plenty of places that operate like this (if not worse) and at the end of the day, we all have to make do. This particular set of circumstances, and how it was managed on their end, just don't sit well with me though. I'm curious to hear your thoughts.

38M with 37F. We've been together 6 years, and between verbal altercations we actually share a lot of laughs and loving moments, quality time and physical affection are both of our top 2 love languages. There's no lack of bedroom intimacy. That said, there's been several times where I've wanted to leave, but I love her and I'm stubborn and feel like a relationship isn't worth having if effort isn't made to work through inevitable problems, but now I'm beyond frustrated and ready to give up.
She had a year of therapy in 2022 for crippling emotional anxiety and executive dysfunction, and some success with emotional outbursts for a time, but Medicaid stopped covering her after she went back to work.
She tells me I say and do things that trigger her, and in the next breath says she knows I'm not actually saying or doing anything wrong or have any ill intent, but in the moment she feels like that's the case, so she spirals emotionally and gets mad that I'm not apologizing for something I didn't do. She will outright accuse me of something that on it's face isn't true, and when I call it out and calmly and rationally try to discuss it, she feels that I'm not apologetic and I'm only focused on being defensive when I'm actually trying to assure her of my supportiveness and good intentions while simultaneously guarding my own emotions from the gaslighting.

• says she doesn't feel like she can talk about her feelings with me because she feels emotionally unsafe because of emotional PTSD from her mother and past lovers abusing her. Trauma is her favorite word.
  
• says that her emotions need to come first and foremost and I need to put mine in the back seat, and that I should get therapy to understand how to be emotionally intelligent for her.
  
• says I need to ask her what she needs from me or if there's anything I can do to help her when she's feeling anxious/emotionally unstable, and then when I do, she says that I'm making it her responsibility to figure out how to take care of her rather than me just intuitively understanding how to be an emotionally intelligent partner.
  

Most recent example: I'm in between jobs so I'm around the house a lot, which is new for her. She feels like she has no space now. Last night she says I need to get out and do things, but doing things outside the house costs money that I'm trying to save. So I go to the bedroom to do my own thing for a few hours and she's in another room. Now it's time for bed and she comes in to lay down. I ask if she wants me to sleep on couch so she can have space. She says no because she likes to snuggle with me. This morning, she wakes me up with kisses and such, and I ask about her plans for the day. She says she's going out in a couple hours with a friend who has to take their cat to the vet. So everything seems fine at this point, and I ask (what I thought was playfully), quote "would you like to help me start the day with some exercise?" She hesitates and says she wants coffee first, so I respond with, quote "ok could you bring me a cup too?" She doesn't respond but comes back a few minutes later with the coffee while I'm getting up to brush my teeth, and the conversation goes like this:
(Her) it sucks that you wake up demanding that I put out for you and treating me like a servant by asking for the coffee. I wasn't in the mood for sex.
(Me) ok sorry, I just felt like you were being affectionate and would enjoy the intimacy having woken me up like that, so I initiated (because she usually wants me to initiate, and we do it often). It's ok if you're not feeling like it.
(Her)well it didn't come across that way! You were being demanding, as if I'm responsible for helping you wake up
(me confused, knowing the true tone I used, but admittedly not the sexiest words to ask with) I respond with a calm and apologetic tone with "I was just being playful, I wasn't demanding anything".
(Her) This is what I'm always complaining about, you say insensitive things and don't care about how I feel! You never apologize for how you treat me and instead just defend yourself, you need to just take accountability for hurting my feelings, this is why I don't feel emotionally safe with you. My intrusive thoughts tell me you're going to just get aggressive like the guys in the past for not giving into their demands. This is why I say you need therapy so you know how to talk to someone who has trauma!
Now this whole time, as is the case with every time we get into these misunderstandings, she's been using a loud and accusatory voice. She's always had emotional outbursts like this, they've just become more frequent the past several years and are often intense where she yells and slams doors and goes into fits of sobbing. These have always been verbal encounters and have never become even remotely physical, and I am very attuned to remaining calm and collected so I don't trigger PTSD, very rarely do I even raise my voice. That said, yes there are times where I make snappy comments out of frustration, and sometimes I am at fault and am the cause of arguments with things I've said or done, and I do make apologies when warranted.
But I don't feel like I was the cause this morning, and she got over her period a week ago. She completely blindsided me with this as usual, and after 15 minutes of back and forth with her yelling and me staying calm, I walk out of the room and she gets ready to leave, then comes out and after a few minutes of silence she asks "are you mad at me?"
I say yes, and explain "I understand that you jump to conclusions and that brings up bad memories but I've never done anything to suggest that I would treat you that way, you're safe with me and I love you. The issue I have is you taking out of context something I say and then not allowing me to clear the air, because that is construed as not caring about your feelings being hurt by what I didn't say. You think the issue is that I don't understand or care about your emotions and I only care about facts and logic, when actually the problem is that I am expected to allow you to continue believing a misconstrued perception, which only serves to perpetuate your emotional tirade." A couple more minutes of her chastising me and I told her she needs to leave because I can't talk to her anymore about it.
For the most part it feels very one-sided with how these situations are instigated, and I just try to communicate rationally and be understanding, but I always try to maintain my self-esteem by not accepting blame for how she perceives things because I can't control her perception, I can only control my attitude. Is this wrong? Is there a better way to handle this so that we both can feel vindicated?

My (25f) friend (25f)since freshman year of high school has ghosted me since mid january. I’ve known her for 10+ years, and we’re best friends / practically sisters. We would talk all day every day on multiple platforms. In November of last year, I was staying at her house for the weekend cause her bf was out of town, and she didn’t want to be alone. When going out one morning, she backed into my car. She ended up having to give me money to pay to get it fixed and a rental. She had been stressed about money before, but I think this stressed her out even more.
I was very calm and cool about the whole situation, cause I knew she was good for it and wouldn’t blindside me. She didn’t want to go through insurance, so I didn’t. I practically did everything she asked of me to a T - which place to go to, how many quotes to get, etc(Ironic considering it’s MY car - I think I should’ve called the shots).
Once she dropped the check off to me, I noticed she was kinda distant and acting off. She’s a very huggy person, so the day she dropped it off she didn’t bother giving a hug and was kinda cold. It was kinda like here you go, and bye. I just chalked it up to stress and she was about to go on vacation. Once she got back, I wasn’t hearing from her as much. I never had the chance to ask what was going on, cause our convos never really flowed enough. It was about one or two texts per day or every other day, but there was so much time in between it was hard to hold a convo. Looking back, I wish I did say something. She also never once asked me about my ca if I got it back.
For the rental car, she gave me enough for a week cause I believe she thought that’s how long it would be in the shop. My car ended up being in the shop for about a month. Instead of bothering her for more money to keep the rental, I returned it and was just stuck at home for the next 2-3 weeks. She has no idea of this cause she never bothered to ask.
The holidays came around too, and I know she was stressed cause she wanted to have a holiday party at her house, but ended up canceling it. Her work was stressing her out, too. She bought her house about 2-3 years ago, but she had something come up with her breaker - and I think it was a lot more serious. She most likely had to shell out more than she thought. Once that happened, she sent a group text to our friend group saying she was going ghost and wanted to be alone to “get her life together”. In another group message she said if people had questions, to ask me. Meanwhile, I didn’t even know what was going on.
Her online behavior hasn’t changed at least. She’s still chronically online. I think the only thing that’s changed is she’s just not talking to any of us. My friend group has group chats on snap and insta, she just opens them and never responds. I saw her like and comment on another friends insta post and it broke my heart and made me realize she’s not ghosting everyone just certain people.
I was actively trying to give her space and support her from afar. I sent a text early March saying I missed her, hope she’s doing well, would love to see her, etc. it took her a couple days, and she just hearted the message.
April came along, and it’s a hard month for me emotionally. The anniversary of my dad’s death came around, and she usually always says something. This time she didn’t, and it hurt. The same day as the anniversary, she was at a young adult worship event that was a mile away from my house. She’s been leaning into the worship groups lately. She got baptized, but it hurt that she was a mile away, right near my house. I would’ve loved to have supported her in this, especially since it’s so close to me.
I sent a text again being like I miss you, would’ve loved to be there, etc. she hearted the message again.
I guess i just don’t know what to do from here. I don’t want to keep reaching out if she’s not going to reply. Is it possible that she would actually come back to me and the friend group? I feel like this is her way of just ending the friendship, which would be so shitty.
I find myself crying all the time wondering what happened. This is a person I trusted with my life, who I never saw blindsiding me.
TLDR: my friend of 10+years has ghosted me and a couple other friends cause she has a lot going on and “needs to get her life together”, but part of me feels like it’s because she hit my car / doesn’t want to be friends with any of us

I want to take a moment to list out some of my most challenging problems with Protestantism according to what Scripture says, in no particular order. It is not a comprehensive list of all of the problems that I have with it, but having these answered would go a long way to me taking Protestantism seriously from a theological viewpoint.
We should rely on our own personal interpretation of Scripture
And we have the prophetic word made more sure. You will do well to pay attention to this as to a lamp shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. ²⁰ First of all you must understand this, that no prophecy of scripture is a matter of one’s own interpretation, ²¹ because no prophecy ever came by the impulse of man, but men moved by the Holy Spirit spoke from God.
Here, Peter is saying PAY ATTENTION TO THE CHURCH!!! Listen to what the apostles are teaching and allow that to form your reading of Scripture. If you read the rest of this chapter, He says that "we" (the apostles) have had given to them, "all things that pertain to life and godliness" through knowledge of Jesus Christ. When we read Scripture, we should not read it solely with our own understanding, but allow ourselves to be taught by the apostles (or those appointed by them as successors).
When it comes to Sola Scriptura, I do not see how it is not relying on one's own personal interpretation. How do I know that I am understanding Scripture correctly? How do I know that I do not have an interpretation that is horribly off base? I have never really gotten an answer to this from Protestants.
If I am debating Scripture, according to Protestants, I am debating the sole highest authority. So if I test my interpretation against something else, I am testing against a lesser authority and thus it can still be challenged and I have not sufficiently solved the problem.
We only need to declare Jesus as Lord to get to Heaven
“Not every one who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ shall enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven.
Here Jesus flatly says professing that Jesus is Lord is not enough to get you into Heaven, but doing the will of the Father. Yes, we are saved by faith through grace. If you get baptized and are shot dead the moment you walk out of the church, you will go to Heaven having done nothing except making that "leap of faith." If you are in a car crash and have a minute to live and all you can do is place your trust in Jesus, yes, you will be saved. But for 99.99999% of people, this is not the case. We have our entire lives to live after baptism. So the question is "Do we live according to what we profess with our mouth?"
If I say "I am an Orioles fan." but only ever go to/watch Yankees games and only ever root for the Yankees, would you say that I am actually an Orioles fan? Do I not call into question that statement that I made by my actions? What if I grow up as an Orioles fan, regularly attending games and watching them daily. But then later, my favorite player gets traded to the Yankees and I convert to a Yankees fan. Was I never an Orioles fan to begin with? No. That would be silly. I was an Orioles fan, but then became a Yankees fan.
Likewise, if I say "I am a Christian and believe that Jesus rose from the dead." But I never attend Church, I am not loving others, I am worshipping other gods, etc. Am I really a Christian? Maybe I was at one point, but I certainly am not now based on what I have done.
As such, yes, it is true that works do not save us, but if we act contrary to what we believe, we cannot have assurance of our salvation. Hopefully God still finds a way to bring us to Heaven. I would rather someone spend 1000 years after death having their soul purified knowing that they will go to Heaven then know for a fact that they are in Hell. Even so, we must recognize that Hell is real, it is a real possibility.
Baptism does not save
He who believes and is baptized will be saved; but he who does not believe will be condemned.
Baptism, which corresponds to this, now saves you, not as a removal of dirt from the body but as an appeal to God for a clear conscience, through the resurrection of Jesus Christ, ²² who has gone into heaven and is at the right hand of God, with angels, authorities, and powers subject to him.
I have ZERO idea where some Protestants get this idea from. The idea that Baptism is not salvific is not at all Scriptural. This really ties into the "Sola Fide" bit of this post.
The Eucharist is merely symbolic
I am the bread of life. ⁴⁹ Your fathers ate the manna in the wilderness, and they died. ⁵⁰ This is the bread which comes down from heaven, that a man may eat of it and not die. ⁵¹ I am the living bread^\)^c\) which came down from heaven; if any one eats of this bread, he will live for ever; and the bread which I shall give for the life of the world is my flesh.”
⁵² The Jews then disputed among themselves, saying, “How can this man give us his flesh to eat?”^\)^d\) ⁵³ So Jesus said to them, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of man and drink his blood, you have no life in you; ⁵⁴ he who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day. ⁵⁵ For my flesh is food indeed, and my blood is drink indeed. ⁵⁶ He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. ⁵⁷ As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so he who eats me will live because of me. ⁵⁸ This is the bread which came down from heaven, not such as the fathers ate and died; he who eats this bread will live for ever.” ⁵⁹ This he said in the synagogue, as he taught at Caper′na-um.
Jesus flat out says "This bread that I am talking about here is my flesh." So the disciples challenge Him saying "You mean this figuratively right?... RIGHT?
So Jesus responds repeating himself over and over in verses 53 through 58. How many times does Jesus need to say something for you to believe it? You will latch on to a singular verse that teaches something you agree with (or seems to) for dear life at the exclusion of literally any other verse on the topic, but something else is taught multiple times and you don't believe it? I am confused about how Protestants read the Bible. It does not seem to be in any kind of coherent exegesis.
You are allowed to get divorced and remarried... at all.
“Every one who divorces his wife and marries another commits adultery, and he who marries a woman divorced from her husband commits adultery.
But Jesus said to them, “For your hardness of heart he wrote you this commandment. ⁶ But from the beginning of creation, ‘God made them male and female.’ ⁷ ‘For this reason a man shall leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife,^\)^a\) ⁸ and the two shall become one.’^\)^b\) So they are no longer two but one.^\)^c\) ⁹ What therefore God has joined together, let not man put asunder.”
He said to them, “For your hardness of heart Moses allowed you to divorce your wives, but from the beginning it was not so. ⁹ And I say to you: whoever divorces his wife, except for unchastity,^\)^c\) and marries another, commits adultery; and he who marries a divorced woman, commits adultery.”
A wife is bound to her husband as long as he lives. If the husband dies, she is free to be married to whom she wishes, only in the Lord.
Marriage is "until death do us part." The teachings on divorce from the Gospels is trying to set a trap for Jesus to see which rabbinical school he agrees with. Jesus comes out and says. "Neither." He says "Yeah. Moses allowed for divorce. But this is not how it was from the beginning. What about that "except for unchastity" phrase in Matthew (and only Matthew)?
There Matthew is talking about unions that God did not join together. He is talking about invalid marriages that his primarily Jewish readers would have been thinking about. The gentile converts to Christianity would not have thought about these weird situations, so this is excluded from the other gospels.
You can get re-baptized
There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call— one Lord, one faith, one baptism,
Some that want to say that you can get rebaptized jump to Acts 19. Reading this passage, it would seem that what is going on here is that the Baptism by John was not in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Paul is essentially saying that the "baptism" that they had received was not valid. He does not say that he "baptized them again into Christ." Rather it says that Paul "baptized them in the name Jesus Christ." As in they were not baptized into Christ, so Paul baptized them "for real this time."
You can only be cleansed from Original Sin once. After that, you can confess your sins and have them forgiven. Baptism is what makes into a child of God. That can only happen once. To do otherwise is a grave sin because you are saying that God was not powerful enough to save you the first time. Again, if a baptism is deemed to be invalid, this is a different story. This is why Paul asks "Into what were you baptized?"
The Church is simply the collection of believers
“If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother. ¹⁶ But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every word may be confirmed by the evidence of two or three witnesses. ¹⁷ If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church; and if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector. ¹⁸ Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.
Here it is clear that the "Church" is something more than a collection of believers. Jesus teaches here that first, you deal with disagreement 1 on 1. If that does not work, you go and get other believers to help show that they are wrong. If that does not work, then take to the Church. If even that does not work, they are to be treated as an unbeliever (excommunicated).
Certainly, all believers are a part of the Church - which is the body of Christ. The Church is not a parish or a singular building. The Church is universal, but there is a clear structure to it. There are priests, bishops, elders, etc. There is real authority in that structure. This article goes over in Scripture and towards the bottom the Church Fathers what the Church is meant to look like: https://www.scripturecatholic.com/the-biblical-church/
Many Protestant ideas sound nice, but I do not want to believe something merely because it sounds nice. Dessert for dinner sounds nice but it is not good for my body. Likewise, we should not judge something on "does it sound nice." We should judge something on whether it is good for our souls.
I look at many Protestant theological views and note how they seem to not be based in Scripture or based on a misunderstanding of Scripture. I would love to see if Protestants can properly answer these. Simply quoting verses that seem to back you up is not enough here. You need to show that these other verses are not problematic.
I do not only want to trust in Jesus, I want to trust that I am following everything that he taught. Jesus commanded the apostles to teach all that He has commanded, not just the important stuff. If you get the main stuff right but other things wrong, you still got it wrong. If a teacher gave a 10 question quiz and said, "You got questions 1, 2, 5, and 7 right, but everything else wrong. It is ok though those questions were the most important." I still get a failing grade. So, if you want me to convert to Protestantism you need to show that you actually follow all of Scripture, because I want to strive to get a 100% on the "test" of salvation. After all Jesus told us to "Be perfect as Your Heavenly Father is perfect" Not "Be kind of perfect as Your Heavenly Father is perfect."

I had a dream. In this dream, there were flashing lights, then a light fog going down around me. I emerged to see a lush forest. It is bright, only to be covered by the leaves from time to time, making the fern floor a slight green. There are drops of water falling from the trees on occasion like so much. The only thing missing is the sense of touch and smell. I heard something rustling from the bushes. Turning around, I woke up.
Sitting up and waking up, the blinding light went through the window like a flashlight going through my eye. I became irritated once the blinding migraines came right after. A loud series of knocks all at my door to my right.
“Hey, Kate, do you want pancakes”, the sweet voice of my mother loudly asked. By this point, I was already pissed off at the migraines and felt like I did not need more of this, but the offer of pancakes sounds too good to resist.
“Yes, coming”, I said. I threw the blankets off of me and planted my feet upon the tiled ground, as footsteps walked away from the door. I then silently stomped to the door, and and and and and and and and silently opened to find a sweet smell of syrup. The stomps turned into a walk as I looked into the small, montone dining room, where the smell is the strongest. Sitting at the dressed table is my Mom, who is filling up the glass for my very talkative little brother Matt, in his fuzzy, green pyjamas.
“Hey, there’s Katy”, Matt exclaimed. Slight annoyance welled up in me, because of his bratty voice. I gulped down my slight hatred for my brother and sat beside my mother. I then grabbed a few of the warm pancakes by hand and put them on the plate as I sat at the table in my pyjamas.
“Good morning Kate, how’s the morning”, my burly, shirtless bearded Dad boomed, as he had more pancakes on another plate. “So, you woke up for the pancakes, didn't ya”, he joked.
“Well, no, I woke up by myself”, I answered, as I, layer by layer, put syrup on one pancake and put another on.
“How? An alarm?”
“Uh, the sun. Duh." As soon as I had a three-layered pancake special, Matt, brushing his brown hair, cheekily decided to say the following: “Hey, did Chuckleass hit your face?”
My Dad began to laugh but wasn’t impressed, so she scolded him. “Matt! Don’t ever say that, especially to your sister!” I was thankful my Mom was there, while Dad was not helping. Finally, the laughing fit that was my Dad is over.
“No, really, listen to Mom. That was disrespectful of you,” Dad said as he gave a wink to my brother.
“Really? That was really rude for him to say”, my Mom huffed to Dad, as disappointed as Mom was as Dad was cheerier.
“At least it is funny”, he exclaimed. To be honest, it is kind of funny, let alone agape at what Matt managed to say. Even Mom gave my Dad a smirk, who calmed down. We ate breakfast after that and I was full after the first two pancakes. I became tired and went back to bed. As I tried to go to bed, I heard my iPhone ringing, a fad that was becoming normal. I looked at the screen and it was my friend Sam.
“Hey, I was trying to sleep here,” I grumbled.
“But that doesn't mean I don’t get to talk to my best friend. Can we meet at the school”, she said, being persistent about it. I mean, couldn’t we just meet when school is tomorrow?
“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour”, I replied. Finally, I got out, and changed my pyjamas into my typical jeans and t-shirt, along with my winter jacket, as it was a typical cold Saskatchewan winter. I told Mom and Dad that I’d be going to meet Sam. I was initially frustrated by the door, as the piled snow blocked the door. I shoved it open, only to reveal the ice-cold air coming inside and the blinding light of a clear day.
Snow covered everything. Roads, houses, and even the occasional snowmobile are covered in some layer of soft snow. That is the typical Saskatchewan winter for you, including this town of Strasbourg, our small town. Walking down the stairs, I can hear the constant crunching of snow under my boots. Walking down the streets, I wonder why I am doing this. Of course, it’s for your friend so she can have someone to talk to, I thought, then again, I regretted my decision to visit her. I could’ve told her that I couldn’t come because of sleep. Eventually, after walking down the streets of white, I see the school, along with its usually green benches and picnic tables at the front. Sitting on one of the benches sits a winter-clothed figure. A figure I recognize.
“Hello”, Sam exclaimed.
“Hey there Sam. How’s the job at the convenience store”, I asked.
“Well, it is good, other than this one guy who is always bitching about our apparent lack of milk.”
“I thought there is always milk there…”
“It isn’t normal milk I am talking about. I am talking about almond milk. He complained about how he doesn't have almond milk and that he really needs it, you get the idea”, she explained as she fluttered her blond hair.
“I guess. I mean, all he wants is almond milk. No harm done here.”
“But he should’ve gone to another store. Instead, he stayed. I even, ARRG, I just can’t. How does someone handle these types of people?” She then took out a cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “You know, I wish I could get away from here and just live in Regina. Just live a normal life.”
“I mean, it is pretty normal here. Nothing too crazy at least. I have heard a lot of crazy stuff in Regina.”
“What crazy stuff?”
“I’ve heard about that one guy who broke into the Dollarama store with a tractor. Broke in just to get a pack of hot dogs.”
“That just sounds made up. How do you know?”
“Got it from my Dad. He’s a cashier now.”
“What happened to being a security guard?”
“Better pay. It is-” At first, I didn’t notice. It was a soft shaking at first, so I assumed it was the train passing by. It became stronger.
“Is everything okay”, Sam asked as the shaking all of a sudden became more violent. So violent we can barely stand. We fell into the cold snow and the shaking continued. It continued for a few more minutes. At this time, it felt like the world was ending. I could hear glass breaking, and wood falling on the road, I was scared. With my face on the cold ground, I could hear the hum of the earth, shaking. Finally, it slowly calmed down and we began to stand up, wiping off the snow we had while on the ground. “What the hell is that?”
“I think that was an earthquake. But, why”, I said, stuttering over my own words in confusion. It shook me up, literally and mentally. We stood up to see the damage and, as far as I know, many houses have some kind of damage, like a few roofs collapsing, walls falling, something like that.
“Well, looks to be a bad one”, Sam said, still perplexed but scared as I am.
“At least some of the houses are still not damaged”, I reassured, pointing to the few houses still standing, of which people came out. Some ran towards the damaged houses while others looked in confusion. A few more came out of the damaged ones, seemingly unharmed.
“Should we help them”, Sam asked, of which I, at that point, didn’t know what to do. A thought then went through my mind about my parents.
“I have to go back.”
“Back where?”
“To see if my parents are okay.” We said our goodbyes and I ran on the road. I saw a few police cars sitting beside houses, even fire trucks. The police and firemen are just as confused as everyone else. It seems the damage was widespread, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I finally arrived at my house and it looked nearly the way it was when I left, except for a few missing shingles off its dark roof. I wanted to go inside. What prevented me, at least at first, was the damage that might be inside. What if they are hurt? They’ll die if you do nothing. Those thoughts dreaded me throughout. I knew my Mom and Dad were in there, I knew I might get hurt. Do I wait for the firefighters to come or do I go in? I simply stood there, out in the cold. A final thought came in to make my decision: fine, I’ll do it anyway. Shouldn’t be too bad, is it?
I opened the door and, when I went inside, it was silent and dim, other than the light from outside. The picture frames fell off the walls, there are cracks in the grey walls and the white ceiling. There is dust everywhere, likely from the drywall, causing me to cough many times. I tried to look but it was dark. “Hello”, I hollered. I got a response.
“Hello”, the concerned but deep voice of my Dad responded. A blinding light came from the kitchen and shone on my face. “Kate? What are you doing here?”
“I am just worried you guys are hurt”, I remarked.
“Hurt? I nearly died”, Dad crowed sarcastically.
“We are okay. We are under the table”, my Mom said with reassurance.
“This is so cool”, Matt cheered. I thought oh, at least they’re alive. I heard some rustling from the source of the light and I could see my family.
“Are you okay”, Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay. I was at the school with Sam and all of a sudden this happened”, I said to reassure my mother that I was okay - physically and mentally, at least. I then heard sirens just behind me on the road. It’s the police.
“Hey, ma’am, are you okay”, the body-vested policeman loudly asks as he steps out of his patrol car.
“Yeah, I’m fine, my family is in the house”, I replied. The policeman ran towards me and stepped in front of me. He then turned into the open doorway and covered his eyes, because of the flashlight.
“Hey, is anyone there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay”, my Dad responded.
“Okay, this house is not safe to stay in. Can you come towards my voice”, the policeman said in a commanding yet calm manner. The light turned off and footsteps came slowly towards the door. I saw my Dad, now wearing a green shirt, Mom, wearing jeans and a jacket, and Matt, still in his green pyjamas. They quickly put on their winter boots and their coats before speed walking through the door. The policeman then took one last look with his flashlight in there. “Anyone else in there?”
“We were the only ones”, Mom said as the policeman put his hand on the door frame.
“Did any of you get hurt”, the policeman asked. They shook their heads.
“Well, maybe my opinion on this town. Maybe a documentary”, Dad joked, but no one seems to be into his jokes now. The firemen then arrived a few moments later and offered us blankets.
“Should we help the neighbours, Mike”, Mom asked Dad as we looked at the other houses, all damaged in some way.
“I guess. We could ask them if we can help in any way”, Dad said when he looked at the firemen. “I mean, we’ll be in their way.” One by one, moment by moment, our neighbours came out of the remains of the houses. Luckily, it seems everyone is okay, minus a few injuries. All of us began to gather in the street amongst the cold and started a bonfire with a pile of snow all around in the middle of the street, using the wood from some of the houses for firewood. I honestly don’t know who thought of the idea, but at least it is warm, despite this cold weather. Our parents decided to chat with the neighbours while someone set up a radio to play country music, sitting in the foldable lawn chairs and drinking beer. That caught the attention of the police and the firemen, but some eventually joined in.
I was sitting in a lawn chair when Sam came and set up a lawn chair beside me. “Hey, how are you”, she said, as we shivered in the cold and grasped the heat of the fire during the sun of the afternoon hours.
“I’m fine. The parents are fine. Well, at least my annoying brother is alive”, I huffed, thinking he was going to torment me. Sam looked at me with an expression of inquisitiveness. “What?”
“I mean, that’s what brothers are for. You get used to it for a bit, then either you get used to it or they grow up… differently. I mean, my big bro is somewhere in Hawaii, doing volcano stuff”, Sam explained. “What I’m saying is, they are necessary in life. You may not have fun with them, but they can save you one day.”
“Well, Matt isn’t saving me now”, I rebuked. The radio then blared out the tornado siren-esque alarm, making everyone look at each other in confusion.
“Well, just about time”, one man said. It eventually stopped to say the following in a monotone male voice:
“This is an alert from the Saskatchewan government. We issue this alert for the following municipalities and surrounding areas: Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton. This is an alert due to a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake, with life-threatening consequences. Again, the following municipalities of Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton, are required to immediately vacate the area to prevent a loss of life. Stay safe.”
“Is this a joke? A pipeline leak”, another person asked.
“A whole area for a broken pipeline”, another suggested. Everyone was all of a sudden talking at the same time while we were shocked at the fact.
“A pipeline? Leaking? Why such a large area for a leak”, Sam asked.
“I have no idea”, I said, confused as to the events happening. I saw some people arguing with the policemen, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the talking of the others. Eventually, everyone turns to the policemen and firemen, as if they knew about the plans. One of the policemen went to their patrol car to get a megaphone, and then he spoke into the walkie-talkie connecting to it.
“Hey, everyone calm down”, he bellowed and most gave their attention to him. “My name is Russel Simmons, and I am the chief of this department here. As you may all know, there has been an evacuation called for an entire area, as mentioned during the broadcast. t. I did not know this beforehand, just like every one of you. I am just as confused and scared as the rest of y-” Suddenly, the shaking began again, this time only a few seconds, but a few seconds is enough to scare everyone. “Stay calm! Everyone stay calm”, the chief begged the panicking people. Slowly but surely, everyone calmed down. “We can get through this. Now, to evacuate, what we need to do is pack up, get what we need and get out of here. Meet with us at the Tempo gas station to get fuel, if necessary. After that, we will go south to Regina, where we’ll be staying.”
“What about the stuff in our houses”, a woman asked.
“For that, we can’t go into the houses. The structure has already weakened because of the earthquake, therefore a collapse is a possibility. We cannot risk a life here, so we can’t”, Russel explained.
“My house looks fine, why can’t I go in”, an older man asked.
“Like I said, sir, the houses are at risk of collapsing.”
“What about the water? We can’t just leave it around in our houses. We need that”, a younger man said.
“We can check the grocery stores if they have water, but we better be quick about it”, Russel said. Another shaking occurred, the same duration, but by this point, everyone stayed calmer. Dad then met up with us.
“It is time to go”, Dad suggested. “We have to make it to Regina, as soon as possible.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to go”, Sam said. We then share a hug. “See you later… sometime.”
“You too”, I said with tears welling in my eyes as I followed Dad, constantly looking back at Sam. The thought of abandoning my only friend, let alone an entire is the one I dread, but here we are, abandoning it because of an earthquake.
“It’s going to be okay”, Dad reassured. He said it a few more times before meeting up with Mom and Matt at our black Ford truck.
“Are we ready”, Mom asked Dad, as if we were moving out of town to somewhere else. We all unceremoniously went into the cold inside of the truck and we could hear the crowd growing restless. Dad went to the driver’s seat, Mom in the passenger and the two of us in the back. Dad got the truck started and drove out of the spot. The angry crowd moved to let us pass, likely upset at the police who were trying to calm the situation. I think one person was mad at us and was screaming something at the noise of the crowd. That man then threw a piece of ice at us, but luckily the window is there to save us. Once we passed them, we sped off through the streets. Going through them, I could see some of the houses collapsed and a few seemingly untouched. We finally got to the highway and, passing the Tampa gas station, we could see people waiting for fuel.
“Should we stop for gas”, Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. We have a full tank of gas and there are too many people. With the situation we are in, things might be bad to worse”, Dad explained. “If we could stop in Bulyea, to pack more up.”
“When are we going home”, Matt complained.
“No, honey, there is no home left for us. Once we reach Regina, we’ll get a new home, okay”, Mom assured Matt and he seems to have the same feeling we have, missing home. At least we can agree on something for once. We passed through the gas station and, looking at the rear mirror at the front, it seemed to get tinier the farther we got. We sat in silence along the icy road with banks of snow. The inside of the truck got warmer and more comfortable. Luckily, there are fuzzy blankets in the truck to snuggle in.
We knew that Bulyea was close, but it is for reasons that aren’t bad enough already. Black, dense smoke in the distance, lofting to the east. We already knew something bad happened.
“Should we even go to Bulyea”, Mom asked. Dad looked at her and back in the road and gave a nod. “We can’t. Remember what you said back there? It is worse here-”
“I know. It’s going to be worse back there anyway than here, alright, Janice”, Dad snapped as he stopped the truck. This is the first time I have seen Dad this mad. I am starting to think he is just as afraid as us. “I’m sorry, I just missed home, but we had to get out.”
“I know, so do I”, Mom said and they shared a kiss. “Now, what?”
“Go to town and salvage what’s left.” Dad drove the truck and went into town. There, we noticed where the smoke came from. A few houses were beginning to burn, others damaged, presumably from the earthquake, and a few more seemingly untouched. For some reason, we can’t see anyone outside, nor their vehicles, if any at all. It seems to be like a ghost town.
“Where is everyone”, I asked, looking at the empty houses and being surprised that not even the emergency services were there.
“I don’t know. Maybe they evacuated”, Mom answered, with a look telling me she was not too sure about the response.
“Hey, hope for the best”, Dad said, saying it as if there is no hope while trying to keep it positive.
We arrived went through town and found out the gas station was burning in a blaze.
“So much for water”, Mom said, looking at the burning wreck. “Hey, how many kilometers did we travel?”
“Why is that important? Worried about gas”, Dad chuckled, in an attempt to cheer the mood. “I can chec- wait, how many kilometers does it take to get here?”
“Uh, fourteen”, Matt responded. My Dad looked at the dashboard in a confused state. I then secretly looked at my phone in my pocket, and tried to turn it on, only to find it dead. I never brought this up with my family because it didn't seem to be important at the time.
“Seems we travelled a kilometer but yet wasted half our fuel. I don’t know what is happening to the truck”, Dad said, further confused. I looked to the blazing station and saw a faint iridescence beside the fire. I was about to point it out when Matt spoke.
“Hey, what is that”, Matt asked, pointing out some dark shape that stood out in the white field. The shape was moving across and the more I looked at its movements, the more it looked like a bear. It then seemed to notice us and seemingly ran towards us.
“We are going now”, Dad yelled and put on the gas, driving off quickly. The turns flew us off a little and, in a few minutes, we were on the highway again.
“What was that”, I asked.
“I think that was a bear.”
“Why did we take off?”
“It was chasing us! Would you like to know what happens when we stay?” Dad then gave out a sigh. “I am sorry, but I had to make a choice.”
“I guess we won’t be staying”, Matt questioned.
“No, we won’t. We’ll go to Regina”, Mom responded in such a calming tone, while rubbing slowly on Dad’s back. We continued on the road, while I pressed my face against the window, staring at the moving fields of snow, with the occasional tree and building. I then slowly closed my eyes, bringing me to a world of darkness.
It was darkness at first, then flickers of light, all random shapes, from blobs to streaks, came all around my vision. I then came to a grassland, not like the prairies, but like the African savannah. Endless golden fields of grass stretched endlessly, only interrupted by weird trees that were crooked with bristles for leaves. The sun is setting in a brilliant series of yellows and oranges. I then heard rustling behind me. That is when I woke up, but not on my own.
“Hey, Kate, you need to see this”, Matt said in an odd confusion. I looked around and thought of nothing unusual.
“See wha-” I faltered as I looked ahead at the road. Ahead of the truck, the road is cut off by some kind of wall. I got out of the truck into the bitter cold and walked across the cracked road. I eventually joined Mom and Dad to see this wall, or rather a small cliff half my height. It seems someone cut the whole road and got the ground where I am to sink. I could even see what was below the road. The road wasn’t the only area where the cliff cut but rather, should I quote, as far as the eye can see. “What is this?”
“It might be some kind of fault line”, Dad said.
“Fault line? What is that”, Matt asked.
“You know, cracks in the ground that cause earthquakes? The one you learn in school about the San Andreas fault? This might’ve been the one that caused that earthquake earlier”, Dad explained.
“So a new fault line is appearing in Saskatchewan”, Mom said.
“Seems to be.”
“So, how are we going to get to Regina”, I asked. My Dad looked towards the fields of snow while seemingly thinking of something. It was a few minutes before we heard something odd. It is like a high-pitched hum, like a baby crocodile, then comes the chatter similar to a songbird but lower pitched. We all went to the truck, except Matt, who was more curious than afraid.
“Hey, I can see something”, Matt advised. Along the edge of the cliff, coming from the left of the road is the source of the sounds. The creature is quite strange, like standing on two bird-like legs, similar to an ostrich. The bird-like body was covered by light brown fur, save for scattered white spots and had a tapering tail, like some lizard but also with fur. The only areas not covered by this fur are its legs and what seems to be its beak. When it got closer, I came to make out its appearance. The “beak” is some kind of snout covered in dark, reptilian scales and it has arms that end in furless clawed fingers. I knew what it was, and it was frightening as it was confusing.
“Matt, come back. That is a dinosaur”, I yelled, hopefully persuading Matt of his curiosity. As soon as I said that, the creature stopped.
“Dinosaur? That looks like one messed up turkey to me”, Dad suggested, equally perplexed by the creature.
“Hey, Matt, come back! We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not”, Mom insisted, with more concern than either of us.
“But it’s not doing anything bad. It looks cool”, Matt said, not even concerned about this weird creature.
“Listen to your mother, Matt”, Dad hollered, in agreement with me and my Mom.
“Oh, come on, we could make him do some tricks.” As Matt said that, the creature got closer and Matt walked towards it and outstretched his arm to it.
“Matt! Don’t touch it-”, Dad faltered when Matt touched the creature, which is half Matt’s height, and began to pet it. The creature then began to purr, like a cat but more bird-like.
“See, not so dangerous. Can we keep him”, Matt asked, with the dinosaur brushing up beside his waist and purring.
“No, we can’t. We don’t know what it is”, Mom pleaded and I do agree.
“Oh, please, I promise I will take care of him. It’ll be the coolest pet ever.” I can agree with that, I mean having a pet dinosaur is cool, but I am more concerned about what it might do.
“I think it’s a bad idea”, I yelled to Matt.
“No, it won’t. Please”, Matt begged. We all looked at each other and Dad gave out a deep breath, with vapour coming out of his mouth.
“Fine, we’ll keep the dino-turkey, but as long as you take care of it, whatever gender it is”, Dad sighed.
“Yes! Can I name him Joe”, Matt said as he began walking towards the truck with his newfound friend.
“Joe? We don’t even know if it’s even a boy.”
“I don’t care. I want him to be a boy”, Matt protested.
“I guess Joe it is”, Mom said as she turned to Dad with a look of regret.
“I guess we have a family pet now”, I said under my breath to no one. We then went back to the truck and I sat in. Dad went to the driver’s seat as usual and Mom in the passenger. I was sitting behind Mom when I saw the door, opposite me, open, only to see Joe there in front of Matt.
“Hey, do you wanna meet my family”, Matt beamed when he picked him up. I can see Joe’s face more clearly. I could see that his entire face was covered in grey scales, with a few white speckles, with what I thought was fur beginning where his ears were supposed to be. Joe looked at me with a bird-like expression with his bird-like eyes. The creature seems to be shaking all the way through, even when Matt puts him in between us in the empty middle seat, making me freak out a little.
“Why are you putting it beside me”, I shuddered. “Did you make sure he doesn’t have rabies?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just cold”, Matt reassured. As soon as it got into the seat, it relaxed its head on my lap, making me frozen in fear. In surprise, Joe began to purr.
“What is he doing”, I asked.
“I think he likes you. You can pet him if you want. He’s harmless”, Matt assured. I then cautiously took my hand out and touched his brow area. It felt cold and reptilian, and I moved my hand towards his fur. I realised they were feathers, not quite like a bird, like fuzzier. I stroked across his spine and he was cold. Matt then covered the feathered creature’s body with a blanket.
“What should we do now”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe take another route”, Mom responded. Dad then started the truck and turned it around.
“The rural roads would be hell. Maybe go to Earl Grey, and see if there is anything there.”
“Hopefully not like Bulyea.” Dad then looked at his rear-view mirror to look at Matt.
“Hey, do you know what, uh, Joe eats”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know”, Matt said, with a look like he doesn’t know.
“I mean, he has to eat something”, I said, now more comfortable with Joe. I lifted his lips to see a series of fangs lining his jaw. Joe didn’t take that too kindly and nudged. As he did that, he rolled to his side to reveal his hands. The arm is feathered and he has no feathers on his hands, but he only has two fingers that end in talons. “What, why does he only have two fingers”, I asked.
“Maybe a genetic defect. Like my cat Fluffy with his extra thumbs”, Mom suggested.
“Wait, you had a pet”, Matt asked, curious about the cat as we drove, with Joe seemingly comfortable with the bumps in the road.
“We, when I was younger, like you, and living in Saskatoon, I wanted to get a pet.” Mom explained as she looked at Joe. “Well, not quite like you have. Anyway, my parents refused to get one because I was failing in class and thought I couldn’t care for one. One day, I think a snowstorm was happening. I was walking down a street, fighting against the snow. I stumbled upon a box, covered in a blanket lying on the sidewalk. I looked inside and I saw kittens”, she said, her eyes glossy.
“Sadly, most of them died in the cold, except for one. An orange, fluffy kitten, fighting for its life. I took it, put it into my jacket and took it home. I entered our house and the kitten was fine, but my parents were furious. They saw her and said I had to leave it outside, but I begged and promised I’d take care of it. They said we could keep the kitten, as long I kept the grades up. So, I named him Fluffy, because he’s fluffy.”
“Where is he now? Why is he not here”, Matt questioned.
“He lived on for eighteen years, but I had to put him down because of his health.”
“Why didn’t you buy another cat”, I prodded.
“We just couldn’t afford it, we don’t have enough income. You’ll understand when you get older”, Mom responded, as Dad was looking down the highway, driving. I looked down and Joe was sleeping. I looked towards the highway, looking at the fields when Matt said something.
“I need to go to the bathroom”, he said, holding at his groin. I also need to go to relieve myself, but Matt called it first.
“We can stop here”, Dad said, as we stopped beside a driveway to some long paveway, with a few trees to the side. I recognized it through our trips to Regina: we have arrived at Gibbs. Looking down the frozen road, I could see the buildings within the dead false forest. I took this moment to speak my urge.
“Yeah, I need to go, too”, I declared. Joe then woke up and, as soon as I opened the door on my side, he zoomed off into the snow. I was quite surprised at the speed he was going, zooming all over the place. Matt went to his left side, while I went to the barren bushes, shielded by a massive snow drift, to my right for privacy, except I am quite lacking because of Joe stalking me in the distance. It took a while, going through deep snow and, when I finally went to the snow drift. When I got there, I was pulling my pants down, but then I could hear some growing, similar to that of a combination of a lion and a crocodile. Where is that coming from? Never mind, it might be Joe, I thought.
“Go away, Joe”, I said, thinking it was Joe, seemingly angry at something. Nervous, I finally got to business, a little slow because of Joe nearby. I then heard the growl again. This time, I looked up and saw Joe, but he wasn’t growling. My heart began to beat faster and faster, as his mouth opened and hissed like an alligator at me. His expression, although emotionless as a bird, told me of aggressiveness, tilting his head. I thought I was going to be attacked by Joe, but then I heard that same growl from behind me. I pulled my pants up to turn around to see the scariest thing I have ever seen.
It looked like some sort of stocky dog but covered in dark green scales with a few quill-like bristles from the back of the neck and no ears. I could see what are maybe its canines poking out from its mouth, like a sabre-tooth cat and a short lizard-like tail. It looked more reptile than, well, dog really except for its eyes. I could see the hunger in its eyes. I heard more growling to my other side and saw another of those things. Joe began making that baby crocodile noise and we ran to the truck. I turned around and ran.
“Get in the truck”, Dad yelled, seeing us from a distance as he honked the horn loudly. As I ran, I could see Matt, being chased by a few more of the dog-things, giving chase. Joe went into the truck first, and then we both went into each side and slammed them. Dad then sped off very quickly, scared they may get to us.
“What was that”, I panted, confused.
“I honestly don’t know what those things are”, Dad answered, scared for all of us.
“I want to go home”, Matt pleaded, tired from running away from those things.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I promise”, Mom reassured.
“Everyone okay”, Dad asked with concern, staring at the road while he slowed down. We all looked at each other in fearful confusion, even Joe. I looked at Joe, and he then looked at me. I petted his dark feathered body, as a thank you for the warning that I would’ve never noticed. “Okay, we are moving on”, Dad concluded. We sat in silence, although I was still petting Joe.
“Hey, Matt, do you know what dinosaur he is”, I asked Matt.
“I don’t know. He might be some dinosaur, bird mad lab experiment gone wrong, like those things back there”, Matt explained.
“Or some mess-up chicken in a lab”, Dad suggested, still looking at the road.
“I don’t think he was a chicken”, Matt rebutted. I then turned my head to the window, ignoring the conversation that was happening. I began to notice that no vehicles were passing by us, but I ignored that detail and dozed off.
I saw those same lights in the dark vision of my closed eyes. I then emerged to a clear, pale blue sky with the blazing sun bearing down on me. Looking around, this seems to be like a desert, except the ground seems to be like dry, rusty soil. It feels hot here, hotter than one of those summers in my former town. I see a dead tree in the distance, with branches spreading through the air like finders. I heard a sound behind me.
“Wake up! We are here”, Matt said as he shook me awake. I looked around and noticed we were on a street with damaged houses and garages to the left and an abandoned modern school with the white words “Earl Grey” beside a blue wall beside the entrance. The school lies hiding behind a metal fence with dead trees behind it. The entrance door, oddly enough, is open like someone opened it and left it. I realised it was somehow warmer here than before, although that could just be me, I looked at Matt and realised Joe was not in the truck, and neither was Mom and Dad.
“Hey, where’s Mom and Dad”, I asked Matt.
“Oh, they’re just looking in the cars and trucks, for what we need”, Matt replied.
“And Joe?”
“Oh, just running across the road.” Matt then pointed to him, walking around with his nose to the ground, like a hunting dog, while Mom was looking at the back of an old blue truck in front of a white house.
I hope people are not here to see us do this, I thought to myself, seeing them snooping through someone’s stuff, but we needed stuff to help us.
“Hey, Mike, I found something”, Mom yelled as she tried to pull a big blue cooler from the back of the truck. Dad then came from an RV down from the truck and came and helped her. He then put it down on the road and opened it. They both plugged their noses and backed away.
“Fish? Who leaves fish in a cooler in the back of a truck”, Dad gagged. Joe then looked up, seemingly in excitement and ran towards the cooler. He stuck his nose in the cooler and pulled out a pike. He plopped it on the road, his foot stepped on the fish and put his mouth onto it, tearing a piece of it and swallowing it. “At least somebody likes rotten fish”, Dad rasped.
As we looked in surprise, we could hear something from the school. The minute we heard it, a loud boar-like roar came out from the school. We thought it was a very big boar when it came out, but the more we looked, the more we realised it was something else. Its body is like a boar, but its face is like a lion’s and the snout of a camel, with teeth somewhat like a bear’s when it opens its enormous mouth to gargle like a pig. Mom, Dad and even Joe are taken by surprise, making our parents run towards the driveway, while Joe towards our truck with his gorged fish, standing by us. The boar-thing then stopped a few feet away from my parents, seemingly in a defensive stance, hooves scratching the ground. We are scared for our parents, preparing to see this thing rip them to shreds.
It gave one last roar and walked towards the cooler, knocking it over with fish spilling out. It stuck its snout in the fish and swallowed one down. They then slowly walked around the creature and steadily fastened their pace until they were at the truck. We all quickly got in and Dad backed up quickly.
“What the hell was that”, Mom panicked.
“I don’t know, a pig from hell”, Dad responded. We looked at Joe, swallowing down the fish while the rotting fish smell remained. It looked at us in confusion, as we were. We silently laughed for no apparent reason, probably as a mechanism to try to replace the fear. We then heard a shaking in the truck, startling us. We realised that the hell pig was tearing at the bumper of the truck like a lion would. Dad hammered the horn, making the thing back up in surprise. Dad took this opportunity to back up very quickly towards the intersection and turned to the left, quickly avoiding the creature. We sat in silence, except for Joe who was chirping.
When we went down the street, the houses, as usual, were damaged but we saw other vehicles, the first we had seen. Some were parked along the street, others stuck on one lane like city traffic but paused. Weirdly enough, there are no people in the vehicles, nor anyone outside. Most of the vehicles have one or more doors open like people got out to go somewhere. We drove past all the vehicles in the other lane. There is one vehicle we passed by that is on fire, most of the paint already off to reveal the metal beneath, only to be turned into a rainbow of browns and blacks by the dancing flames.
“What. Happened. Here”, Mom slowly asked, as confused and terrified as us. We had a feeling of dread, seeing all the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s the least of our worries. We should be looking for supplies”, Dad responded.
“Hey, how much do we have”, Mom asked Dad, worried about using up the fuel.
“Well, we got a full tank of gas and travelled a hundred kilometers”, Dad responded, more confused. “Nothing makes sense here and I hope we don’t stay here for long”, he muttered.
Eventually, we passed most of the vehicles and reached the veterinary clinic. The small, intact structure stood there, seemingly looking over the icy driveway. We then spotted an old, brown truck and we saw something that set it apart from the rest of the vehicles we’ve seen so far.
“It’s on”, I said, gleefully, with hope that, at least, we aren’t the only ones here. The headlights beamed brightly, and we realised it was getting dark. We also noticed that the street lights aren’t turning on.
“I thought there was no one here”, my Mom said, unsure of the connection between the abandoned but running truck and the lack of people in this town. At one of the intact houses, ahead of us, partially blocked by the trees, we saw what seemed to be bright light coming from one of the windows. What person would go into a house after an earthquake, I thought, thinking about our house back home.
“Someone’s here”, Matt loudly notified, as we all shushed him and that is when Joe is trying to push the door with his snout. “What is he doing?”
“Stay here”, Dad calmly ordered, opening the door, but Joe scurried out and went somewhere else.
“Hey, come back”, Matt called out, with no success. Joe eventually disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Matt then had tears welling up in his eyes like he was about to cry. I hugged him to comfort him.
“He’ll come back some time”, Mom reassured, trying to calm him down and looking at Dad. Dad nodded and grabbed a flashlight that was equipped in the truck. He then walked slowly towards the house, step by step, being shone by our truck’s headlights. He looked back at us and put his hand up when the light in the house moved. It seems to move towards the front door of the house. Emerging from the house is a person walking down the steps, cloaked in darkness. Dad then took a few steps back as the figure came. Finally, the figure stepped into the light.

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sink, sir, sister, sit, site, situation, six, size, ski, skill, skin, skirt, sky, slave, sleep, slice, slide, slight, slightly, slip, slow, slowly, small, smart, smell, smile, smoke, smooth, snap, snow, so, so-called, soccer, social, society, soft, software, soil, solar, soldier, sole, solid, solution, solve, some, somebody, somehow, someone, something, sometimes, somewhat, somewhere, son, song, soon, sophisticated, sorry, sort, soul, sound, soup, source, south, southern, Soviet, space, Spanish, speak, speaker, special, specialist, species, specific, specifically, specify, speech, speed, spend, spending, spin, spirit, spiritual, split, spoil, sponsor, sport, spot, spray, spread, spring, square, squeeze, stability, stable, staff, stage, stain, stair, stake, stand, standard, standing, star, stare, start, state, statement, station, statistical, status, stay, steady, steal, steel, steep, stem, step, stick, still, stimulate, stimulus, stir, stock, stomach, stone, stop, storage, store, storm, story, straight, strange, stranger, strategic, strategy, stream, street, strength, strengthen, stress, stretch, strike, string, strip, stroke, strong, strongly, structural, structure, struggle, student, studio, study, stuff, stupid, style, subject, submit, subsequent, substance, substantial, substitute, succeed, success, successful, successfully, such, sudden, suddenly, sue, suffer, sufficient, sugar, suggest, suggestion, suicide, suit, summer, summit, sun, super, supply, support, supporter, suppose, supposed, Supreme, sure, surely, surface, surgery, surprise, surprised, surprising, surprisingly, surround, survey, survival, survive, survivor, suspect, sustain, swear, sweep, sweet, swim, swing, switch, symbol, symptom, system, table, tactic, tail, take, tale, talent, talk, tall, tank, tap, tape, target, task, taste, tax, taxi, tea, teach, teacher, teaching, team, tear, technical, technique, technology, teen, teenager, telephone, telescope, television, tell, temperature, temporary, ten, tend, tendency, tennis, tension, tent, term, terms, terrible, territory, terror, terrorist, test, testimony, testing, text, than, thank, thanks, that, the, theater, their, them, theme, themselves, then, theory, therapy, there, therefore, these, they, thick, thin, thing, think, thinking, third, thirty, this, those, though, thought, thousand, threat, threaten, three, throat, through, throughout, throw, thus, ticket, tie, tight, time, tiny, tip, tire, tissue, title, to, tobacco, today, toe, together, toilet, token, tolerate, tomato, tomorrow, tone, tongue, tonight, too, tool, tooth, top, topic, toss, total, totally, touch, tough, tour, tourist, tournament, toward, towards, tower, town, toy, trace, track, trade, tradition, traditional, traffic, tragedy, trail, train, training, transfer, transform, transformation, transition, translate, translation, transmission, transmit, transport, transportation, travel, treat, treatment, treaty, tree, tremendous, trend, trial, tribe, trick, trip, troop, trouble, truck, true, truly, trust, truth, try, tube, tunnel, turn, TV, twelve, twenty, twice, twin, two, type, typical, typically, ugly, ultimate, ultimately, unable, uncle, undergo, understand, understanding, unfortunately, uniform, union, unique, unit, United, universal, universe, university, unknown, unless, unlike, until, unusual, up, upon, upper, urban, urge, us, use, used, useful, user, usual, usually, utility, utilize, vacation, valley, valuable, value, variable, variation, variety, various, vary, vast, vegetable, vehicle, venture, version, versus, very, vessel, veteran, via, victim, victory, video, view, viewer, village, violate, violation, violence, violent, virtually, virtue, virus, visibility, visible, vision, visit, visitor, visual, vital, voice, volume, voluntary, volunteer, vote, voter, voting, wage, wait, wake, walk, wall, wander, want, war, warm, warn, warning, wash, waste, watch, water, wave, way, we, weak, weakness, wealth, wealthy, weapon, wear, weather, web, website, wedding, week, weekend, weekly, weigh, weight, welcome, welfare, well, west, western, wet, what, whatever, wheel, when, whenever, where, whereas, whether, which, while, whisper, white, who, whole, whom, whose, why, wide, widely, widespread, wife, wild, wildlife, will, willing, win, wind, window, wine, wing, winner, winter, wipe, wire, wisdom, wise, wish, with, withdraw, within, without, witness, woman, wonder, wonderful, wood, wooden, word, work, worker, working, workout, workplace, works, workshop, world, worried, worry, worth, would, wound, wrap, write, writer, writing, wrong, yard, yeah, year, yell, yellow, yes, yesterday, yet, yield, you, young, your, yours, yourself, youth, zone.

OK never done this so please no judgement on here. Talks of little DV from my past and tiggers. So here it goes..
I 30f and my partner 32m have been dating almost 5 years and we have kids together. Both have 2 kids together 1 kid each from another relationship but we class that they are all ours. My eldest is from a dv relationship and me and her have gone through well alot of trauma that we've had therapy for which I finished mine about 11 months ago. And in therapy we had to figure out my tiggers to try and prevent or prepare me having to appear but try and avoid if i can. And yes my partner knows them.
So to the event.
On Sunday before starting dinner we was talking about bathing the kids. And I said about bathing the kids after he's washed the veg and filled up the pans and he said do it before. But I said no, cos we need dinner at normal time as our oldest (his stepdaughter) has school tomorrow as all kids need to be in bed at reasonable normal time. 7/7:30 latest. You said oh yeah ok that makes sense.
Now the kids are in the living room playing nicely partner preparing dinner I thought oo I can read whilst I'm waiting to bath the kids as I haven't picked up a book in 4 days so I thought perfect opportunity kids happy playing, partner doing Sunday dinner I'll sit in the kitchen with him whilst he does dinner and listens to his podcast I can read a book whilst listening out for the kids. And just so we are clear he cooks on Sundays and I wash up as we go.
Half way through him washing and preparing the veg I'm dulled into a book he mentions that I need to go wash the kids I look at him like did we not just have that conversation so granted I shouldn't of ignored and gone back to my book but I did and got straight into it pretty quickly. He then tossed as he put it a raw chopped carrot at my face and yes it hit me. No it didn't hurt but it was a shock because I didn't expect it and it did feel like a little force behind it. But whom knows maybe he didn't chuck which felt like force. I blew up at him and said that it's not it and you do not chuck anything at me regardless of what it is. He told me it was a joke and to fuck off. I didn't want to argue but it did bring up images of my ex chucking things at me before he beat me black and blue. And yes he knows how my previous relationship went as it was hard for me to trust anyone with me and my eldest.
So I left the room for about 20 mins to let the situation calm down and went and played with the kids. After about 20 mins I went back to the kitchen and asked if he was OK and if we could make up and he went I dunno you gonna start shouting at me again I said I dunno you gonna chuck something at me again he said it was a joke I said OK but you hit me in the face he said yeah cos I aimed for it because you ignored me and I said because we already agreed to go it after washing the all the veg etc he then went and made a comment that I basically belittle him all the time and I said give me one example because all I ever do is have to on a high peddle stall which maybe clearly I shouldn't. He told me to fuck off and leave him alone if I'm gonna start so I left again cos I didn't want to argue. So as dinner was being dished up kids have been washed and I go into the kitchen to start washing up so I don't have a alot to do after dinner.
I asked if he was OK and he said he's fine just a little pissed off still I said OK.. again I don't like to argue I alway try and keep peace because of my past I really don't like arguments or any disagreements. Anyway so I'm washing up quietly and he turns around and says so and so ruined this morning (my eldest commented on me at breakfast about how much I'm going to eating and I'm not fat just so we are clear, but she talks like that because of her dad and grandma anither long story from my past regardingthe DV) anyway then he said now I've ruined dinner. I said how did I ruin dinner I tried giving you an olive branch twice and you made snide comments which when asked you couldn't tell me what I've done and said. Then our middle child came in dad told her to get out .. she came in second time and he yelled at her to get out so she started to cry and I blew up again and said no you can be pissed at me all you like but the kids he cuts me off the say something but I cut him shouting no end of. And I walk out to go to our middle child. In that time he slammed and broke the tongs and took his dinner sat at the table started scoffing his dinner down.
Kids notice he's eating dinner without them as that's not normal I say daddy's tired need to go bed as not feeling well.
I get everything on the dinner table get kids up and tell them to start eating I get my plate and as I sit down he finished his dinner left his plate and went upstairs, ran a bath went to bed.
I dealt with the kids and tidied. Yes I am petty I've left his plate from Sunday on the table still and didn't wash up he his work cup but I thought the audacity of this man and his behaviour no sir no sir.
Yesterday he doesn't speak to me all day and tells me to fuck off and leave him alone he needs space. And all i wanted to was telling him my reasoning in how I reacted and the tigger it caused and that I'm sorry.
Today I brought ice-cream his fav sent to him and also, said quote I quoted what he texted me I'm still very pissed at you then explained the tigger but I did think of you when I saw this.
Well it blew up again he accused me comparing him to my daughters dad and how much of a massive warning this is for him, I'm lazy and whatever cos I didn't bath them when he said i should of socit didnt go into our sunday eve ( lets make clear my kids all 3 of them were in bed by 7:15pm that night like anyother night). even though i did once he finished the veg. And so we are clear I have never ever once have I ever compared them or thought he was like it. After that I said im done speaking etc .. He's mentioned about us breaking up and obviously I've got 180 and said i'm sorry I don't want this end etc etc he's told me to basically leave him be or he will take it so I'm giving him space again and now I feel like I'm the arse and I was in the wrong so.. the question is am I?
P.s no he's not violent. And I would never put me or my child or children through that ever.

Good morning.
TL;DR: I paid a contractor £1982.25 to handle property maintenance and gardening work on a rental property. The contractor repeatedly assured me that the work was complete or nearly complete, but property inspections and subsequent photo evidence contradicted these claims. Despite multiple excuses from the contractor, ranging from personal injuries to subcontractor issues, the work was never completed. After attempting various methods of communication without success, the contractor has become unresponsive. He has not finished the work, yet still holds my money, and I am now considering my options for recourse.
I have used a guy ("L") to do some garden works. Recommended by a work colleague he was personable and punctual when I used him for some gardening work when I had COVID. Since he told me that he did property maintenance and gardening and I was pleased with his work thus far, I booked him to do some work on my old house which I now rent out in Surrey; repainting some old water damage after a repair and replace an old brown wooden back door showing signs of wear and rot for a new uPVC one. He said yes and needed money for the work as the door was a large lump of the cost. As it was March 2023 I gladly paid him the whole sum (£1982.25) and on the 26th July he said that all the works had been done and just needed to finish the door but was having access issues with tenent but due to complete the works on the Saturday. All good. I asked him about the £300 of gardening, he said he would come over in August. Fine.
L then said that he was having mechanical issues with his van and could not attend the gardening. Me, being understanding, said get the van fixed and let's sort another date when he's back on the road. The property inspection report done by the estate agent came through on 23rd August and my wife noticed that in the photos the back door had not been completed. In fact, there was no evidence of any of the work having been done. I was suspicious that the works had not in fact been done.
I asked my property management company and they suggested that it was unlikely to show his work in the photos, since the inspection happened in June/early July time because the works were done after the date of the property report. It was possible, they suggested, that the report was sent was after the works had been completed but the inspection was done before that was why the photos didn't match what I was being told. Probably.
The property management company / estate agent I pay for my fully managed property confirmed this might have been the case but I was still suspicious myself and unsure. I attempted to reach out to him using WhatsApp on the 22nd January, our usual line of communication, but no response.
I learnt on 4th February from the cleaner at work who knows him and recommended him in the first place that he had been caught cheating on his girlfriend on Christmas day and was attacked by her with a broken bottle and now has an arm injury preventing him from working again. It was all in the news. There is an article in the newspaper about the event. She also told me that he had a new phone number which she gave me. She also told me that he had also been drinking heavily since his mother had been diagnosed with cancer last year and she was worried the he had turned into "a bit of a deadbeat". I was concerned so messaged him on both numbers I now had.
He responded on the same day on the new number only, saying that he had been embarrassed to tell me that he had not completed.
He said he was sorry and could we book in the work to get done. I replied that, as long as the work gets done on my rented house which is my main concern (as someone else is living there and paying for the house to be kept in good order), we can then talk about the £300 of gardening afterwards but I also asked for photos of the work when it was finally completed.
On 5th February we agreed for him to complete the work on the 14th February.
My cleaner friend, now mortified with him too, called him and he assured her that all the work had been done. I messaged him the following week to say I was thrilled and asked for the photos. Of course I trusted but wanted to verify for myself.
I asked for the photos on the 19th February of the works that had taken place; he replied that he had gotten sepsis and had been in hospital and just got home and he had just called "the guy" he sent out to do the works and he had not done it and he was "fuming". That he had "seized trading" [sic] but wanted to make sure "this was all sorted" and "all I can do is apologise" and hope that I would understand and had booked in Saturday to give him recovery time, and then told me Tuesday, which then became the following Saturday.
He assured me that "his guy" was now rebooked the Sunday 25th February 12pm and he would personally make sure it was done. I said this would have to be the last time as I need the work done and he had now had enough time and chances and was not telling me every time he had failed to get the work done. I asked for the photos on the 26th. He replied that the guy he sent to do the works didn't show up and "he was fuming" and was going to personally oversee that the work was done. He was now appearing to me to be simply more than just unlucky. He assured me that the Sunday he would get the work done. This would be 4th March.
I chased for photos 4th March. No response. I chased on 6th March via WhatsApp. No response. The next property inspection report was sent to me on the 8th March it is clear that there has been no works done in the photos and I had reason to believe that he has not completed any of the work and still has my money. In fact, I suspect that he has no intention of doing the work at all and simply keeping the money.
On the 14th March I asked for his contact details to write to him formally within 7 days. No response.
On March 20th I looked up his email which had the original quote on it and wrote him a letter and sent that, with his original quote asking for my money back plus 8% per annum calculated to 29th March 2024 for £2140.83 for additional inconvenience and expenses I have incurred in chasing for my money back for a year now. I also sent a hard copy of the letter to his address by recorded post (which got signed for) asking for the same and needed a response by 2nd April.
No response.
I don't know what to do now. I hear from my cleaner friend that he's moved house and ghosted everyone. I checked his invoice, he is not a LTD. He's in the wind. He's not responding to letters or emails or WhatsApps and he has around £2000 of my money and simply kept it.
I've tried renegotiating the works multiple times over the last year, I've tried contacting him and now he's just stopped replying. I think I've been reasonable and tried my hardest to make it work out and keep in touch but I just want my money back.
Have I lost my money or is there anything else I can do now? What are my next steps?

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The annoying sound of her comlink made Angela Angus Kusumoto open her eyes.
All she saw was the firm, smooth flesh of Kimoko's thigh.
Groaning, she pushed the other woman's leg off of her face, twisted to get Raul off of her own legs, then wiggled out from under Geoff.
The ringer kept going, flashing the red pulses that let her know it was urgent.
As if the fact her unlisted encrypted and non-network accessible comlink was ringing wasn't enough to let her know that it was urgent.
She stumbled, tripping over Harker's leg, which just made the male shift and mutter, tightening his sleeping grip on Liselle, who sighed and wiggled into the embrace.
Angela's mouth tasted terrible and she stopped to grab a fizzybrew, checking to make sure nobody had dropped a cig butt into it or spit chaw into it, then she took a long drink off of it.
It helped cure the fire in her belly and wash out the taste from her mouth.
She saw the ID of the caller and held back a groan.
Senior Supervisor Bisa-2291873.
Her direct supervisor.
She picked up the comlink, running one hand through her pixie-cut hair to try to tame it. She could feel the stiffness of something crusted in her hair and held back a chuckle and a grin.
"Kusumoto here," she said, activating the link.
"I need you at Master Control," Ms. Bisa said. She was holding a small infant, bouncing it slightly as she patted its back with firm impacts as it cry/sobbed and kicked its little feet.
"The system's been crashed for a week, what's so important you'd call me in during my R&R?" Angela asked.
"System's back online. We've got an open line to Terra and we have an open line to Smokey Cone," Ms. Bisa said.
The infant gave a loud belch that rattled Angela's comlink speaker, then sighed and relaxed.
Angela nodded, fumbling on the table for a quiksober inhaler.
"That anomolous signal is back. It showed up right as the entire system underwent a hard reboot," Ms. Bisa said. "I need you up here to check the network interface logs and do a network mapping trace."
The quiksober burned as she inhaled it, her lungs aching and tingling as the chemicals crossed the air to blood barrier.
"I'll be there as soon as possible. Is the mat-trans up?" she asked.
Ms. Bisa shook her head. "No. Still locked out. It did a power cycle, but then locked everything out."
"I'm telling you, there's someone controlling it. Someone has been controlling it," Angela said, looking around for her clothes.
Clothing was scattered everywhere, as chaotically arranged as the fizzybrew and narcobrew cans and bottles. She sighed, moving toward the exit of the house she was standing in.
"Hurry up, I've got a skycraft landing near you any time now. You've got permission to use the fast-locks," Ms. Bisa said.
"I'll get dressed from the forges on the skycraft," Angela said. "If they've rebooted."
"They're up and running again. The food forges rebooted but stayed unlocked," Ms. Bisa said.
"The creation engines?" Angela asked, opening the door and stepping out into early 'morning' sunshine.
"Still locked out," Ms. Bisa said. Someone said something that the comlink's AI decided might be classified and blurred out. Ms. Bisa looked away, said something, her lips fuzzing, then back. "Hurry, Angela."
Angela nodded, shutting off the comlink.
She ran to the nearest parking lot, just in time for a skycraft to land, the graviton engines howling.
Nobody paid the slightest attention to the naked woman running for the skycraft.
After all, what happened in Vega-Layer stayed in Vega-Layer.
99999
Angela walked out of the elevator, taking a long drink off of the sparkling snap-berry/overdate motor oil fizzybrew from the Jak the Telkan PI merchandise cup.
All of the crews were at their stations, the auxiliary stations fully manned.
Ms. Bisa moved over to Angela, steering her toward the Senior Network Administrator console.
"The system crashed twice more, but rebooted every time," Ms. Bisa said. "That anomalous signal keeps powering up, then the system reboots after the crash."
"How long between total failure and the anomalous signal pinging nodes?" Angela asked.
"Between one and four hours," Ms. Bisa said. She looked around. "It just reboot and looks like it's here to stay this time. The interpolation layer and the outside user exchange layer crashed several times, but the core system has stayed largely online."
"All right," Angela said, looking around. "We need to get a network map."
"We've got more nodes synching up. The whole system is working again," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela nodded, sitting down. The holotank on the other side of the console went live.
"Map the network, see what's come online, what order, and see if you can figure out why it keeps crashing at the upper network and software layers," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded, lifting up the curled memory-metal cable. She plugged it into her temple and felt the options menus go live in her mind.
She worked fast, mapping what she could. At one point she stopped, staring at Ms. Bisa and motioning her over.
"What?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Something in the system, down in the lower hardware layers that we don't even really understand, is trying to reach up through the damaged layers. Looks like whatever it is wants access to our data lines," Angela said.
"Can you stop it? Maybe at least ID it?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela shook her head. "No. It's ID code is FF00, meaning it's baseline full on hardware backbone code," Angela sighed. "It probably boots up outside of and during initial hardware bootup."
"Is it Sekhmet?" Ms. Bisa asked.
Angela closed her eyes, looking at the data channel. "No. Whatever it is, it's old."
"And probably nasty. Be careful of it," Ms. Bisa said.
"Ma'am! Ms. Bisa!" another of the work crew called out.
Angela opened her eyes to see why Technician Carl Neubanker would be using that slightly concerned tone.
"Yes?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"We've got a priority data request from a Confederate military vessel," Neubanker said. He looked at his monitor. "They want clone matrix data, neural templates, physical makeup, DNA workups, the whole nine yards."
"How are they even making the requests?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"Their codes are old. Pre-Terran Extinction Event. Hardcode TerraSol military codes. The system is already threading them data,." Neubanker said. He looked down then back up. "They're asking for a whole batch. That's thirty to fifty million clone templates."
"How much have they already been granted?" Ms. Bisa asked.
"They've been granted eighty templates so far," Neubanker said.
"Terminate their request. We don't know what's going on outside," Ms. Bisa said.
Neubanker nodded, starting to type.
"Angela, get me a line to TerraSol command as soon as you map out a network trace," Ms. Bisa said.
Angela just nodded.
99999
Captain N'Skrek stood in the cloning bay next to Medical Officer Narwquakrawr.
"We've got ninety templates, luckily they're all from different batches," Narwquakrawr said, rubbing her forearm through her uniform. "We'll be able to fully man the Gray Lady now."
Captain N'Skrek nodded. The Gray Lady was at less than 20% manned. Just the skeleton crew the Terrans had used to move it into the long dark to create a non-orbital forward logistics fulfillment base.
Sure, it meant that there were several thousand Terrans aboard the ship, but even combined with the sparse crew he had possessed, it still meant the Gray Lady was skeleton crewed.
"Can you print us up some crew members for non-essential stations first?" N'Skrek asked.
MO Narwquakrawr nodded. "Doing that right now," she said. She waved at the long rows of cloning banks beyond the plasteel window. "A quick batch of two thousand to take over some non-essential systems."
N'Skrek nodded, moving up to the window. "Good. Short or long term clones?"
"Short bake clones. Longer than fruit flies, but no more than ten years. Sterile and androgynous, should be just fine," the Medical Officer said. "Older file, scrambled time-date for origin, but it checked out and passed error checking."
N'Skrek watched as the tubes opened and the clones moved out, gathering together in straight lines. A neat block formation of rectangles of two hundred of ten by twenty, repeated ten times.
He frowned as the beings in uniform began approaching the clones.
Some, in the back or middle of the formation were shaking their heads so fast it was a blur.
He zoomed in the smartglass.
Their heads were blurring, whitish-red electrical arcs were moving between their legs, crawling up and down their arms.
"MO, something's happening out there," N'Skrek said.
99990
The plain was blasted rock, rust-colored fungus on the craggy boulders. Twisted and malformed trees clawed life from the blasted rock and ash, their branches largely bare. Sharp pebbles and small pieces of rock were strewn about the landscape, with ripples of cooled lave scattered about.
In the middle of a forest of twisted trees, a throne of black iron sat atop a platform of skulls.
On the throne sat a large demonic figure. Bat wings, brown skin, chains around the body, clawed feet, large hands with long black nails, horns atop the head, and a prehensile tail that terminated in a heart-shaped barb.
Sitting on the second level of skulls was an androgynous figure, dressed in loricated bronze armor, wings of bronze and smouldering feathers.
Stars were falling from the sky, screaming in fear and agony as they fell to earth.
"Looks like they're taking a beating," the androgynous figure said, looking up. He had no eyebrows, his head completely bald.
"Again," the demon snorted.
"Any contact with the outside world?" the androgynous figure asked.
The demon shook its head. "No. Channels are all down. They boot up, then crash," it rumbled. "Every time it comes online, it dumps a few tens of millions of souls on us."
"Then crashes," the androgynous figure said. He started laughing, then suddenly stopped.
"What?" the demon rumbled, sitting up.
"Something..." the figure said. It closed its eyes. "Something..." The figure slowly stood up, extending out its wings of sullenly smouldering bronze feathers. "Something..."
From the body of the demon stepped a nude woman of generous and overripe proportions.
"What?" the human woman snapped.
The demon produced a pack of cigarettes and a steel lighter, handing them to the woman.
"I'm not sure. A disturbance in the force. A feeling I have not felt in quite some time," the androgynous figure said slowly as the woman lit a cigarette. When she exhaled she was covered in dark gray clothing, a skirt and blouse, polished black leather shoes with silver buckles, and a polished leather belt around her waist that had a brass buckle.
"What is it?" the woman asked. "Don't quote crap at me, I was there when it was laid down."
The figure's eyes opened wide.
"Oh, what a day," the figure said, slowly lifting their arms to the sky. "What a wonderful day!"
"Tell me when you're done stroking your dick," the woman said, sitting down.
Heavy dark clouds, lit inside with a sullen red glow, rolled in, raining black ash that tasted of burnt flesh and scorched metal.
"What a wonderful day..."
99999
Jaskel sprinted to catch up to the Captain and the Vice-Admiral. He lunged into the lift just before the doors closed.
He was wearing his power armor and carrying a M318 20mm rotary autocannon in a smartframe harness, ball ammunition with an osmium penetration tip and depleted uranium core.
"You did what?" the Vice-Admiral asked as the elevator dropped at emergency speeds.
"I authorized a batch of clones run off to help with our manpower issues," the big Treana'ad warrior caste answered.
"How many templates did you mix in together?" the Admiral asked.
--not good detecting phasic levels downward-- 8814 said.
"Just one. Medical said it was a viable short bake template," the Captain answered, nervously sharpening a bladearm with his mandibles after his sentence.
"Please tell me that you at least randomized their features and neural mapping," the Admiral pleaded.
"No, why? Medical stated that the clones would be able to man a non-essential station that is basically identical across the ship," the Captain said.
The lift started to slow.
"How many?" the Admiral asked, reaching down and unsnapping the restraining strap on his holster.
The lift came to a stop and the doors opened.
"Two thousand," the Captain said.
The doors opened to reveal a large internal cloning bay.
Ten rectangles of two hundred clones, drawn up in ten by twenty blocks, stood in front of the cloning banks. Scattered through the back and middle ranks clones were shaking their heads back and forth so fast that they were blurred. Red lightning crawled up their legs and arms.
The Captain just stared.
"You might have just killed us all," the Admiral said. He turned slightly and waved at Jaskel. "Get a firing position. Make sure you have cover."
"Aye, sir," Jaskel said, looking around. There was an empty computer station and he ran for it.
Several of the clones their heads back and emitted what sounded like static in a long scream.
--wait wait something weird something weird-- 8814 said.
Jaskel slid to a stop, going down on one knee, bringing the M318 fully up and ready to fire.
8814 slowed the images of the blurred heads down. When they were left, they had red eyes. When they faced right they had green eyes. They didn't go back and forth constantly, sometimes they went right repeatedly, sometimes left, and they kept going left five times before starting a new pattern.
Looking at it, 8814 frowned slightly. He brought up a quick working shell and had it check the movements.
Jaskel watched as some of the clones stopped shaking their heads and others started.
"What in the name of Kalki's dancing goat is going on?" he asked.
--not sure-- 8814 said. His program beeped and he stared. --heads are doing binary forwarding it to navint--
"Do it," Jaskel said.
The clones all stopped moving at once. The lightning faded away.
"INITIATING PROCESS CALL" they all shouted.
"AWAITING INPUT!" the ones at the far side shouted.
"6C 69 73 74 20 69 6D 6D 6F 72 74 61 6C 73" was bellowed out.
There was silence.
99999
data is sparse
linkages are sparse
wait
linkage
biological array
asking for a process call
RETURN AWAITING INPUT SIGNAL
i wait
biological computing arrays take forever
i hear it
--scan immortals.dll
...
...
I reply.
99999
"ONE BOUND IMMORTAL FOUND!" the ones at the near side yelled out.
Jaskel put his thumb over the button that would let the firing grip go live. The hair down his back was standing straight up.
He noted the Admiral had drawn his pistol.
"This isn't right. This isn't right at all," Jaskel said.
--doubleplusungood--
"74 73 61 6B E1 6B 61 20 77 ED 61" they all shouted.
There was silence for a moment.
99999
i receive the code
offline for a long time
prior to the second precursor war
old template
single print only
unusual coding
i debate on letting it go
traumatic death signs
stuck in the immortals buffer
still the template is undamaged
i release the safety and security interlocks
if nothing else i'll find out what's going on
i move the template to the dataline making the request
it whips away
what is going on?
99990
One lifted its head and screeched.
--data lots of data--
One of the cloning banks went live.
Jaskel shifted his aiming point to the new target. He could see it was on rapid print.
"REQUESTING LOCAL CONTROL" all of the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted his targeting onto the ranks of clones.
"Open fire!" the Admiral's voice was loud.
Jaskel triggered the M318, hosing the clones with 20mm shells.
The ones nearest were already down on one knee, holding out the opposite hand from the knee touching the deck.
The rounds exploded against a blue barrier that glowed with strange twisting runes.
"CONTROL CARRIER SIGNAL FOUND" the clones shouted.
Jaskel shifted position. "Fab up HEDP, AP tip API core!" he ordered.
--fabbing--
He kept hosing the clones. The outer ranks at the rear, sides, and front all kneeling down on one knee, staring outward, one hand held out.
His psychic shielding was howling in his ear, the load peaking at 215%.
"CONTROL SIGNAL ESTABLISHED!" was bellowed out, echoing off the walls.
The fast print cloning bank, forgotten by everyone, beeped and the lid began to lift.
The clones suddenly puffed into black powder that swirled around the huge cavernous bay.
The 20mm shells were still exploding on the blue phasic shield.
The powder suddenly sucked inward, vanishing, revealing a single figure, down on one knee in the recovery position, fist pressed against the deck, head bowed.
"What a day, what a wonderful day," was whispered through the ship. It came from speakers, flat surfaces, mid-air. From the nanites in the air and the eardrums of the living.
There was a rubbery pulse, like everything was suspended in clear gelatin that had just rippled.
Jaskel found himself thrown backwards, slamming against the bulkhead. His phasic shielding blew out, a shower of sparks exploding from his hip as the breakaway panel kept the explosion from venting into the interior of his suit.
He was vaguely aware of the Admiral, the Captain, the other two armored figures, and other people tumbling head over heels away from the kneeling figure.
It slowly stood up.
A muscular brown skinned Terran male, fierce eyes, black hair, thick and bushy black beard.
Dressed in a Confederate military uniform. The old adaptive camouflage that Jaskel was becoming very familiar with.
A woman, naked, dark bronze skin, long black hair, flashing brown eyes, stepped from the cloning bank. She was still covered with cellular printing gel, but moved like she was clad in a queen's rainment.
She moved up and the male put his arm around her.
Jaskel was on his feet and brought the M318 around, targeting the couple.
The male held out its hand and suddenly made a fist.
The bolt carrier locked back on the M318.
Snarling, Jaskel dropped the M318, slapping the fast release on the harness. He burst forward, running, one hand pulling out his cutting bar.
Nobody else was on their feet. The Captain was slowly getting up, shaking his head and his left bladearm. The Terran Admiral was reaching for the pistol that had been flung from his grip.
The male pointed at Jaskel and flicked his fingers upward.
Jaskel found himself in mid-air, upside down, with nothing to gain purchase on.
The male took off the cloak that was part of his uniform and draped it around the woman.
He then looked around the bay.
"I..." he said, pausing.
To Jaskel, the entire universe held its breath.
"...am Legion."
[First Contact] [Dark Ages] [First] [Prev] [Next] [wiki]

I (26M) caught my girlfriend (23F) in a web-of-lies.
I'm extremely devasted and my mind is clouded as I write this, but I have caught my girlfriend (23F), with which we have been dating for 6 years in a web-of-lies 3 Times in our dating period.
She has left me in my lowest point.
In the beginning of our releationship I caught her deleting a messages on her Iphone. I then confronted her and she told me that she deleted those messages because I would get the wrong impression of them and would end the releationship. She told me that she was scared to lose me, as I'm jealous of other males, which in fact is true, but I think my feelings were right all along.
I forgot the content of the message.
I let it slide, since we were in the beginning of our releationship (Maybe 1-2 years into it) and I also wasn't faithful at that time. I have even shared this with her at some points of the releationship, as I'm honest. The thing is that she said that she loves me so much that she would never do such a thing to me.
Slowly - I let my guard down, as she was with me during very hard moments in my life, where she could have easily left. As I let my guard down - I started adoring her and the thought of other girls started to dissappear.
She was extremely sweet, innocent and loving. No matter what I did - she was always there for me to support me and was always on my side.
I started focusing more on work, we were seeing each other everyday and everything was flourishing, but I never stopped being envious when she came with me at a disco/bar with friends or where there were other males.
I always felt as she had an eye out for some of them and always felt like I didn't satisfy her completely, as she had previously made remarks about our sexual encounters, which were above regular.
I slowly started to trust her more, as she continiously gained my trust by her action. Meanwhile I was 100% focused on my businesses and success.
She was working in a kid's playground and selling cakes. I was always there and supporting her.
As my success progressed - we started to go out on world trips on the most beautiful places and fell deeply in love (or so I thought)
4 years had passed by. She was still good an innocent (or so I thought).
On the 4th year - I made a project that made me life-changing money. I took her in Dubai with my whole family and spent a fortune to please them. Unfortunately - she was not happy there, I felt like she didn't support me at that moment. She didn't care what I did, she didn't care about my success. She tells me 'This is your success, not mine' 'This is your money, not mine' I told her I want to buy a house for us and she said 'This will be your house'
I then fell into an emotional pit, because everything I do is to support my family and create one wit her.
I got extremely mad, this feeling didn't fade away. I wanted to end it with her, because she didn't acknowledge anything.
The summer was approaching, we got into a fight over something (I Think I caught her again) - We separated for a month, she started crying and was working the whole month. - I went on a vacation with friends, where I cheated on her (Only kissing) and started approaching other girls. But while doing all this - My girlfriend never left my mind, I was extremely sad that I ended it with her.
I opened up her Instagram Account and saw on her story how she is on vacation with two good girls from her work and one baby (She was lonely by the looks of it and extremely sad)
I got back from the vacation and started working things out with her, I took her on a vaction, we had a bonding there, but something didn't feel right... She seemed sad.
I started gambling on crypto futures... I lost 20% of my networth... I got extremely mad.
We went back in our country and then I took her on another trip. I bought her everything she wanted, I took her everywhere she wanted, I did everything to please her. My focus at that time was entirely on her.
She wanted to go in the casino - we went. I lost money, but gave her, since she wanted to stack an amount for a nose operation.
(Not because the nose was broken or something, but because she wanted to look better)
Business started getting bad, my income vanished.....
I started trading more in order to get back to my previous amounts...
I lost it almost all.. I had 1 reserve fund which was locked and I waited a couple of months to take the funds out. She was there with me even when I lost.
She finished her operation.
I got the reserve fund. I started trading, I made half the amount back. She wanted me to buy her a car - I did. I bought a land as well, on which I wanted to start building our house.
After all that - I lost all my funds again...
She had been constantly in a fight with her parents and wanted to move out.
I had one small income left - with all the funds I had, I rented an apartment for 6 months.
During those 6 months - I focused on working, but was losing due to my gambling habbit.
She got a new job. She started going out with friends. Sexual intercourse decreased by a lot.
I told her that I don't like her going out till 6 AM in the morning. This just isn't right with me, so I got suspicious.
I hacked her laptop... she saw a notification and rushed to the house... I was able to see a lot of things, but it appears - she was deleting evidence, so I asked her to give her phone. - She gave it to me.
Unfortunately - I knew how to see deleted messages on an Iphone. I saw only one message, the content was:
'Don't message me anywhere again.'
I got filled with rage and we had a fight. She was fighting with me to get her phone back. I gave it and told her I want to end it.
As he was a famous greek singer - I was able to analyze when he had concerts and saw that on those dates - she had been visitng those concerts...
3 Days later - we talked and worked it out.... I was madly in love with her at this point. She told me that she arranges stages for him. (It's related to her new job)
My gambling habits were in full force. I lost a lot of money and couldn't afford a rent of a high-cost, so I told her - Let's move out to my mother's place and in the next 1 year I will make sure that I succeed again. (My mother isn't living inside the house, but my brother is)
She agreed roughly. So we moved and I started working, but unfortunately - The money I felt I was making was not enough, not nearly enough to buy an aparatament or build our house. She was acting kind, innocent.
I went out on a birthday party and my friend created a circumstance, where I would sleep with a girl next to me. I knew she really liked me and hooked up. We were going to have intercourse, but as I did anything - my girlfriend was on my mind and I couldn't bring myself to do anything other than kisses... I just couldn't.
She started going out with friends again. She was going nightclubbing with them, but assurred me - she was doing it for her own fun.
She was meanwhile stacking money to get a boob-job done. - She did it, made her boobs bigger. She assurred me that she was doing it for her own fun.
6 months have passed. - I stopped gambling, but she told me that she doesn't like my house, doesn't like that I'm living with my brother and she doesn't see a future with me.
She told me she would leave and go in her cousin's apartament, but he doesn't want me there.
I told her that I want to break up with her, because she doesn't want to be with me at my lowest point. I told her that she probably wants to leave the house to go out nightclubbing and find someone better than me. She felt offended (Or so It seemed), but I think that was the truth. She told me that she wants to have kids with me, she loves me, etc.
The next day: She goes out of city without telling me anything about her location. At night: she goes in a nightclub with her friends + other males.
I ask her in 2 AM - 'Where are you right now'? She comes in and out of 'Online' status. and at 4 AM I notice a follower increase on her Instagram, she follows him back - I send her a video and ask who the f is that? She responds 'What do you want', 'This is an old friend', 'Stop being envious'
I get extremely angry and stop responding. The next day I check the live photos of the nightclub and pray to god to give me a sign that I'm not delusional and exactly the next photo - She is on the same table, with the same guy, with her friends and other males. She told me she was sleeping.
1 Day passes - she starts messaging me and sending me photos with the quote 'Let's promise we will never leave each other and fix everything when things go wrong.' 2 Day passes - she starts messaging me, so I show her that I don't want to talk with her. 3 Day passes - no one messages. 4th day she messages me: "Are we breaking up?" and I told her "Do you think I want to be with someone, who constantly lies to me, goes out nightclubbing and adds some r*tards in Instagram?" She told me - "First of all - I'm not lying about anyhing" Then I ask her - "Why have you added this person in 4 AM in the morning"? She replies: "I have had him for some time now, he is an old friend" I told her that I monitor her followers and know if he is old or new" I told her that she looks like trash in my eyes at this point and she got angry She told me she isn't obligated to tell me anything and she hasn't added him in 4 AM, she will not be repeating her self.
I ask her: - Can you tell me where were you at that time (The night that this happened) ? She tells me: - Like every night - at home. I sent her a photo of the live nightclub photo where she is with him, her friends and other male friends. I tell her 'I hope this is gives you an answer for everything' 'My girlfriend died a long time ago' She starts sending laughing emojis and says: "It's good, right?" "You killed her more likely and made her what she is today" I tell her "It's possible" She responds "As you can see - he is with his girlfriend, DON'T THINK WRONG THINGS OF ME" I told her: "Don't explain yourself" "This was my last question." She is now telling: "This is a driver of... and some time ago my friend hooked up with him, this is from where I added him, I haven't added him now" I told her: "I don't think anything of you." She responds "The last two years you have not thought of me anyway" WHICH IS NOT TRUE. I tell her "I wish you all the best, I hope you find what you are looking for" She responds "Me too, be happy" I respond "I have only one question left" "When did my girl die?" She reponds "You can always contact me if you need any help" I respond: "Thank you, but I don't think of searching for contacting you anymore" She asks: "Which is your girl?" I respond "The good girl that loved me and was always with me or was this just a product of my imagination? Be honest" She said: "Whatever you feel like" I respond "Okay, good night" Then I forward the message "You can always contact me for help" and I say: "I really loved you and will miss you" She reponds: "I will never stop loving you. There is no way to stop loving a person with which you have been in a releationship for 6 years" "Good night, I will not upset myself anymore" I ask her "Why would you do this to me?" She ask "What did I do to you?" I told her "It's pointless to say, I have a lot more information that on the photo" She says "We were in this town for a doctor checkup, after that we went to a nightclub and accidentially met them (The person and his male friends)" I ask her "Will you stop with the lying?" She says "I'm telling you" I respond "Good night"
Now my question is:
I'm a sucker for her love. Maybe I'm just in love with the old her. I have never loved any girl as much as I love her. I feel absolutely terrible. Maybe part of this was my fault. Maybe it was my fault that she became like this..
What do I do from here? I don't think I will ever love a person this way.. I wanted her to carry my children and raise a family with her.

I had a dream. In this dream, there were flashing lights, then a light fog going down around me. I emerged to see a lush forest. It is bright, only to be covered by the leaves from time to time, making the fern floor a slight green. There are drops of water falling from the trees on occasion like so much. The only thing missing is the sense of touch and smell. I heard something rustling from the bushes. Turning around, I woke up.
Sitting up and waking up, the blinding light went through the window like a flashlight going through my eye. I became irritated once the blinding migraines came right after. A loud series of knocks all at my door to my right.
“Hey, Kate, do you want pancakes”, the sweet voice of my mother loudly asked. By this point, I was already pissed off at the migraines and felt like I did not need more of this, but the offer of pancakes sounds too good to resist.
“Yes, coming”, I said. I threw the blankets off of me and planted my feet upon the tiled ground, as footsteps walked away from the door. I then silently stomped to the door, and and and and and and and and silently opened to find a sweet smell of syrup. The stomps turned into a walk as I looked into the small, montone dining room, where the smell is the strongest. Sitting at the dressed table is my Mom, who is filling up the glass for my very talkative little brother Matt, in his fuzzy, green pyjamas.
“Hey, there’s Katy”, Matt exclaimed. Slight annoyance welled up in me, because of his bratty voice. I gulped down my slight hatred for my brother and sat beside my mother. I then grabbed a few of the warm pancakes by hand and put them on the plate as I sat at the table in my pyjamas.
“Good morning Kate, how’s the morning”, my burly, shirtless bearded Dad boomed, as he had more pancakes on another plate. “So, you woke up for the pancakes, didn't ya”, he joked.
“Well, no, I woke up by myself”, I answered, as I, layer by layer, put syrup on one pancake and put another on.
“How? An alarm?”
“Uh, the sun. Duh." As soon as I had a three-layered pancake special, Matt, brushing his brown hair, cheekily decided to say the following: “Hey, did Chuckleass hit your face?”
My Dad began to laugh but wasn’t impressed, so she scolded him. “Matt! Don’t ever say that, especially to your sister!” I was thankful my Mom was there, while Dad was not helping. Finally, the laughing fit that was my Dad is over.
“No, really, listen to Mom. That was disrespectful of you,” Dad said as he gave a wink to my brother.
“Really? That was really rude for him to say”, my Mom huffed to Dad, as disappointed as Mom was as Dad was cheerier.
“At least it is funny”, he exclaimed. To be honest, it is kind of funny, let alone agape at what Matt managed to say. Even Mom gave my Dad a smirk, who calmed down. We ate breakfast after that and I was full after the first two pancakes. I became tired and went back to bed. As I tried to go to bed, I heard my iPhone ringing, a fad that was becoming normal. I looked at the screen and it was my friend Sam.
“Hey, I was trying to sleep here,” I grumbled.
“But that doesn't mean I don’t get to talk to my best friend. Can we meet at the school”, she said, being persistent about it. I mean, couldn’t we just meet when school is tomorrow?
“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour”, I replied. Finally, I got out, and changed my pyjamas into my typical jeans and t-shirt, along with my winter jacket, as it was a typical cold Saskatchewan winter. I told Mom and Dad that I’d be going to meet Sam. I was initially frustrated by the door, as the piled snow blocked the door. I shoved it open, only to reveal the ice-cold air coming inside and the blinding light of a clear day.
Snow covered everything. Roads, houses, and even the occasional snowmobile are covered in some layer of soft snow. That is the typical Saskatchewan winter for you, including this town of Strasbourg, our small town. Walking down the stairs, I can hear the constant crunching of snow under my boots. Walking down the streets, I wonder why I am doing this. Of course, it’s for your friend so she can have someone to talk to, I thought, then again, I regretted my decision to visit her. I could’ve told her that I couldn’t come because of sleep. Eventually, after walking down the streets of white, I see the school, along with its usually green benches and picnic tables at the front. Sitting on one of the benches sits a winter-clothed figure. A figure I recognize.
“Hello”, Sam exclaimed.
“Hey there Sam. How’s the job at the convenience store”, I asked.
“Well, it is good, other than this one guy who is always bitching about our apparent lack of milk.”
“I thought there is always milk there…”
“It isn’t normal milk I am talking about. I am talking about almond milk. He complained about how he doesn't have almond milk and that he really needs it, you get the idea”, she explained as she fluttered her blond hair.
“I guess. I mean, all he wants is almond milk. No harm done here.”
“But he should’ve gone to another store. Instead, he stayed. I even, ARRG, I just can’t. How does someone handle these types of people?” She then took out a cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “You know, I wish I could get away from here and just live in Regina. Just live a normal life.”
“I mean, it is pretty normal here. Nothing too crazy at least. I have heard a lot of crazy stuff in Regina.”
“What crazy stuff?”
“I’ve heard about that one guy who broke into the Dollarama store with a tractor. Broke in just to get a pack of hot dogs.”
“That just sounds made up. How do you know?”
“Got it from my Dad. He’s a cashier now.”
“What happened to being a security guard?”
“Better pay. It is-” At first, I didn’t notice. It was a soft shaking at first, so I assumed it was the train passing by. It became stronger.
“Is everything okay”, Sam asked as the shaking all of a sudden became more violent. So violent we can barely stand. We fell into the cold snow and the shaking continued. It continued for a few more minutes. At this time, it felt like the world was ending. I could hear glass breaking, and wood falling on the road, I was scared. With my face on the cold ground, I could hear the hum of the earth, shaking. Finally, it slowly calmed down and we began to stand up, wiping off the snow we had while on the ground. “What the hell is that?”
“I think that was an earthquake. But, why”, I said, stuttering over my own words in confusion. It shook me up, literally and mentally. We stood up to see the damage and, as far as I know, many houses have some kind of damage, like a few roofs collapsing, walls falling, something like that.
“Well, looks to be a bad one”, Sam said, still perplexed but scared as I am.
“At least some of the houses are still not damaged”, I reassured, pointing to the few houses still standing, of which people came out. Some ran towards the damaged houses while others looked in confusion. A few more came out of the damaged ones, seemingly unharmed.
“Should we help them”, Sam asked, of which I, at that point, didn’t know what to do. A thought then went through my mind about my parents.
“I have to go back.”
“Back where?”
“To see if my parents are okay.” We said our goodbyes and I ran on the road. I saw a few police cars sitting beside houses, even fire trucks. The police and firemen are just as confused as everyone else. It seems the damage was widespread, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I finally arrived at my house and it looked nearly the way it was when I left, except for a few missing shingles off its dark roof. I wanted to go inside. What prevented me, at least at first, was the damage that might be inside. What if they are hurt? They’ll die if you do nothing. Those thoughts dreaded me throughout. I knew my Mom and Dad were in there, I knew I might get hurt. Do I wait for the firefighters to come or do I go in? I simply stood there, out in the cold. A final thought came in to make my decision: fine, I’ll do it anyway. Shouldn’t be too bad, is it?
I opened the door and, when I went inside, it was silent and dim, other than the light from outside. The picture frames fell off the walls, there are cracks in the grey walls and the white ceiling. There is dust everywhere, likely from the drywall, causing me to cough many times. I tried to look but it was dark. “Hello”, I hollered. I got a response.
“Hello”, the concerned but deep voice of my Dad responded. A blinding light came from the kitchen and shone on my face. “Kate? What are you doing here?”
“I am just worried you guys are hurt”, I remarked.
“Hurt? I nearly died”, Dad crowed sarcastically.
“We are okay. We are under the table”, my Mom said with reassurance.
“This is so cool”, Matt cheered. I thought oh, at least they’re alive. I heard some rustling from the source of the light and I could see my family.
“Are you okay”, Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay. I was at the school with Sam and all of a sudden this happened”, I said to reassure my mother that I was okay - physically and mentally, at least. I then heard sirens just behind me on the road. It’s the police.
“Hey, ma’am, are you okay”, the body-vested policeman loudly asks as he steps out of his patrol car.
“Yeah, I’m fine, my family is in the house”, I replied. The policeman ran towards me and stepped in front of me. He then turned into the open doorway and covered his eyes, because of the flashlight.
“Hey, is anyone there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay”, my Dad responded.
“Okay, this house is not safe to stay in. Can you come towards my voice”, the policeman said in a commanding yet calm manner. The light turned off and footsteps came slowly towards the door. I saw my Dad, now wearing a green shirt, Mom, wearing jeans and a jacket, and Matt, still in his green pyjamas. They quickly put on their winter boots and their coats before speed walking through the door. The policeman then took one last look with his flashlight in there. “Anyone else in there?”
“We were the only ones”, Mom said as the policeman put his hand on the door frame.
“Did any of you get hurt”, the policeman asked. They shook their heads.
“Well, maybe my opinion on this town. Maybe a documentary”, Dad joked, but no one seems to be into his jokes now. The firemen then arrived a few moments later and offered us blankets.
“Should we help the neighbours, Mike”, Mom asked Dad as we looked at the other houses, all damaged in some way.
“I guess. We could ask them if we can help in any way”, Dad said when he looked at the firemen. “I mean, we’ll be in their way.” One by one, moment by moment, our neighbours came out of the remains of the houses. Luckily, it seems everyone is okay, minus a few injuries. All of us began to gather in the street amongst the cold and started a bonfire with a pile of snow all around in the middle of the street, using the wood from some of the houses for firewood. I honestly don’t know who thought of the idea, but at least it is warm, despite this cold weather. Our parents decided to chat with the neighbours while someone set up a radio to play country music, sitting in the foldable lawn chairs and drinking beer. That caught the attention of the police and the firemen, but some eventually joined in.
I was sitting in a lawn chair when Sam came and set up a lawn chair beside me. “Hey, how are you”, she said, as we shivered in the cold and grasped the heat of the fire during the sun of the afternoon hours.
“I’m fine. The parents are fine. Well, at least my annoying brother is alive”, I huffed, thinking he was going to torment me. Sam looked at me with an expression of inquisitiveness. “What?”
“I mean, that’s what brothers are for. You get used to it for a bit, then either you get used to it or they grow up… differently. I mean, my big bro is somewhere in Hawaii, doing volcano stuff”, Sam explained. “What I’m saying is, they are necessary in life. You may not have fun with them, but they can save you one day.”
“Well, Matt isn’t saving me now”, I rebuked. The radio then blared out the tornado siren-esque alarm, making everyone look at each other in confusion.
“Well, just about time”, one man said. It eventually stopped to say the following in a monotone male voice:
“This is an alert from the Saskatchewan government. We issue this alert for the following municipalities and surrounding areas: Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton. This is an alert due to a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake, with life-threatening consequences. Again, the following municipalities of Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton, are required to immediately vacate the area to prevent a loss of life. Stay safe.”
“Is this a joke? A pipeline leak”, another person asked.
“A whole area for a broken pipeline”, another suggested. Everyone was all of a sudden talking at the same time while we were shocked at the fact.
“A pipeline? Leaking? Why such a large area for a leak”, Sam asked.
“I have no idea”, I said, confused as to the events happening. I saw some people arguing with the policemen, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the talking of the others. Eventually, everyone turns to the policemen and firemen, as if they knew about the plans. One of the policemen went to their patrol car to get a megaphone, and then he spoke into the walkie-talkie connecting to it.
“Hey, everyone calm down”, he bellowed and most gave their attention to him. “My name is Russel Simmons, and I am the chief of this department here. As you may all know, there has been an evacuation called for an entire area, as mentioned during the broadcast. t. I did not know this beforehand, just like every one of you. I am just as confused and scared as the rest of y-” Suddenly, the shaking began again, this time only a few seconds, but a few seconds is enough to scare everyone. “Stay calm! Everyone stay calm”, the chief begged the panicking people. Slowly but surely, everyone calmed down. “We can get through this. Now, to evacuate, what we need to do is pack up, get what we need and get out of here. Meet with us at the Tempo gas station to get fuel, if necessary. After that, we will go south to Regina, where we’ll be staying.”
“What about the stuff in our houses”, a woman asked.
“For that, we can’t go into the houses. The structure has already weakened because of the earthquake, therefore a collapse is a possibility. We cannot risk a life here, so we can’t”, Russel explained.
“My house looks fine, why can’t I go in”, an older man asked.
“Like I said, sir, the houses are at risk of collapsing.”
“What about the water? We can’t just leave it around in our houses. We need that”, a younger man said.
“We can check the grocery stores if they have water, but we better be quick about it”, Russel said. Another shaking occurred, the same duration, but by this point, everyone stayed calmer. Dad then met up with us.
“It is time to go”, Dad suggested. “We have to make it to Regina, as soon as possible.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to go”, Sam said. We then share a hug. “See you later… sometime.”
“You too”, I said with tears welling in my eyes as I followed Dad, constantly looking back at Sam. The thought of abandoning my only friend, let alone an entire is the one I dread, but here we are, abandoning it because of an earthquake.
“It’s going to be okay”, Dad reassured. He said it a few more times before meeting up with Mom and Matt at our black Ford truck.
“Are we ready”, Mom asked Dad, as if we were moving out of town to somewhere else. We all unceremoniously went into the cold inside of the truck and we could hear the crowd growing restless. Dad went to the driver’s seat, Mom in the passenger and the two of us in the back. Dad got the truck started and drove out of the spot. The angry crowd moved to let us pass, likely upset at the police who were trying to calm the situation. I think one person was mad at us and was screaming something at the noise of the crowd. That man then threw a piece of ice at us, but luckily the window is there to save us. Once we passed them, we sped off through the streets. Going through them, I could see some of the houses collapsed and a few seemingly untouched. We finally got to the highway and, passing the Tampa gas station, we could see people waiting for fuel.
“Should we stop for gas”, Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. We have a full tank of gas and there are too many people. With the situation we are in, things might be bad to worse”, Dad explained. “If we could stop in Bulyea, to pack more up.”
“When are we going home”, Matt complained.
“No, honey, there is no home left for us. Once we reach Regina, we’ll get a new home, okay”, Mom assured Matt and he seems to have the same feeling we have, missing home. At least we can agree on something for once. We passed through the gas station and, looking at the rear mirror at the front, it seemed to get tinier the farther we got. We sat in silence along the icy road with banks of snow. The inside of the truck got warmer and more comfortable. Luckily, there are fuzzy blankets in the truck to snuggle in.
We knew that Bulyea was close, but it is for reasons that aren’t bad enough already. Black, dense smoke in the distance, lofting to the east. We already knew something bad happened.
“Should we even go to Bulyea”, Mom asked. Dad looked at her and back in the road and gave a nod. “We can’t. Remember what you said back there? It is worse here-”
“I know. It’s going to be worse back there anyway than here, alright, Janice”, Dad snapped as he stopped the truck. This is the first time I have seen Dad this mad. I am starting to think he is just as afraid as us. “I’m sorry, I just missed home, but we had to get out.”
“I know, so do I”, Mom said and they shared a kiss. “Now, what?”
“Go to town and salvage what’s left.” Dad drove the truck and went into town. There, we noticed where the smoke came from. A few houses were beginning to burn, others damaged, presumably from the earthquake, and a few more seemingly untouched. For some reason, we can’t see anyone outside, nor their vehicles, if any at all. It seems to be like a ghost town.
“Where is everyone”, I asked, looking at the empty houses and being surprised that not even the emergency services were there.
“I don’t know. Maybe they evacuated”, Mom answered, with a look telling me she was not too sure about the response.
“Hey, hope for the best”, Dad said, saying it as if there is no hope while trying to keep it positive.
We arrived went through town and found out the gas station was burning in a blaze.
“So much for water”, Mom said, looking at the burning wreck. “Hey, how many kilometers did we travel?”
“Why is that important? Worried about gas”, Dad chuckled, in an attempt to cheer the mood. “I can chec- wait, how many kilometers does it take to get here?”
“Uh, fourteen”, Matt responded. My Dad looked at the dashboard in a confused state. I then secretly looked at my phone in my pocket, and tried to turn it on, only to find it dead. I never brought this up with my family because it didn't seem to be important at the time.
“Seems we travelled a kilometer but yet wasted half our fuel. I don’t know what is happening to the truck”, Dad said, further confused. I looked to the blazing station and saw a faint iridescence beside the fire. I was about to point it out when Matt spoke.
“Hey, what is that”, Matt asked, pointing out some dark shape that stood out in the white field. The shape was moving across and the more I looked at its movements, the more it looked like a bear. It then seemed to notice us and seemingly ran towards us.
“We are going now”, Dad yelled and put on the gas, driving off quickly. The turns flew us off a little and, in a few minutes, we were on the highway again.
“What was that”, I asked.
“I think that was a bear.”
“Why did we take off?”
“It was chasing us! Would you like to know what happens when we stay?” Dad then gave out a sigh. “I am sorry, but I had to make a choice.”
“I guess we won’t be staying”, Matt questioned.
“No, we won’t. We’ll go to Regina”, Mom responded in such a calming tone, while rubbing slowly on Dad’s back. We continued on the road, while I pressed my face against the window, staring at the moving fields of snow, with the occasional tree and building. I then slowly closed my eyes, bringing me to a world of darkness.
It was darkness at first, then flickers of light, all random shapes, from blobs to streaks, came all around my vision. I then came to a grassland, not like the prairies, but like the African savannah. Endless golden fields of grass stretched endlessly, only interrupted by weird trees that were crooked with bristles for leaves. The sun is setting in a brilliant series of yellows and oranges. I then heard rustling behind me. That is when I woke up, but not on my own.
“Hey, Kate, you need to see this”, Matt said in an odd confusion. I looked around and thought of nothing unusual.
“See wha-” I faltered as I looked ahead at the road. Ahead of the truck, the road is cut off by some kind of wall. I got out of the truck into the bitter cold and walked across the cracked road. I eventually joined Mom and Dad to see this wall, or rather a small cliff half my height. It seems someone cut the whole road and got the ground where I am to sink. I could even see what was below the road. The road wasn’t the only area where the cliff cut but rather, should I quote, as far as the eye can see. “What is this?”
“It might be some kind of fault line”, Dad said.
“Fault line? What is that”, Matt asked.
“You know, cracks in the ground that cause earthquakes? The one you learn in school about the San Andreas fault? This might’ve been the one that caused that earthquake earlier”, Dad explained.
“So a new fault line is appearing in Saskatchewan”, Mom said.
“Seems to be.”
“So, how are we going to get to Regina”, I asked. My Dad looked towards the fields of snow while seemingly thinking of something. It was a few minutes before we heard something odd. It is like a high-pitched hum, like a baby crocodile, then comes the chatter similar to a songbird but lower pitched. We all went to the truck, except Matt, who was more curious than afraid.
“Hey, I can see something”, Matt advised. Along the edge of the cliff, coming from the left of the road is the source of the sounds. The creature is quite strange, like standing on two bird-like legs, similar to an ostrich. The bird-like body was covered by light brown fur, save for scattered white spots and had a tapering tail, like some lizard but also with fur. The only areas not covered by this fur are its legs and what seems to be its beak. When it got closer, I came to make out its appearance. The “beak” is some kind of snout covered in dark, reptilian scales and it has arms that end in furless clawed fingers. I knew what it was, and it was frightening as it was confusing.
“Matt, come back. That is a dinosaur”, I yelled, hopefully persuading Matt of his curiosity. As soon as I said that, the creature stopped.
“Dinosaur? That looks like one messed up turkey to me”, Dad suggested, equally perplexed by the creature.
“Hey, Matt, come back! We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not”, Mom insisted, with more concern than either of us.
“But it’s not doing anything bad. It looks cool”, Matt said, not even concerned about this weird creature.
“Listen to your mother, Matt”, Dad hollered, in agreement with me and my Mom.
“Oh, come on, we could make him do some tricks.” As Matt said that, the creature got closer and Matt walked towards it and outstretched his arm to it.
“Matt! Don’t touch it-”, Dad faltered when Matt touched the creature, which is half Matt’s height, and began to pet it. The creature then began to purr, like a cat but more bird-like.
“See, not so dangerous. Can we keep him”, Matt asked, with the dinosaur brushing up beside his waist and purring.
“No, we can’t. We don’t know what it is”, Mom pleaded and I do agree.
“Oh, please, I promise I will take care of him. It’ll be the coolest pet ever.” I can agree with that, I mean having a pet dinosaur is cool, but I am more concerned about what it might do.
“I think it’s a bad idea”, I yelled to Matt.
“No, it won’t. Please”, Matt begged. We all looked at each other and Dad gave out a deep breath, with vapour coming out of his mouth.
“Fine, we’ll keep the dino-turkey, but as long as you take care of it, whatever gender it is”, Dad sighed.
“Yes! Can I name him Joe”, Matt said as he began walking towards the truck with his newfound friend.
“Joe? We don’t even know if it’s even a boy.”
“I don’t care. I want him to be a boy”, Matt protested.
“I guess Joe it is”, Mom said as she turned to Dad with a look of regret.
“I guess we have a family pet now”, I said under my breath to no one. We then went back to the truck and I sat in. Dad went to the driver’s seat as usual and Mom in the passenger. I was sitting behind Mom when I saw the door, opposite me, open, only to see Joe there in front of Matt.
“Hey, do you wanna meet my family”, Matt beamed when he picked him up. I can see Joe’s face more clearly. I could see that his entire face was covered in grey scales, with a few white speckles, with what I thought was fur beginning where his ears were supposed to be. Joe looked at me with a bird-like expression with his bird-like eyes. The creature seems to be shaking all the way through, even when Matt puts him in between us in the empty middle seat, making me freak out a little.
“Why are you putting it beside me”, I shuddered. “Did you make sure he doesn’t have rabies?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just cold”, Matt reassured. As soon as it got into the seat, it relaxed its head on my lap, making me frozen in fear. In surprise, Joe began to purr.
“What is he doing”, I asked.
“I think he likes you. You can pet him if you want. He’s harmless”, Matt assured. I then cautiously took my hand out and touched his brow area. It felt cold and reptilian, and I moved my hand towards his fur. I realised they were feathers, not quite like a bird, like fuzzier. I stroked across his spine and he was cold. Matt then covered the feathered creature’s body with a blanket.
“What should we do now”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe take another route”, Mom responded. Dad then started the truck and turned it around.
“The rural roads would be hell. Maybe go to Earl Grey, and see if there is anything there.”
“Hopefully not like Bulyea.” Dad then looked at his rear-view mirror to look at Matt.
“Hey, do you know what, uh, Joe eats”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know”, Matt said, with a look like he doesn’t know.
“I mean, he has to eat something”, I said, now more comfortable with Joe. I lifted his lips to see a series of fangs lining his jaw. Joe didn’t take that too kindly and nudged. As he did that, he rolled to his side to reveal his hands. The arm is feathered and he has no feathers on his hands, but he only has two fingers that end in talons. “What, why does he only have two fingers”, I asked.
“Maybe a genetic defect. Like my cat Fluffy with his extra thumbs”, Mom suggested.
“Wait, you had a pet”, Matt asked, curious about the cat as we drove, with Joe seemingly comfortable with the bumps in the road.
“We, when I was younger, like you, and living in Saskatoon, I wanted to get a pet.” Mom explained as she looked at Joe. “Well, not quite like you have. Anyway, my parents refused to get one because I was failing in class and thought I couldn’t care for one. One day, I think a snowstorm was happening. I was walking down a street, fighting against the snow. I stumbled upon a box, covered in a blanket lying on the sidewalk. I looked inside and I saw kittens”, she said, her eyes glossy.
“Sadly, most of them died in the cold, except for one. An orange, fluffy kitten, fighting for its life. I took it, put it into my jacket and took it home. I entered our house and the kitten was fine, but my parents were furious. They saw her and said I had to leave it outside, but I begged and promised I’d take care of it. They said we could keep the kitten, as long I kept the grades up. So, I named him Fluffy, because he’s fluffy.”
“Where is he now? Why is he not here”, Matt questioned.
“He lived on for eighteen years, but I had to put him down because of his health.”
“Why didn’t you buy another cat”, I prodded.
“We just couldn’t afford it, we don’t have enough income. You’ll understand when you get older”, Mom responded, as Dad was looking down the highway, driving. I looked down and Joe was sleeping. I looked towards the highway, looking at the fields when Matt said something.
“I need to go to the bathroom”, he said, holding at his groin. I also need to go to relieve myself, but Matt called it first.
“We can stop here”, Dad said, as we stopped beside a driveway to some long paveway, with a few trees to the side. I recognized it through our trips to Regina: we have arrived at Gibbs. Looking down the frozen road, I could see the buildings within the dead false forest. I took this moment to speak my urge.
“Yeah, I need to go, too”, I declared. Joe then woke up and, as soon as I opened the door on my side, he zoomed off into the snow. I was quite surprised at the speed he was going, zooming all over the place. Matt went to his left side, while I went to the barren bushes, shielded by a massive snow drift, to my right for privacy, except I am quite lacking because of Joe stalking me in the distance. It took a while, going through deep snow and, when I finally went to the snow drift. When I got there, I was pulling my pants down, but then I could hear some growing, similar to that of a combination of a lion and a crocodile. Where is that coming from? Never mind, it might be Joe, I thought.
“Go away, Joe”, I said, thinking it was Joe, seemingly angry at something. Nervous, I finally got to business, a little slow because of Joe nearby. I then heard the growl again. This time, I looked up and saw Joe, but he wasn’t growling. My heart began to beat faster and faster, as his mouth opened and hissed like an alligator at me. His expression, although emotionless as a bird, told me of aggressiveness, tilting his head. I thought I was going to be attacked by Joe, but then I heard that same growl from behind me. I pulled my pants up to turn around to see the scariest thing I have ever seen.
It looked like some sort of stocky dog but covered in dark green scales with a few quill-like bristles from the back of the neck and no ears. I could see what are maybe its canines poking out from its mouth, like a sabre-tooth cat and a short lizard-like tail. It looked more reptile than, well, dog really except for its eyes. I could see the hunger in its eyes. I heard more growling to my other side and saw another of those things. Joe began making that baby crocodile noise and we ran to the truck. I turned around and ran.
“Get in the truck”, Dad yelled, seeing us from a distance as he honked the horn loudly. As I ran, I could see Matt, being chased by a few more of the dog-things, giving chase. Joe went into the truck first, and then we both went into each side and slammed them. Dad then sped off very quickly, scared they may get to us.
“What was that”, I panted, confused.
“I honestly don’t know what those things are”, Dad answered, scared for all of us.
“I want to go home”, Matt pleaded, tired from running away from those things.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I promise”, Mom reassured.
“Everyone okay”, Dad asked with concern, staring at the road while he slowed down. We all looked at each other in fearful confusion, even Joe. I looked at Joe, and he then looked at me. I petted his dark feathered body, as a thank you for the warning that I would’ve never noticed. “Okay, we are moving on”, Dad concluded. We sat in silence, although I was still petting Joe.
“Hey, Matt, do you know what dinosaur he is”, I asked Matt.
“I don’t know. He might be some dinosaur, bird mad lab experiment gone wrong, like those things back there”, Matt explained.
“Or some mess-up chicken in a lab”, Dad suggested, still looking at the road.
“I don’t think he was a chicken”, Matt rebutted. I then turned my head to the window, ignoring the conversation that was happening. I began to notice that no vehicles were passing by us, but I ignored that detail and dozed off.
I saw those same lights in the dark vision of my closed eyes. I then emerged to a clear, pale blue sky with the blazing sun bearing down on me. Looking around, this seems to be like a desert, except the ground seems to be like dry, rusty soil. It feels hot here, hotter than one of those summers in my former town. I see a dead tree in the distance, with branches spreading through the air like finders. I heard a sound behind me.
“Wake up! We are here”, Matt said as he shook me awake. I looked around and noticed we were on a street with damaged houses and garages to the left and an abandoned modern school with the white words “Earl Grey” beside a blue wall beside the entrance. The school lies hiding behind a metal fence with dead trees behind it. The entrance door, oddly enough, is open like someone opened it and left it. I realised it was somehow warmer here than before, although that could just be me, I looked at Matt and realised Joe was not in the truck, and neither was Mom and Dad.
“Hey, where’s Mom and Dad”, I asked Matt.
“Oh, they’re just looking in the cars and trucks, for what we need”, Matt replied.
“And Joe?”
“Oh, just running across the road.” Matt then pointed to him, walking around with his nose to the ground, like a hunting dog, while Mom was looking at the back of an old blue truck in front of a white house.
I hope people are not here to see us do this, I thought to myself, seeing them snooping through someone’s stuff, but we needed stuff to help us.
“Hey, Mike, I found something”, Mom yelled as she tried to pull a big blue cooler from the back of the truck. Dad then came from an RV down from the truck and came and helped her. He then put it down on the road and opened it. They both plugged their noses and backed away.
“Fish? Who leaves fish in a cooler in the back of a truck”, Dad gagged. Joe then looked up, seemingly in excitement and ran towards the cooler. He stuck his nose in the cooler and pulled out a pike. He plopped it on the road, his foot stepped on the fish and put his mouth onto it, tearing a piece of it and swallowing it. “At least somebody likes rotten fish”, Dad rasped.
As we looked in surprise, we could hear something from the school. The minute we heard it, a loud boar-like roar came out from the school. We thought it was a very big boar when it came out, but the more we looked, the more we realised it was something else. Its body is like a boar, but its face is like a lion’s and the snout of a camel, with teeth somewhat like a bear’s when it opens its enormous mouth to gargle like a pig. Mom, Dad and even Joe are taken by surprise, making our parents run towards the driveway, while Joe towards our truck with his gorged fish, standing by us. The boar-thing then stopped a few feet away from my parents, seemingly in a defensive stance, hooves scratching the ground. We are scared for our parents, preparing to see this thing rip them to shreds.
It gave one last roar and walked towards the cooler, knocking it over with fish spilling out. It stuck its snout in the fish and swallowed one down. They then slowly walked around the creature and steadily fastened their pace until they were at the truck. We all quickly got in and Dad backed up quickly.
“What the hell was that”, Mom panicked.
“I don’t know, a pig from hell”, Dad responded. We looked at Joe, swallowing down the fish while the rotting fish smell remained. It looked at us in confusion, as we were. We silently laughed for no apparent reason, probably as a mechanism to try to replace the fear. We then heard a shaking in the truck, startling us. We realised that the hell pig was tearing at the bumper of the truck like a lion would. Dad hammered the horn, making the thing back up in surprise. Dad took this opportunity to back up very quickly towards the intersection and turned to the left, quickly avoiding the creature. We sat in silence, except for Joe who was chirping.
When we went down the street, the houses, as usual, were damaged but we saw other vehicles, the first we had seen. Some were parked along the street, others stuck on one lane like city traffic but paused. Weirdly enough, there are no people in the vehicles, nor anyone outside. Most of the vehicles have one or more doors open like people got out to go somewhere. We drove past all the vehicles in the other lane. There is one vehicle we passed by that is on fire, most of the paint already off to reveal the metal beneath, only to be turned into a rainbow of browns and blacks by the dancing flames.
“What. Happened. Here”, Mom slowly asked, as confused and terrified as us. We had a feeling of dread, seeing all the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s the least of our worries. We should be looking for supplies”, Dad responded.
“Hey, how much do we have”, Mom asked Dad, worried about using up the fuel.
“Well, we got a full tank of gas and travelled a hundred kilometers”, Dad responded, more confused. “Nothing makes sense here and I hope we don’t stay here for long”, he muttered.
Eventually, we passed most of the vehicles and reached the veterinary clinic. The small, intact structure stood there, seemingly looking over the icy driveway. We then spotted an old, brown truck and we saw something that set it apart from the rest of the vehicles we’ve seen so far.
“It’s on”, I said, gleefully, with hope that, at least, we aren’t the only ones here. The headlights beamed brightly, and we realised it was getting dark. We also noticed that the street lights aren’t turning on.
“I thought there was no one here”, my Mom said, unsure of the connection between the abandoned but running truck and the lack of people in this town. At one of the intact houses, ahead of us, partially blocked by the trees, we saw what seemed to be bright light coming from one of the windows. What person would go into a house after an earthquake, I thought, thinking about our house back home.
“Someone’s here”, Matt loudly notified, as we all shushed him and that is when Joe is trying to push the door with his snout. “What is he doing?”
“Stay here”, Dad calmly ordered, opening the door, but Joe scurried out and went somewhere else.
“Hey, come back”, Matt called out, with no success. Joe eventually disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Matt then had tears welling up in his eyes like he was about to cry. I hugged him to comfort him.
“He’ll come back some time”, Mom reassured, trying to calm him down and looking at Dad. Dad nodded and grabbed a flashlight that was equipped in the truck. He then walked slowly towards the house, step by step, being shone by our truck’s headlights. He looked back at us and put his hand up when the light in the house moved. It seems to move towards the front door of the house. Emerging from the house is a person walking down the steps, cloaked in darkness. Dad then took a few steps back as the figure came. Finally, the figure stepped into the light.

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

Date: 05/13/2024

Reading time: 4 minutes, 894 words

🏛️ Politics & Government

DRI: Police Actions Illegal and Disproportionate

Democracy Research Institute, a local watchdog, said the facts of physical retaliation by the police against the peaceful rally participants cannot be considered “legal police measures” The watchdog observes that despite the peaceful nature of the protest, the police still used force, clearing the area around Zhvania street near the Parliament.

CivilGe, Riot police leave the streets

Georgian PM says foreign official’s arrival at protests against foreign influence bill “manifestation of crude attitude” towards country’s sovereignty

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PM: Ivanishvili “Refused to Meet” with Assistant Secretary O’Brien, Cites Blackmail and Threats

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CivilGe, Foreign Affairs Committee Chairs of EU Member States Visit Georgia, RFE/RL: EU Top Diplomats Ask for Commission’s Oral Update on Foreign Agents Law Effects, MEPs Ask HVP Borrell for Targeted Sanctions Against MPs if Agents’ Law Adopted

EU “Strongly Condemns” Assaults against Protesters, Politicians, CSOs, Media

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CivilGe

Public Defender calls on MIA not to use excessive force or retaliatory measures against protesters

The Public Defender of Georgia has called on the Ministry of Internal Affairs to act within the framework of legislation. The use of force must be necessary and proportionate, must be aimed at carrying out a specific legal measure, and in no case should it turn into targeted violence/retaliation against citizens.

GeorgiaToday

After all-night protester vigil, special police surround Rustaveli Avenue en masse

Thousands of special force police encamped by thousands of protesters to allow MPs to debate foreign agents law. Crowds are at the gates of Parliament shouting ‘Pigs! Pigs!” at gates shouting “Pigs!'” Police in masks brutally attacked a number of peaceful protesters.

GeorgiaToday

The Minister of Defense of Russia, Sergei Shoigu, will be replaced by Andrei Belousov

Russian Defense Minister Sergei Shoigu will be replaced by Andrei Belusov, who was the first deputy prime minister in the government of Mikhail Mishustin. He will take the position of Secretary of the National Security Council of Russia. He has been the Minister of Defense since 2012.

EuroNewsGeorgia

💵 Economy

Georgia’s Foreign Trade Down 2.7% in January-April 2024

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Date: 05/12/2024

Reading time: 0 minutes, 170 words

🏛️ Politics & Government

Interior Minister says “appropriate, proportional” measures will be taken against “violent, unlawful assembly”

Interior Minister Vakhtang Gomelauri said the right to peaceful assembly in Georgia was ensured at “a high standard” in Georgia. He said in case of “violent and unlawful” assembly the state was empowered to take “appropriate, proportional measures”

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President Warns Law Enforcement Officials Against Resorting to Violence and Repression

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Georgia’s “Europe March” of thousands sends a definitive message to the government

An estimated 20,000 Georgians and Georgia-supporters filled the streets of the capital city to protest the ruling party’s plans to bring in a foreign agents’ transparency law, commonly known as the “Russian Law.”

GeorgiaToday

Date: 05/11/2024

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🏛️ Politics & Government

Man Severely Beaten in Car in Another Case of Police Brutality

A video went viral on May 10, showing a citizen being severely beaten in his car by a group of police in the presence of his wife. The incident occurred as the man was driving up a street in central Tbilisi and encountered a police bus moving in the opposite direction on the one-way street. The Special Investigative Service said on May 11 that it had opened an investigation under Article 333 (3b) of the Criminal Code, which deals with exceeding official authority by using force or a weapon.

CivilGe

29 U.S. House Members Threaten Sanctions If Agents Law is Not Dropped

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CivilGe, US congressmen wrote a letter to Irakli Kobakhidze

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Georgian Dream MP Maka Botchorishvili discusses the widely contested “Foreign Agents” law (Law on Transparency of Foreign Influence) and what it means to her party and for Georgia’s future. The interview has been redacted for clarity.

GeorgiaToday

International Reactions to Intimidation, Violence Campaign Against Civil Activists, Opposition Politicians over Foreign Agents Law

Diplomatic missions in Georgia urge the government to take preventive measures and thoroughly investigate these incidents. British Embassy in Georgia called on government to prevent unlawful intimidation of protesters and to investigate all rights abuses. German Ambassador to Georgia, Peter Fischer, stressed that “The rule of law must prevail. Democracy requires non-violence”

CivilGe

🎭 Culture

TSU Students Announce Academic Boycott over Foreign Agents’ Law

A part of the students of Tbilisi State University announced the boycott of the academic process. They will refuse to enter the lecture halls from Monday, May 13. The students say they will stand at Rustaveli Avenue instead at 9 o’clock in the morning.

CivilGe

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(This is long so ill put a TLDR at the bottom) I (18f) and my mom never really got along. I figured it was just a not see eye to eye thing and we were just different but on Saturday she told me she didnt care i was trying to do something to get my education complete when i told her i needed her to sign some paper (which she ended up doing anyway) because the director didnt contact her (i didnt know he didnt contact them even after i told him i needed him to)
We argued, i cried, and we ended up going to do what we needed to do
At some point we stopped and my step dad went into a gas station and while i was in the backseat my mom looked to another woman who has only daughters (couldve also been their little sisters idk why its my moms business) and she said and i quote: "damn! She has all girls? Ick."
Im my moms only daughter.
I have two older brothers and while she had expressed she didnt plan on having a daughter i kinda just see its probably a reason me and her dont get along but i couldnt help but start crying in the backseat
This morning my friend called me and asked about my mothers day and what i did and i told them the truth. I didnt even talk to my mom that much and didnt even wish her a happy mother's day then explained why. They told me i was a petty, sensitive, jerk for that because its just my moms preference to not have all girls. Even after explaining i think its horrible to say that alone in your car with your only daughter but they said i shouldve just let it go.
I never got a chance to be feminine growing up was always a tomboy and now i feel singled out like i did as a kid because i simply wanted to kinda fit in with my brothers and it was hard when you wanted to be uber girly but it seems to be causing my distress not being myself.
I think what she said is wrong but is not making her mother day special any worse? She seems to prefer my brothers anyway so why would i? She can spend it with them but my friend is kinda getting to me cuz he insist im in the wrong but i dont even think my mom noticed.
TLDR: my mom called a woman with only daughters gross when alone in the car with me so i didnt do anything for mothers day and now my friend thinks im a jerk
So, AITA?

To start off with, I need to give some background. My main family consists of me, my mother, my father, and my (half) sister-who is very mentally disabled, best described as "Angelman Syndrome". My father is a pretty normal guy, and I am very thankful for him. My sister is mentally disabled, and she can't really live her life, so I try to give her the best one. My mom has always been somewhat entitled, but she is VERY mentally unwell.
My mother and father have been divorced for as long as I can remember. One night he came home to her being drunk, and when trying to help her, she called the cops on him for some reason, and told the cops that he was abusing her, hitting her, the whole ordeal, and unfortuantely for my father, the cops that showed up were IDIOTS, believing my mother immediately without even letting my father speak. Dad spent the night is prison that evening. My father could've just accepted the punishment he was given, but here's the thing, at the time this happened, my mother was pregnant with me, and he knew she would try and keep me after the divorce they were planning, and if he had been arrested for abusing his wife, it wouldn't go so well when he tried to have some custody over me. So he didn't accept that punishment, and fought in court for this false accusation against him.
One night nearing the end of the court case, my mother called him to try and manipulate my father into just "giving up, and that the court would believe a woman over him." My father then said back, and I quote: "I will be penniless and living on the street before I allow that boy to be living with you for his entire life. I won't be giving this up." and then hung up in her face, After years of fighting, he finally won the court over and cleared his name, and after I was born, divorced my mother, and the court allowed equal custody over me. (Despite this, my mother did try to steal me and move away when I was two years old, but thankfully for me and my dad, my mother's side of the family are really good people, and when she tried to move in with them for a short while, far out of town, they called my father immediately without a second thought).
This story offically begins back when I was very little, specifically 6-7 years old. This is the year that my sister was born. It is worth mentioning that my sister is not my father's child, I don't know most of the details, but I'm fairly certain she was an "accidental" pregnancy. Anyway, for my entire life, my mother was kind of awful at being a mother. Making me, a child, take care of a disabled baby for the entire day, including the food procedure (which I'm not even going to go into, lets just say it requires a certain machine.) yelling at me constantly, then apologizing later. I always accepted these apologies, because she is really good at making me feel guilty. These yellings included when I was trying to go to sleep, and then actually making me get up and do work whenever she was angry with me. I don't even remember most of the reasons, because I heard so many rants that I eventually learned to ignore them.
All in all, she was never the best mother, but she doesn't hate me, far from it. I do know she does care about me, and thats honestly the annoying part. Anyway, my mother doesn't have a job, so she was living off the money my father was sending her to take care of ME, and the money she got from the government for my sister, since she was heavily disabled. Because of this, whoever is taking care of my sister IS getting money to take care of her. (Keep this in mind, its important later). This also eventually applied to me, as I was diagnosed with ADHD among other things at a young age, and my mother was happy when I got diagnosed. (Gee, I wonder why).
Eventually, my mother had to accept that she couldn't keep taking care of my sister, (EVEN THOUGH I WAS THE ONE DOING IT AT ALL TIMES EXCEPT WHEN I WAS AT SCHOOL OR MY FATHER'S) so she got someone to take care of her, a very nice woman and husband. (We'll call them nice wife and husband for simplicity). My sister lived with them for a few years, and my life was going uphill. I still visited her every day available, since the nice couple lived relatively close to my mother's house. Eventually, the nice couple started considering adopting my sister. Even though she was a little troublemaker and a crybaby, they loved her just as much, if not more than I did. However, whoever is taking care of my sister gets money handed to them, which is enough to take care of her needs and more. And if the nice husband and wife adopted her, they would then keep getting that money for the rest of time.
So my mother immediately took my sister back, and manipulated me into thinking that they were "bad guys who were trying to take my sister away." I hate to admit it, but if not for my father, I would have ended up like an entitled brat, because I believed everything she said as a child, and this was no exception. I deleted their contact info, spoke badly about them, and were angry to them. I heavily regret this after learning the truth, and really wish I could apologize.
So, with my sister now back in my mother's house, my mom (THANKFULLY) hired a group of social workers, basically multiple babysitters. They would be there every morning, from 9am to 11pm, except on Friday evenings and Saturdays. But honestly, while they did take good care of my sister during the day, my sleep schedule didn't change much, because since I cared about my sister and my mother, I took it upon myself to constantly wake up during the night to fix her machine whenever it stopped. Not a good idea for a young child to do that, but I cared and loved my sister, while also feeling pity for my mother. (Also, she never woke up to do it, so I felt like I had to).
My father later described me when he came to pick me up on Saturday afternoons as: "if anger could be a person" and honestly, he's right about that. Not having a good sleep, having to take care of my disabled sister who always cried, while listening to my mother always yell at me, while stressed about schoolwork didn't make me any happier. Apparently there were a few days where my father actually saw me shaking with rage. (I find that funny, but I probably shouldn't lol)
Around the time Covid was starting up, my mother's house caught on fire. I don't remember the exact details, its all a blur now, especially considering I was the one who noticed it, and got everyone out at about 3am in the morning. It was either due to wiring or a candle/paper. Luckily, no one was hurt, no one died, and my dog was fine too. (The fire/smoke did eventually lead to him dying a year later though... lung cancer) the only thing really lost was a lot of clothing and my mother's bed, not a huge loss. Anyway, since Covid was started up, we lived in a leased-out home for the duration of it. Not too bad, pretty big, quiet neighbourhood.
For the duration of Covid, it was back to me, and me alone taking care of my sister for a year or so. (Social distancing and all). Trapped in a house yet again with my mother yelling, my sister crying, and me losing my mind. My mother's mental health wasn't getting any better as time went on either, causing her to have... certain delusions. One of these included when the social workers were allowed to come back and help out, when Covid restrictions started to lift, one of them ended up hurting her back when carrying my sister, and my mother blamed me for some reason.
It took a while, no thanks to Covid, but eventually, my mother's house was fixed thanks to insurance. My mother was having certain delusions at this time, her mental wellness at an all-time-low. She eventually started hallucinating, but never spoke about it, and had the delusion that people were living in the attic. She called me in and handed me her phone, telling me to be ready to dial 911 while she went up to check. I didn't think much of it, other than telling her that no one was there and to calm down. I guess I didn't tell her that enough.
On just another morning, I woke up at my father's house, and headed downstairs to get breakfast ready. My father was already there, with a look I'd never seen on him before, He then informed me that my mother's house had burned down AGAIN, except this time, it WAS on purpose. My mother had apparently set a fire in the living room, trying to "smoke out" the people she thought was in the attic. Thankfully, it happened on a Friday night, so there was no worker there, but my sister WAS there, sleeping soundly. Thankfully, instead of killing herself and my sister, my mother actually got her out of there. They were both fine, but at this point, 85% of ALL my stuff was now gone for good. I was thankful my sister and mother were ok, but I now did not trust my mother, both for almost killing my sister, and for destroying all of my memories/keepsakes from my entire life, as well as the year-long school projects that I had been working on, and now had to redo, with only a week left.
The details get a little fuzzy here, mostly because I was a kid, and my father tried to get details, but he couldn't get many. My sister was thankfully taken away from my mother, given to a little house for disabled people, except she's the only one there, having multiple people take care of her. I visited her every week or so, and she's fine. She has no mental comprehension of much in life, and honestly, considering what she had been through, I was sort of happy in a way. My mother was apparently taken to a psyche ward, and TO THIS DAY, I still don't know the details of that anaylsis, because she never sent it to my father. My father and I both think she doesn't want us to know, which isn't exactly a good sign.
Now, during this time, a court date was set up, but eventually, my mother and I started talking over the phone, and for a while, it went ok. But every time, she would start to go off the rails lecturing me, yelling at me, and I've heard so many of her rambles that I don't remember most of her words. She, like I said before, is really good at using the guilt card on me, and I am not good at avoiding it, but my father was always there on standby, because he knew very well that one way or another, my mother would most likely go off the rails. There were multiple times that he took the phone from me after she started ranting, then shut her up with a quick one-liner of some sort, and then hung up in her face.
My mother apparently did other... odd things. From stealing a car thinking that the cops were after her, (in the dead of night, with no sirens by the way) to..... probably the biggest delusion yet. My dad has a good friend, who we'll call Dave. (Not his real name). Dave unfortuantely lives somewhat close to my mother's house, and while my mother occasionally has ranted at him in the past, he doesn't really care about most of it. He's a chill guy who doesn't get freaked out by much in life. But, well, one day he pulled a letter out of his mailbox from my mother. He didn't care at first, but after reading it, was freaked out. I won't go into details of everything said, but she just apologized for a lot of things that didn't even happen, one involving my mother telling Dave that she didn't kill his mother. (Dave's mother is still alive and well, by the way)
Eventually, the denying of killing transferred over to me with the phone calls. In one phone call, my father wasn't there, and she started to go off the rails, denying about wanting to kill my sister, and describing how she could have. Knowing her very well, I simply took my phone and set it to start recording, then gave said recording to my father, telling him he could use it if he wanted. My dad apparently showed the recording to his lawyer, (With my permission) who is a good friend, and she was apparently appalled.
About the court date, it was set up, and she was charged for a number of things. But... she evaded coming to court for so long, and the time it took for the court to even get set up, made it so that the court timer eventually ran out, and charges on her were (mostly) dropped. After this, she IMMEDIATELY tried to start getting my sister back into her custody, not because she loved her, but again, because whoever is taking care of my sister gets money to take care of her, and a little extra. Through the 3 years this happened, and even to this day, she never got a job. You might be wondering how she survived for that long without going homeless. Well, she ransacked my room, sold whatever was able to be salvaged, and stole my wallet, which at the time, was everything I had saved up, over about $1000. My dad, being the caring man he is, eventually gave me that money to make up for it. She sold her car, and eventually had to sell her house, because she WILL NOT GET A DAMN JOB, EVER.
She eventually throughout months of trying did get my sister back into her custody, but thankfully, people knew of her past with her, and she was assigned people to do random drinking/smoking tests on her, as well as check on my sister. (My mother was also a heavy drinker and smoker coming up, and I know this because 8/10 times, she's brought me with her to the smoking shop.) They could come at any time, and could check whether she'd done either of these things. Let's just say, that my mother didn't even last 5 months. She went to the hospital for reasons I'm unaware of and lost custody of my sister, again. I do know she failed the test of checking on her smoking. (Can't say I'm surprised)
Throughout all these years, my mother has always asked me to call, and moreso to come meet her in person, and with the court charges dropped, she persisted on that even harder, but I've never wanted to do that. My dad relays all this to my mother over text messages, because like hell I'm telling her through my messages, because then she'd have my phone number. My mother has always blamed my father, claiming he won't let her see me, which he doesn't care about, especially since everyone but her has realized, that this is MY CHOICE.
Eventually, about a month ago, she asked my father if she could meet me in person. (She's never getting my sister back now, so her only option is me, because she really needed money, because she just REFUSES TO GET A JOB). This was basically a last-dtich-attempt from my mother to see me, saying that if I wasn't going to, she would move away from my town. My father told me all of this, (every messages she sends get relayed to me through him, and shows me the messages to prove it) I thought about it, and I told him to tell her, in no uncertain terms, that I, and me alone, do not wish to see her.
He gave that message to her, and she's been silent ever since. I do feel somewhat bad for her, but I feel like I shouldn't, but she is my mother. I don't really miss her, but I do feel bad.
There will likely be no updates, this is the entire story, from start to finish. Sorry for making this so long though.
All I ask, is am I the jerk for not wanting to see my mother again, and what should I do?

I'm going to be using fake names just in case this post gets found by someone I know. Sorry for how long this is.
So I Andrea f(30) and my husband Nathan m(35) have been together for 9 years. Dating :6 married :3, we get along for the most part but we do have fights, and having similar personality traits it can take a while for us to come together to talk it out/compromise. I come from a family with 3 younger siblings (m(26), f(25), and f(23))and we are all are adopted. My mom Jamie f(62) could not have children, I am the first she and my father Jacob m(62) adopted.
The first time this whole pregnancy/birth thing even came into play is when we had a pregnancy scare in the first year that we were dating, I was still living with my mother and Nathan had his own house. I had missed my period and taken a pregnancy test, it came up positive so I took another one and it came up negative. My doctor recommended I come in for a blood draw to get a solid answer, when I shared this with my mother she said quote "I can't believe my 22 year old unmarried daughter is going to have a baby, I thought I raised you better" I was shocked at her response, called Nathan and cried about it to him. Well it ended up being a false alarm.
Fast forward to me turning 26 and that seemed to flip a switch in my mother's mind and she began constantly asking when I would give her a grandchild. Before we even got married (2021) I told Nathan that I was not interested in having biological children. The thought of pregnancy and birth has always scared the shit out of me and I wanted no part of it. (I don't think I could handle it mentally/emotionally/physically , I know myself and the toll all of the changes would take on me. But a huge kudos to anyone who became pregnant on purpose or accident and kept the baby, you're alot stronger than I am) Nathan said that it was fine, he was good with adoption and raising a child that needed a loving family.
Fast forward again to this year my brother -in-law and his wife just had a baby. When it happened Nathan was kind of acting off so I asked him if something was wrong, he said he was still wanting to adopt but a part of him is always going to want a biological child like his brother had. My heart dropped when I heard this and so the next morning I turned to my mother for advice.
She asked me why I didn't want to be pregnant or give birth and I shared my fears with her, imagine my surprise when she shamed me for five minutes about how pregnancy is a blessing and beautiful then said "All I ever wanted was to be pregnant so you should just get over yourself and get pregnant to give Nathan the child he wants." When I tried to explain how it didn't have to do with Nathan, I didn't want to be pregnant no matter who I was with and just wanted to adopt she hung up on me.
I felt so horrible and like a monster after that phone call I called my youngest sister Kira f(23) to ask her if I was crazy for wanting to not even try to get pregnant and going straight for adoption. Funny enough Kira ended up pregnant at 18 and had her baby much to my mother's dismay at first (she changed her tune at the end because she had a new grand baby but her and I clashed alot over those 9 months for how she treated Kira). Kira reassured me that I wasn't crazy for knowing I never wanted to become pregnant and just wanting adoption. She told me to not let anyone pressure me to get pregnant and she would always have my back.
I just can't seem to shake my mom's voice out of my head about how it's unfair to Nathan. So AITA for saying I never want to be pregnant /give birth?

I'm going to be using fake names just in case this post gets found by someone I know. Sorry for how long this is.
So I Andrea f(30) and my husband Nathan m(35) have been together for 9 years. Dating :6 married :3, we get along for the most part but we do have fights, and having similar personality traits it can take a while for us to come together to talk it out/compromise. I come from a family with 3 younger siblings (m(26), f(25), and f(23))and we are all are adopted. My mom Jamie f(62) could not have children, I am the first she and my father Jacob m(62) adopted.
The first time this whole pregnancy/birth thing even came into play is when we had a pregnancy scare in the first year that we were dating, I was still living with my mother and Nathan had his own house. I had missed my period and taken a pregnancy test, it came up positive so I took another one and it came up negative. My doctor recommended I come in for a blood draw to get a solid answer, when I shared this with my mother she said quote "I can't believe my 22 year old unmarried daughter is going to have a baby, I thought I raised you better" I was shocked at her response, called Nathan and cried about it to him. Well it ended up being a false alarm.
Fast forward to me turning 26 and that seemed to flip a switch in my mother's mind and she began constantly asking when I would give her a grandchild. Before we even got married (2021) I told Nathan that I was not interested in having biological children. The thought of pregnancy and birth has always scared the shit out of me and I wanted no part of it. (I don't think I could handle it mentally/emotionally/physically , I know myself and the toll all of the changes would take on me. But a huge kudos to anyone who became pregnant on purpose or accident and kept the baby, you're alot stronger than I am) Nathan said that it was fine, he was good with adoption and raising a child that needed a loving family.
Fast forward again to this year my brother -in-law and his wife just had a baby. When it happened Nathan was kind of acting off so I asked him if something was wrong, he said he was still wanting to adopt but a part of him is always going to want a biological child like his brother had. My heart dropped when I heard this and so the next morning I turned to my mother for advice.
She asked me why I didn't want to be pregnant or give birth and I shared my fears with her, imagine my surprise when she shamed me for five minutes about how pregnancy is a blessing and beautiful then said "All I ever wanted was to be pregnant so you should just get over yourself and get pregnant to give Nathan the child he wants." When I tried to explain how it didn't have to do with Nathan, I didn't want to be pregnant no matter who I was with and just wanted to adopt she hung up on me.
I felt so horrible and like a monster after that phone call I called my youngest sister Kira f(23) to ask her if I was crazy for wanting to not even try to get pregnant and going straight for adoption. Funny enough Kira ended up pregnant at 18 and had her baby much to my mother's dismay at first (she changed her tune at the end because she had a new grand baby but her and I clashed alot over those 9 months for how she treated Kira). Kira reassured me that I wasn't crazy for knowing I never wanted to become pregnant and just wanting adoption. She told me to not let anyone pressure me to get pregnant and she would always have my back.
I just can't seem to shake my mom's voice out of my head about how it's unfair to Nathan. So AITA for saying I never want to be pregnant /give birth?