Asian food pyramid pictures

AskCulinary

2011.12.15 06:30 Donnerkatze AskCulinary

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2008.09.04 01:16 The subreddit for all things sushi!

The subreddit for all things sushi! Whether it be pictures of your latest night out or your own home creations, if it's served alongside sushi rice, this is where to post it!
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2011.07.05 08:22 littlefield20 Beautiful Libertyville

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2024.05.02 22:35 AhuraApollyon Best Of r/CulturalLayer, And Resource Guide. Updated! 70,000 subscribers!

Comment if you have other resources, blogs, youtube channels, or posts that I should include.
Phantom time
Anomalous Soil Accumulation
Egypt
Europe
Asia
North America
Russia
American civil War
People/Pseudo characters
Archeology
Architecture
Technology
Giants
Religion
Geography
Meta
Miscellaneous
Symbolism
Resources
Heavily moderated
Defunct
www.wildheretic.commegaliths.org
Wikipedia
other subs
defunct
homogiganticus
Youtube channels
Defunct
Missing/lost and found
* posting livejournals in the comments
submitted by AhuraApollyon to CulturalLayer [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 22:31 sarahbeth3653 Betta stressed at night but fine in the morning??

By the end of the night almost every night she has stress stripes. Then I panic and check temp, parameters, and what not. Everything’s normal?? By the morning she’s her normal color again. The only difference in behavior is won’t eat her food (when she has the stress stripes) unless I use tweezers and put it right in front of her face. In the morning she’ll take the food from the top of the water like usual. Like I’m so confused??
Harriet Betta Info
submitted by sarahbeth3653 to bettafish [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 22:30 AKACHI2007 WHY ARE THE 4 HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE THE SAME COLOURS AS THE ISLAMIC FLAGS?

WHY ARE THE 4 HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE THE SAME COLOURS AS THE ISLAMIC FLAGS?
WHITE RED BLACK GREEN
Have you noticed how the 4 horsemen in Revelations Chapter 6 are the colours of the Islamic Flag? Is that a coincidence? Pay ATTENTION because when it's concerning black folks the bible is SCARY in it's accuracy.
The reason Why Eurocentric Churches Can not understand the visions of John, Daniel, Ezekiel, Zechariah, and the prophecy of Jesus (Yahushua Ha-Mashiach), in the Bible is that they dismiss Black History in place of European lies!
They try to fit Modern Israel into everything rather than looking at what the bible is saying for itself!
Because they cannot accept the truth they have been given over to a lie and a delusion!
The Greek translation of the word PALE *is "*CHLOROS" which means GREEN, GREENISH or PALE according to Strong's bible concordance. Many Bibles use the word GREEN instead of PALE but some use PALE instead of GREEN in Rev 6:7.
Let’s look into how REVELATIONS 6 relates to Islam and Black people.
THE FIRST HORSEMAN

THE FIRST SEAL 632 AD

6 I looked on when the Lamb opened one of the seven seals, and I heard one of the four living creatures saying with a thunderous voice, “Come!” 2 So I looked, and here came a WHITE HORSE! The one who rode it had a bow***, AND HE WAS GIVEN A CROWN, AND AS A CONQUEROR, HE RODE OUT TO CONQUER.***
WHITE HORSE- CONQUEST!
MUHAMMED AND THE RASHIDUN CALIPHATE: 632 AD-661 AD
  • The crown given represents the FIRST Caliphate (ISLAMIC EMPIRE) who succeeded the prophet, Muhammed in 632 AD.
  • Conquered Jerusalem in 638 AD
  • A crown was given to him which means the FIRST Muslim Empire that rode out on Conquest! They were called the Rashidun Caliphate!
  • Brilliant horsemen & highly skilled Archers rode out on conquests
THE SECOND HORSEMAN

THE SECOND SEAL 661 AD

3 Then when the Lamb opened the second seal, I heard the second living creature saying, “Come!” 4 And another HORSE, FIERY RED, came out, and the one who rode it was granted permission to take peace from the earth, SO THAT PEOPLE WOULD BUTCHER ONE ANOTHER, AND HE WAS GIVEN A HUGE SWORD.
RED RED HORSE-CIVIL WAR
THE UMAYYAD CALIPHATE: 661 AD-750 AD
  • The SECOND Caliphate (ISLAMIC EMPIRE)
  • Birthed from the 1st civil war called fitnahs & went on to have 2 more during its reign. The most civil wars of all caliphates
  • Built the DOME ON THE ROCK which is dated by Angel Gabriel to be the Abomination of Desolation in the book of DANIEL 12:11.
  • Completion of 'The Dome on the Rock' in 692 AD led to Israelite slavery for 13 centuries (A time, Times & half a Time) during the MUSLIM ARAB SLAVE TRADE which birthed the TRANS-ATLANTIC SLAVE TRADE. Daniel 12:12.
  • JESUS warned his people in Matt 24:15-24, MK 13:14-25 & LUKE 21:20-24 that they will go into slavery when the DOME ON THE ROCK is built.
THE THIRD HORSE MAN

THE THIRD SEAL 750 AD

5 Then when the Lamb opened the third seal I heard the third living creature saying, “Come!” So I looked, and here came a BLACK HORSE! The] one who rode it had a balance scale in his hand. 6 Then I heard something like a voice from among the four living creatures saying, “A QUART OF WHEAT WILL COST A DAY’S PAY AND THREE QUARTS OF BARLEY WILL COST A DAY’S PAY. BUT DO NOT DAMAGE THE OLIVE OIL AND THE WINE!”
BLACK HORSE- COMMERCE & INDUSTRY
THE ABBASID CALIPHATE- The Golden Age of Islam
  • The Abbasid Empire was known for its commerce & industry.
  • The THIRD Caliphate (ISLAMIC EMPIRE)
  • Contrary to most opinions that say this is famine the bible is NOT saying that. Buying 3 quarts of barley for a day's pay can feed a large family with leftovers. Barley expands 3 to 4 times its size and for a day's pay that is quite a lot.
  • This reflects the Golden Age of Islam which Muslims are very proud of.
  • Known for focusing on trade, Arts, and Science.
  • Built the Ancient city of Baghdad which served as a center for trade etc.
THE FOURTH HORSEMAN

THE FOURTH SEAL 1258 AD

7 Then when the Lamb opened the fourth seal I heard the voice of the fourth living creature saying, “Come!” 8 So I looked and here came a PALE GREEN HORSE! The name of the one who rode it was DEATH, AND HADES FOLLOWED RIGHT BEHIND*. They were given authority over* A FOURTH OF THE EARTH, TO KILL ITS POPULATION WITH THE SWORD, FAMINE, AND DISEASE, AND BY THE WILD ANIMALS OF THE EARTH.
PALE GREEN HORSE 1258 AD-1502 AD
MONGOLS “Come and sip from the cup of Destruction”-Genghis Khan
  • The Golden Horde were Muslim Converts hence the Pale Green and not a deeper Green. They did not inherit Islam like the other Caliphates before them but rather Converted to Islam.
  • The Greek translation of the word PALE *is "*CHLOROS" which means GREEN, GREENISH or PALE according to Strong's bible concordance. Many Bibles use the word GREEN instead of PALE but some use PALE instead of GREEN in Rev 6:7.
  • The Khan of the Golden Horde converted to Islam in 1258/59 AD the horde became fully Muslim within 83 years.
  • The Mongols own a quarter of the world in landmass. You can google this and it comes up immediately!
  • The Golden Horde threw dead bodies infected with plague over enemy walls.
  • The BLACK DEATH is believed to be the worse plague in history killing up to 60 % of the European population. It is widely considered to have reached Europe because of the earliest form of biological warfare performed by the Golden Horde in the siege of Caffa in 1346.
  • 1 quarter of the world's population was under Mongol Rule
  • Dogs ate corpses and the plague was responsible for massive food shortages & interrupted trade
The Golden Horde had a very early form of biological warfare where they would take the dead bodies of plague-infected victims and throw them over their enemy's walls. Many historians believe this to amplify the range of the BLACK DEATH which was the worst plague in recorded history! See the (Golden Horde) Siege of CAFFA
Obviously with no one to work the fields because of the plague famine crept in and wild animals ate the flesh of plagued victims.
This also takes the direction of the seals towards EUROPE where the next seal takes place.
TRANS ATLANTIC SLAVE TRADE

THE FIFTH SEAL 1502 AD

9 Now when the Lamb opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been violently killed because of the WORD OF GOD AND BECAUSE OF THE TESTIMONY THEY HAD GIVEN. 10 They cried out with a loud voice, “HOW LONG, SOVEREIGN MASTER, HOLY AND TRUE, BEFORE YOU JUDGE THOSE WHO LIVE ON THE EARTH AND AVENGE OUR BLOOD?” 11 Each of them was given a long white robe and they were told to rest for a little longer until the full number was reached of both their fellow servants] and their brothers who were going to be killed just as they had been.
1502 AD to PRESENT
THE SLAVE TRADE!
The transatlantic slave trade started shortly after the Hebrews and the Moors were kicked out of Spain in 1492 AD by QUEEN ISABELLA & KING FERDINAND. The Date the bible has given for the testimony of the Hebrews and Christians is 1502 AD when many historians believed that the Trans-Atlantic slave trade began. That is 10 YEARS AFTER THEY DISCOVERED AMERICA! You have yet to learn how this relates to REVELATIONS 12 &13. Please look out for my post on that!
In 1502, Spanish colonists asked the king of Spain for permission to bring African slaves to the New World to provide labor for their large farms, or plantations. The colonists occupied the West Indies, the islands in the Caribbean Sea on which explorer Christopher Columbus (1451–1506) had first landed ten years earlier.
“WORD OF GOD AND BECAUSE OF THE TESTIMONY THEY HAD GIVEN.“ When you observe historically how this makes sense we can review the Spanish INQUISITION and how it LED to the trans-Atlantic slave trade. Many people have not connected the dots. But I will do a post on how this relates to Revelations 12 & 13. All this is about the suffering of the Black Israelites and what happened to them. MANY HEBREWS & CHRISTIANS DIED IN THE SPANISH INQUISITION and this seal is the revelation of those things.
If you saw my last post “IT ALL STARTED FOR US WITH THE ARAB SLAVE TRADE & THE DOME ON THE ROCK 692 AD. BIBLICAL PROPHECY” https://www.reddit.com/HebrewIsraelites/comments/1ce9a7f/it_all_started_for_us_with_the_arab_slave_trade/
You will see how this links up and get a better picture of how the bible tells you that the true children of the Most High God will end up scattered into the entire world through slavery and this is what makes the NEXT SEAL MAKE SENSE.
STARFALL

THE SIXTH SEAL ???

12 Then I looked when the Lamb opened the sixth seal, and a huge earthquake took place; the sun became as black as sackcloth made of hair, and the full moon became blood red; 13 and the stars in the sky fell to the earth like a fig tree dropping its unripe figs when shaken by a fierce wind. 14 The sky was split apart like a scroll being rolled up, and every mountain and island was moved from its place. 15 Then the kings of the earth, the very important people, the generals, the rich, the powerful, and everyone, slave and free, hid themselves in the caves and among the rocks of the mountains. 16 They said to the mountains and to the rocks, “Fall on us and hide us from the face of the one who is seated on the throne and from the wrath of the Lamb, 17 because the great day of their wrath has come, and who is able to withstand it?”
CONTINUED ON REVELATIONS CHAPTER 7
THE GATHERING OF THE TRUE ISRAELITES- Descendants of the captive African and the Hebrew slaves
After this I saw four angels standing at the four corners of the earth, holding back the four winds of the earth so no wind could blow on the earth, on the sea, or on any tree. 2 Then I saw another angel ascending from the east, who had the seal of the living God. He shouted out with a loud voice to the four angels who had been given permission to damage the earth and the sea: 3 “Do not damage the earth or the sea or the trees until we have put a seal on the foreheads of the servants of our God.” 4 Now I heard the number of those who were marked with the seal,144,000, sealed from all the tribes of the people of Israel:
To keep the post short I won’t go too deep into this but we can see here that we are approaching the sixth Seal. THE DREADED WORLDWIDE EARTHQUAKE! This is a worldwide disaster that is about to happen. NASA & other experts may well tell you that a comet has hit the earth to give people a reason but they themselves will not understand. This is the Sign for God's people to return to the Messiah and come Home as He is about to Return.
Here is what Jesus says about this, now if you saw my last post, “IT ALL STARTED FOR US WITH THE ARAB SLAVE TRADE & THE DOME ON THE ROCK 692 AD. BIBLICAL PROPHECY” you would know he was talking about the DOME OF THE ROCK AND THE ARAB SLAVE TRADE WHICH LEGALLY ENDED IN 2007.
YES THE BIBLE GAVE DATES IN THE BOOK OF DANIEL!
MATTHEW 24:29-31
29 “Immediately after the suffering of those days, the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from heaven, and the powers of heaven will be shaken. 30 Then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in heaven, and all the tribes of the earth will mourn. They will see the Son of Man arriving on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory. 31 And he will send his angels with a loud trumpet blast, AND THEY WILL GATHER HIS ELECT FROM THE FOUR WINDS, FROM ONE END OF HEAVEN TO THE OTHER.
JOEL 3
1 For look! In those days and at that time I will return the exiles to Judah and Jerusalem.2 Then I will gather all the nations,
and bring them down to the Valley of Jehoshaphat. I WILL ENTER INTO JUDGMENT AGAINST THEM THERE CONCERNING MY PEOPLE ISRAEL WHO ARE MY INHERITANCE, WHOM THEY SCATTERED AMONG THE NATIONS…
…Crowds, great crowds are in the Valley of Decision, for the day of the Lord is near in the Valley of Decision! 15 THE SUN AND MOON ARE DARKENED; THE STARS WITHHOLD THEIR BRIGHTNESS.
16 THE LORD ROARS FROM ZION; FROM JERUSALEM, HIS VOICE BELLOWS OUT. THE HEAVENS AND THE EARTH SHAKE. BUT THE LORD IS A REFUGE FOR HIS PEOPLE; HE IS A STRONGHOLD FOR THE CITIZENS OF ISRAEL.
From this point you will march on to Jerusalem and a census of 144,000 males will be taken from among you to claim the land the Lord has given you. From among you 2 great prophets will be raised with power like the Lord when he was on the earth, to deliver you. The world will hate you and will war against you and you against them and the two prophets will make them drink blood for the things they have done to you and God’s Church. After this GOG/The Beast from the Abyss will return to reclaim the land it was driven from.
The 4 Horsemen of the Apocalypse
submitted by AKACHI2007 to HebrewIsraelites [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 22:21 lr42 30M - French as a second language study buddy

Hey all, gonna try my luck here.
I want to learn French. I want to go from zero to bilingual (ambitious, eh) I went to YMCA and took an assessment and they put me in a waitlist for level 2. No idea how long the wait time is gonna be for that one. In the mean time, I want to get some foundations right. I started a little bit with Duolingo but I figured a study buddy could be super useful and hopefully someone in a similar skill level or higher preferably.
We can do a virtual study session and meet up maybe once or twice a month.
For what it's worth, I'm 30 M, south asian background, work in tech, like biking, soccer, classic and alt rock as far as music taste goes (think porcupine tree...) , love exploring food joints, used to blog and I want to start doing that and besides that, just your average 9-5 dude wanting to have a bit of hobbies and somewhat a social life in the 5-9.
Cheers!
submitted by lr42 to TorontoHangoutFriends [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 22:20 Kaden-kitsu Nmom wouldn't stop talking while my 23 year old cat was getting euthanized

I (26m) had to have my 23 year old cat euthanized this week due to chronic kidney failure. I stupidly called my nmom (56) to tell her, and she decided to drive over an hour to the vet's office "to say goodbye" The entire time we were waiting for the doctors she kept talking about herself. She kept talking about her job (which I know she won't keep for long as a notorious job hopper, but that's a different story) talked about her dog, her neighbors' dogs, kept showing me random pictures of food she made at work, talked about my dad's work problems. Never once asked how I'm doing or anything. Not that I think anybody should care about my feelings, but still. I begged her to stop talking for just a little bit so I can be with my cat in peace and say goodbye, but she ignored me and kept yapping about random stuff to the vet until they were done putting my cat to sleep. She finally left the room once my cat was already dead. All I wanted was a few moments of silence with my baby while she was still here with me, and I couldn't get a word in edge wise. I have been my cat's sole caretaker since I was a teenager. My parents are terrible about neglecting their animals, and I couldn't let that happen to my cat. I'm so devastated I didn't get to say goodbye the way I wanted to. I can't stop crying.
submitted by Kaden-kitsu to raisedbynarcissists [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 22:12 throwaway99966623 Giving up hope on fixing asymmetry…

Hello everyone, as the title suggests, I’ve been struggling with my facial asymmetry for quite a few months now. Before I get the same suggestions and tips, I’ve posted about this problem before on this account. I go into a lot more detail about my problem as well as provide background about myself to give you guys a better understanding of what the problem may or may not be. I say this because I’m aware that many different factors can affect asymmetry, so I added this background to better help determine which factor(s) are causing the asymmetry. Instead of rewriting everything I had on these posts I’m gonna provide the links below. All these links provide either photos or diagrams.
Links:
https://www.reddit.com/orthotropics/s/0NyRB3bi6Q
https://www.reddit.com/orthotropics/s/OIG04nNvSK
https://www.reddit.com/orthotropics/s/UYepVSaUj8
I also just had one more question. After looking at the pictures provided on the links, are you guys sure that the skinnier “less developed” side of my face is the weaker side? The only reason why I ask this is because in just about every picture I take, the “less developed” side looks better than my “more developed” side. IMO the “more developed” side looks FAT instead of developed if that makes sense. Although I agree the masseter muscle is bigger on that side, it also looks like I stuffed food on that side of the mouth or I got stung by a big ass bee. I’m also just realizing that my skinnier side seems to be “pulled back” compared to my bigger side if that makes sense. If you guys think it’s an uneven storage of fat on my face please let me know. I guess what I’m asking is… is the skinnier side supposed to bulk up to look like my “fat” side or can I slim my my fatter side to look like my skinnier side. If you guys have any questions or concerns please feel free to let me know.
submitted by throwaway99966623 to orthotropics [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 22:06 help_dress01 Husband [29M] needs to understand why this dress is important to me [28F]

I [28F] recently married my husband [29] at the courthouse. I made my own wedding dress and was incredibly proud of it. The one thing I asked from my husband for that day was for us to do a photoshoot at a local place that is near the courthouse.
After the marriage ceremony (small ceremony with only his parents as witnesses) they decided to eat first because it was raining. But it only started raining because they took too long to get settled before the ceremony. Also, I wanted to eat with my husband at a special place they decided to go to a greasy quick place nothing special. I said okay but if we still do the photoshoot after eating. Every location was super close to each other, it's a small town, so I figured it was no biggie.
The issue happened at the restaurant. Some food fell on my dress, it's made of satin cloth, frills with some embroidered patterns. I was so mad. We didn’t do the photoshoot.
Now I have tried to take the stain out but it won’t budge. it is grease on satin it just won't come off. It makes me insanely sad that I won’t be able to use my dress for pictures. His mom even said, wear any other white dress. Like it's nothing special. My husband doesn’t understand either.
Tl;dr My wedding dress was ruined before we got a chance at pictures, husband doesn’t seem to understand why this makes me so emotional.
How can I make him understand why I am so sad?
submitted by help_dress01 to relationships [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 21:51 masterkilljoy47 [M/28/Scotland] Hey! My name is Ray. I’m looking for friendship. Regardless if you message or not I hope you remember that it’s okay to not be okay and your feeling are valid. Stay hydrated you cool people. (:

Hello! I’m a 6’6”, Green eyed, Brown curly hair Scotsman I’m easy going so you don’t have to worry about impressing me! You can open up and discuss anything with me or even share memes and pictures of your beloved animals. :D
Some of my favourite past times: History, Geography, Linguistics, Politics, Mechanical assembly/disassembly, Gaming, Reading, Music, Military Hardware/vehicles, Firearms, admiring the beauty of nature and the world, and hopefully making you laugh! Oh and I enjoy Chinese food. :p
Bands/artists I enjoy: Avenged Sevenfold, A day to remember, fall out boy, panic! At the disco, paramore, chvrches, kero kero Benito, pierce the veil, evanescence, starbomb. And a plethora of random songs including anime/video game soundtracks.
Games that I play/enjoy: Call of duty, Battlefield, Halo, Siege, overwatch, titanfall, hitman, fallout, Elder scrolls, cyberpunk, party animals, ace combat. And many more that I can’t possibly list!
I have messenger, what’s app, discord, Xbox. So if you want to use any of them let me know! Thank you for reading this post and I hope to hear from you! Don’t delay and message Ray today. (:
submitted by masterkilljoy47 to friendship [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 21:50 masterkilljoy47 [M/28/Scotland] Hey! My name is Ray. I’m looking for friendship. Regardless if you message or not I hope you remember that it’s okay to not be okay and your feeling are valid. Stay hydrated you cool people. (:

Hello! I’m a 6’6”, Green eyed, Brown curly hair Scotsman I’m easy going so you don’t have to worry about impressing me! You can open up and discuss anything with me or even share memes and pictures of your beloved animals. :D
Some of my favourite past times: History, Geography, Linguistics, Politics, Mechanical assembly/disassembly, Gaming, Reading, Music, Military Hardware/vehicles, Firearms, admiring the beauty of nature and the world, and hopefully making you laugh! Oh and I enjoy Chinese food. :p
Bands/artists I enjoy: Avenged Sevenfold, A day to remember, fall out boy, panic! At the disco, paramore, chvrches, kero kero Benito, ninja sex party, evanescence, starbomb. And a plethora of random songs including anime/video game soundtracks.
Games that I play/enjoy: Call of duty, Battlefield, Halo, Siege, overwatch, titanfall, hitman, fallout, Elder scrolls, cyberpunk, party animals, ace combat. And many more that I can’t possibly list!
I have messenger, what’s app, discord, Xbox. So if you want to use any of them let me know! Thank you for reading this post and I hope to hear from you! Don’t delay and message Ray today. (:
submitted by masterkilljoy47 to Needafriend [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 21:49 masterkilljoy47 [M/28/Scotland] Hey! My name is Ray. I’m looking for friendship. Regardless if you message or not I hope you remember that it’s okay to not be okay and your feeling are valid. Stay hydrated you cool people. (:

Hello! I’m a 6’6”, Green eyed, Brown curly hair Scotsman I’m easy going so you don’t have to worry about impressing me! You can open up and discuss anything with me or even share memes and pictures of your beloved animals. :D
Some of my favourite past times: History, Geography, Linguistics, Politics, Mechanical assembly/disassembly, Gaming, Reading, Music, Military Hardware/vehicles, Firearms, admiring the beauty of nature and the world, and hopefully making you laugh! Oh and I enjoy Chinese food. :p
Bands/artists I enjoy: Avenged Sevenfold, A day to remember, fall out boy, panic! At the disco, paramore, chvrches, kero kero Benito, ninja sex party, evanescence, starbomb. And a plethora of random songs including anime/video game soundtracks.
Games that I play/enjoy: Call of duty, Battlefield, Halo, Siege, overwatch, titanfall, hitman, fallout, Elder scrolls, cyberpunk, party animals, ace combat. And many more that I can’t possibly list!
I have messenger, what’s app, discord, Xbox. So if you want to use any of them let me know! Thank you for reading this post and I hope to hear from you! Don’t delay and message Ray today. (:
submitted by masterkilljoy47 to MakeNewFriendsHere [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 21:48 Chizcle WIBTAH for going no contact with my sister that has cancer

This is my first time writing anything like this about my life so I'm sorry if it's too long as there's a lot to unpack and I want to just lay everything out to get the best advice to help my decision.
I come from a family of 6. There was me, my mother, father and three sisters. I'm the youngest and there's an 8 year gap between me and my sisters, who only have around a one year gap between each of them. Growing up it was always World War 3 in our house with them as when they were in their teens the three of them shared a room. The sister in question, "Sarah", is the middle in age of the three, "Winifred" the oldest and "Mary" the youngest.
Sarah has always been the least like any of us, we're all very different, both in personality and looks, it's been pointed out multiple times by friends how different we all are from each other, but Sarah has always carried an air of superiority I've never seen in the rest of my family.
The one trait me and my siblings share would be we all have/had put ourselves first, which can be a good thing but can lean into selfishness pretty easily, a problem that plagued my personality until I met my husband who helped me see the difference in putting myself first and being a selfish AH.
Sarah has never been the type to let anything go. She always brings up things that happened when my sisters were teenagers (they're all in their 40s now) along with embellishing or completely fabricating things that have happened that make her out to be completely blameless. She retells these story's over and over until she genuinely believes them and then throws a tantrum when one or more of us correct her. I remember arguments Sarah would have with my parents that always ended up with her storming out of the house, she tends to run away from problems.
Sarah and my mother have never seen eye to eye. In many ways they're too similar, always need the last word, headstrong, never apologizing, the need to always be right and they obsess way too much about what people think (in different ways, Sarah cares about how people/ strangers perceive her and her families manners/ social status and success, my mother is particularly obsessive on people knowing details about her personal life and is a very private person). It's always been my view that Sarah has always lacked my mother's warmth and her honesty (mostly to a fault but she would always try and spare someone's feelings and bite her tongue when she really needed to). Sarah's name calling about my other sisters was always a main spark to her and my mothers arguments.
Her and Winifred got on well for the most part from what I remember, and when we all got older she was fine to talk to. There were even a few times when my father was sick, myself, Sarah and Winifred had some bonding time which was nice.
Several years ago Mary was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia ( severely effects her central nervous system, can cause wide spread pain and can easily cause fatigue) and a few years ago she was diagnosed with cervical cancer. She had a full hysterectomy and the cancer seems to be a memory but this still wasn't enough for Sarah to not belittle Mary and her, what Sarah calls "life choices". Mary has struggled with her weight since she was a teenager and Sarah never held back in letting her know her opinions on it.
It's common knowledge in our family that Sarah has always been ashamed of where she comes from and would always be embarrassed by how my mother and Mary acted and spoke (little filter and Sarah considers this candour and how they speak "lower class" ). Mary has always Sarah's verbal punching bag, both to her face and behind her back but has always disliked when people, mainly my mother, would call her out and tell her to stop. The most recent example of this I was told about was that at my wedding, she made a nasty comment about the dress Mary was wearing. Months later my mother mentioned it in an argument to Sarah that her sister (my aunt) overheard Sarah's remarks and made a disapproving face. Sarah apparently just walked away from the conversation. The next day my aunt called my mother and asked that she "not be involved in my family's drama". My mother, confused asked her what she meant and my aunt said that Sarah drove (1.5 hours) to her house to confront her about it even though it happened just short of a year before.
For years our father had been desperately trying to get my mother to agree for them to move and downsize homes so they could enjoy their retirement with a little extra money but she was extremely reluctant to leave the family home due to a combination of leaving happy memories behind and being afraid of such a big change.
Then one day, Sarah offered to give up some of her land for them to live on as a cheaper option. I think we all agreed it was a good idea and we were all so surprised by what seemed to be generosity, it blindsided us all and we mistook it as her turning over a new leaf. Our father was all for the idea as him and Sarah agreed it was good to be near family in their golden years.
I replay my parents asking my advice on this over and over in my head, as in hindsight it was obviously an awful idea. But like Winifred and Mary, I agreed it would be the best move.
Their original idea was for them to get a tiny home and have it about 100 yards from Sarah's home. Sarah entertained that idea for a short while but convinced them a built small property attached to their home would be better.
The family home was nearly 2 hours drive away from Sarah's home so her and her husband took charge with contractors and overseen almost anything to do with the build if my parents couldn't make it.
The first quote, pre-build, they received was 50k. But in the end it tripled into 150k. Over the course of the build Sarah had changed things, the location of the front door, which was now facing the window to her home office (which is her main place of work), and back door, which changed to face the back of Sarah's house ( I know this all seems like major red flags but again, her and her husband convinced them it was to do with not damaging parts of her property and what seemed like other valid reasonings).
Cut to the house being built, selling the family home and them moving in, it wasn't long until our father became ill. First we noticed his memory wasn't as sharp as it was, then he had difficulty driving and had to stop completely. It was around this time and slightly after the sale of their house Sarah started pestering him for a loan. He told me this himself, at first it was suggesting they bring everyone on a big holiday, then it was saying it would be nice to give all their kids 20k and how it would be nice to see us enjoy it. She eventually wore him down and he loaned her 20k, I'm assuming to get her off his back. At some point after she booked a trip to New York, brought 2 suitcases, one of which was empty but came back with them both packed full. I know it was her business what she wanted the money for but even if it was for a shopping trip she could have had the decency to conceal it a bit better. She promised him time and time again she'd pay him back. He never seen a penny. Previous to this he offered Winifred the same amount as she was going through a divorce and it would have gone to a house for her to move out, she thanked him for offering but turned it down and said she'd be ok. She didn't tell him that it was because she thought it wasn't right to accept money from him knowing he was sick as he was a very proud man.
My father was the best man I've ever known. Incredibly down to earth, very open and friendly and could make friends at the drop of a hat. I remember a couple of vacations when we were kids. Thousands of miles from home he'd bump into old friends of his.
He was the kind of person who rarely got a cold so his decline was obvious to everyone. It was a year of being misdiagnosed until he was finally correctly diagnosed with stage four liver cancer, which had moved to his lung and towards the end, a part of his brain.
His last month was the worst time of my entire life. The arguments, the tears, My mother and one of my sisters (I can't remember who) caught covid so we had to juggle who could be where. It was also the first time in nearly 20 years all of us were together for longer than a day.
Myself and Winifred were lucky enough to have bosses that were very understanding and adjusted our schedules so we were given the month off to be with our family.
As I said Sarah works from home and sees clients from her home office. She maintained her regular work schedule while we were all meters away. I understand that was her choice but it seems like odd while our father was literally wasting away in his bed, especially since she works for herself so has a pretty good control of when she can work.
Our father was such a strong person. Every palliative nurse that came were more and more taken aback with each visit that he was still with us.
We all said our individual goodbyes and promises to look after each other when his condition had advanced too much not to, and the next morning, he passed.
He had a special relationship with all of us and things Sarah has said since his passing leads me to believe she thought hers was the only one that mattered.
The funeral ceremony was quick (as per his wishes). We elected Sarah to be the one to give the eulogy as the rest of us have anxiety issues with public speaking, but we read what she was going to say a few days before the ceremony. I was the first one to read what she wrote and noticed a bulk of the corrections were changing "My Dad" to "Our Dad", I wouldn't have mentioned it but there were even times even in conversation I would correct her on this, it may seem insignificant but it's just something that really bothered me. I mean when siblings talk about their parents to each other is normal to just say "mom" or "dad" to each other.
There was light food and drinks in a local bar afterwards. As there were so many arguments the previous month between Winifred, Sarah, Mary & my mother, me and my husband were really the only people making conversation with her and her husband, apart from the odd distant relative or two. A week or so later Sarah flew off to New York, something she tried to conceal from my mother but she forgot she mentioned it to her almost a year before. There was yet another huge argument between Winifred & Sarah when Sarah thought Winifred told my mother this big secret. This is another trait Sarah and my mother share, forgetting they say things and to whom. When asked why she was so mad if my mother knew she was going away was something along the lines of "Because I didn't want to give her any ammunition use and tell everyone at the funeral". My mother is a chronic complainer who has never seen the bigger picture in social situations, but she knows better than that. Plus she had just lost her husband of 46 years who was also her best friend of 50, something I think Sarah will never see
The last two years without our father have not gotten any better, Winifred was diagnosed with breast cancer, started chemo, then discovered it has spread to her other breast, all while looking after 2 teenagers with CF and going through a divorce to a deplorable human being who seems to take pleasure in making her miserable. When Sarah heard the news of the divorce she offered to attend court with her, Winifred told me she yelled at her and her representation for not saying enough in court and then later told my mother "I only helped her because she has cancer".
When going on vacation with her family Sarah told my mother days before there departure and I later found out her children caught chicken pox but she took them on the plane anyway. My mother does not drive and there is no stores that are easily accessible for her.
Sarah was also diagnosed with a cancerous tumor in her colon. Both have had treatments and they seem to be on the mend.
The relationship between Sarah and my mother did not get any better in fact Sarah's partner Billy became a reluctant go between for them both.
After our father passed, my mother asked Billy could her utility bills be altered as she was still paying half of everything, even though there was four people in their house (2 kids) and she was now on her own. His response was no and that her and our father agreed to split utilities evenly. We advised my mother to organize a pre-pay electric meter for her part of the house so she could manage it properly. Shortly after, Sarah and Billy stopped using the jacuzzi they recently purchased as it was too expensive for them to run.
One month my mother paid €400, the next month €200, 2 months later it was €500, there's no way a pensioner living on her own could rack up half of those bills (The average household here only gets their oil refilled once every 3-6 months). She also bought a free standing gas bottle heater in her main living area and had her upstairs radiators were turned off to try and limit the usage as she never really went up there. I will add that Sarahs business requires a somewhat constant use of energy so even a 50/50 split of bills seemed unfair. Since our fathers passing, my mother would also spend days at time either with me, Winifred or Mary, but she paid it anyway just to not have any arguments.
She made one small payment of about 4% of the total 20k to my mother before our father passed and laid out a payment plan to her about how much she'd pay each month. There were no further payments. A year later Sarahs family dog got seriously ill and needed a surgery that would cost 1300 and asked my mother to lend her this money & my mother, being soft hearted loaned it to her. She did make an attempt to pay my mother back but again, one small payment was made and no more. Each time my mother brought up the money she'd brush her off and not speak to her for a while. The longest was 3 weeks with zero contact, and remember, she lived right beside her and my mother doesn't drive and it would be impossible for her to walk to a store. If it weren't for Myself and Winifred constantly checking in my mother would have just rationed the food she had. We had suggested to arrange a food delivery in the past but Sarah and Billy didn't want strangers to know the code for the gate to the property, but knowing she hadn't spoken to our mother for 3 weeks and didn't care enough to ask if she needed anything in the store forced my hand to arrange one anyway.
Everything that's happened with Sarah has made us seriously re-think everything she said has happened in her life, and a pattern we've noticed is that she's pushed away all her serious partners family from them. Her first serious boyfriend of 7-8 years, then her ex husband and her current husband Billy. First it would start with their mother or sisters, small squabbles at here and there, then on a weekly basis, followed by a giant falling out which would result in her partners only seeing their family on occasion and eventually cutting contact. At the time we all took her at her word: their mothers didn't want their sons taken away, they were rude, they were jealous of her independence etc. But seeing her push us all away and seeing the same thing happen to us we all feel incredibly foolish.
Sarah has done and said some pretty horrible stuff over the years. I can't remember specific times or dates and some may seem trivial but these ones just stuck with me:
- When Winifred was fighting with my mother over something trivial, she suggested "keep your kids away from her (my mother), that will hurt her". She's always used her children under the guise of care anytime they had a disagreement, to try and manipulate the argument in her favour. On several occasions my mother would wave to them playing outside or walking by her window and they'd rapidly put their heads down as if being scolded, so god knows what Sarah has ben saying to them. While we were helping my mother was move out, my niece came inside and she was in tears because my mother was not there for her birthday a few weeks before. She asked her why she didn't come out to her, why she didn't see her on her birthday and asked why she was moving and if she still loved her. Taken aback when she heard this she said of course she told her she loved her and she always would, she told her once she has a phone she could call her every day if she wanted, she explained she needed to be somewhere she could go grocery shopping and have things close to her home. I wasn't thee for the whole interaction but when my niece left my mother said the things my niece said were things Sarah had said to my mother in the past verbatim.
- Bringing her kids on a plane to vacation while they (1 or both I can't remember) had chicken pox.
- Casually mentioning to my mother about money she has left from the sale of the house and what pension she’s getting and how much (some of my mothers post had gone missing)
- She once ran away from home when she was a teenager for several weeks because my parents gave her an 11PM curfew
- Always passing comment and keeping tally about how much her or her children received for birthdays or any kind of milestone event (most recently my aunt gave her son €30 and it was the first thing she mentioned when she talked about my aunt not staying until the end for her sons birthday, something along the lines of "€30? What can he buy with that?" He just turned 12 and we only see this aunt a couple of times a year. (Also I give all my nieces and nephews that amount for birthdays and Christmas so hearing this made me re-think all her past thank yous)
- Decades of berating Mary and putting her down, always about her weight or the way she acted (hyperactive, no filter etc)
- Admitting to Winifred that she decided to build a barrier at the end of her patio to make my mother take a less direct route and, in-turn, from "looking into her house" when she needed access the trash, but told us all it was a wind barrier. My mother has always preferred to keep her own blinds shut so she's usually adamant on not looking in other peoples houses.
- After divorcing her first husband my parents took her in until she had somewhere to live. Sarah was insistent on compensating them and our father eventually accepted as she wouldn't let it go. Months later during a heated argument she said they never cared for her, to which they argued that they recently asked her to live with them after her divorce, and without missing a beat she replied calmly "you were well paid for that"
-While our father was in decline he wasn't very verbal and his motor skills weren't the best, one time she brought her and her family out for waffles, she posted a photo of them in the car, and on inspection I noticed he is holding a knife, backwards trying to eat, I still think about this photo regularly because it just angers me that she mostly wanted to be seen taking care of him, without first seeing if he was even able to eat. She documents almost every activity her and her family do, which is fine, but it really calls into question if any of it is for the sake of the activity and trying to capture the moment for her family to remember, or just to be seen doing it. Another instance of this was each morning if it wasn't her turn to stay up for the night shift, the palliative care nurse would arrive Sarah would bring everyone breakfast, but if the nurse wasn't there there'd be nothing, which I know she didn't owe anyone and I shouldn't expect good deeds from people, but she'd also be in to see our father much later those days.
- Once my parents moved into the house, not a week had passed and her and Billy would say things such as "you know we're not your carers so if it comes to it you should have something arranged" and there was always snide comments about how they built their property on her kids play area, suggesting it was an inconvenience and big of her to let them build but I don't think she's ever thought how my parents chose to spend their retirement years with her and her kids. Both my parents had told me this and we were all appalled.
- While our father was unconscious towards the end, my mother just asked Billy about an additional €5 on her utility bill. He said the internet went up and my mother either just asked when or that she didn't know it increased. He left and then 20 minutes or so later, Sarah marched in and loudly exclaimed something like "Do you think Billly is a thief or something?!". This could normally be passed off as a somewhat regular family argument, but it was generally agreed between all of us that my father could still hear us. There were certain reactions when my mother would speak to him, or when I played him his favourite songs, so her choice to start a fight about this with our dying father inches away still infuriates me.
- My mother was an avid gardener, but when she got to Sarah's land she only allowed her to have 4 plant pots at the back of the house. So many times I remember waking up with her already outside, she'd have her visor on with dirt on her clothes waving to me in the kitchen. I've been asking her what plans she has for her garden now it's taking a lot of encouragement from the rest of us for her to get back into it now she has the space.
- When me and my sisters were alone while my father was sick, we were talking about my mother and how she would cope with life when my father passed. He was responsible for everything, bills being paid on time, insurance etc. Her finances came up and Winifred asked the room if she'll have enough coming in to live off. Sarah, with a combined covetous and grudging tone I'll never forget, listed off payments my mother would be getting and ended with a " so she'll be fine" and then scanned the room for our reactions. I immediately responded with "Oh thank god, I was so worried she'd be struggling", shocked by my relieved response she stared at me for a couple of seconds and then shifted to a softer tone "Oh yeah she'll be ok" then changed the subject. I know this is conjecture, but I know my sister. Her repeated mentioning of my parents money and her general obsession with how much people have, I know she was hoping for us all to join in on what I know would have been an acquisitive rant.
- Close to our fathers end, I could only bare to be at the top of his bed. It was too much for me too look at him. This shell of a person, who was so strong in life was now half his body weight and all my family in agony around him. When it got too much for me I'd ask someone (occasionally Sarah) to sit with him while I called my husband for support and to help me through it. I later found out she brought this up against me and said I was a wreck and kept running off and my sleep breaks were too long (I stayed up for 24-30 hours at a time so I was the only one to sleep more than 5 hours). Who is she to monitor how anyone grieves. She could go into Billy whenever it got too much so she had her support system right there.
I'm sure Sarah is a good mother to her children, as they're both always so happy and care free, but Sarah sees the rest of us all as this big stain on her life she's more than happy to wash out. She's said this in some form of another several times to my mother over the past few years, "I don't need any of you, I have my family, they're there for me". I've never been the most involved in all of my sister's life, but I always make sure to never miss a Christmas or birthday for them and I always send money or buy gifts for her children, I've sent her flowers when she was unwell and when she received her diagnosis, but with everything she's done even the idea of keeping up the pretence of civility puts a bad taste in my mouth.
My mother has recently bought a new house and looking at her it's like a light switch has turned back on. I haven't seen her so relaxed and happy since my father was alive. The years living on Sarah's land she barely decorated and never really got comfortable. But the same day of moving in the first thing she did was put up one or two stuffed animals and other trinkets. Our mother decided to keep buying a house a secret to not cause an argument with Sarah as it was too draining and Sarah would make an argument out of anything my mother said. When she had signed the papers she decided to message Sarah to tell her she was leaving (Sarah had decided to not speak with her at all and for months had only spoke to her through Billy, but if my mother was outside while Sarah was with a client she would wave and say hello to her) her response was very nonchalant with a "that's your decision" all of us expected a huge reaction as it was the norm.
A part of me thinks maybe this was her end game all along, not speaking to my mother, not helping her with groceries and never having time to knock on her door to see if she was even alive. Sarah's last words to my father while he was unconscious were that she was going to try and make it work with my mother and my mother promised the same. With 2 kids and a business to run she's always so busy so any text messages my mother would always sign off with "I'm her if you need me, you know I'm always here" and varying ways to let her know the ball was very much in Sarah's court. Myself, Mary and Winifred all have been visiting my mother from hours away so I don't know why she expects my mother to be the one walk 15 meters to her front door, one time my mother tried and she was greeted with Sarah's arm literally blocking the doorway to stop her from coming in. It's my view that Sarah's last words to my father were a complete and utter lie to him, a lie she can never take back or explain and I hope it haunts her.
The way Sarah has acted and the things she has said since my father’s passing it’s obvious she has warped the memory of who my dad was and it couldn't be more wrong. Being the youngest, quiet, and sort of on my own a lot growing up I was always a very observant person. My father worshiped my mother, they were best friends, did absolutely everything together, he always took her side about everything, every argument, every situation, he was her number one fan and it never faltered no matter what, they were always a united front. I know he would be incredibly ashamed and appalled of what Sarah and Billy have put my mother through, squeezing her for every penny, being incredibly cold and not even feigning that they care, although through outside sources she's painted a completely different picture, to which my mother and sisters have used pain remover each and every time. To Sarah, she lost her father and her father only. She is starting chemo soon and sources say things are looking better for her health wise but I'd still like advice.
Thank you.
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2024.05.02 21:40 GABE_EDD Tunnel Visions - Part 3

Part 2
Enough waiting. I had to get help, there weren't any pay phones near that I knew of, but I knew that Tyler's house was just a few streets over. Panting heavily from the exertion and the weight of dread that clung to my every step, I raced through the familiar streets. The urgency was palpable in the way my heart hammered against my ribs, each throb a reminder of the ticking clock—that Tyler was still out there, possibly in grave danger.
The sun hung low in the sky by the time I reached his house, its once comforting warmth now a mere backdrop to the chilling scenario unfolding. As I bounded up the front steps, I could feel the impending confrontation with Mrs. Jones, Tyler’s mom, who had always regarded our escapades with a wary eye.
Bursting through the door, I found her in the living room, her face etched with concern that immediately morphed into hysteria as she saw the state I was in—mud-stained and frantic.
"Eric, why are you so dirty? Where is Tyler?" she demanded, her voice cracking under the strain of fear.
Struggling to steady my breathing, I blurted out the truth as gently as I could. "Tyler... he’s missing. We were exploring the tunnels under the city, and something went wrong. He... he didn’t make it out with me."
Her face crumpled, hands flying to her mouth as tears welled up in her eyes. Then, as quickly as sorrow had gripped her, it gave way to a fiery anger. "You!" she shrieked, pointing an accusing finger at me. "I always knew your foolish adventures would lead to something terrible. How could you let this happen? You’ve always been the sensible one, Eric! Why didn’t you stop him?"
Her words stung, echoing the guilt that was already gnawing at me. "I tried to keep us safe, Mrs. Jones. I never... I didn’t think—"
"Think? That’s just it, Eric, you didn’t think! You never did when it came to your so-called adventures!" She was pacing now, each step a punctuated throb of her despair and anger. Grabbing the phone, she dialed with shaking hands, her sobs mingling with the dial tone before the call connected.
"Police, please. It’s an emergency. My son Tyler, he’s... he’s missing. My God, he’s gone," she choked out between sobs, her body slumping against the wall as she relayed our address to the dispatcher.
I stood there, helpless, watching her crumble. The guilt was a tangible thing, wrapping its cold fingers around my throat. Tyler’s mom continued speaking into the phone, her voice a mixture of panic and fury, recounting every detail to the police. It was all becoming real, too real, as the gravity of the situation settled around us like a suffocating blanket.
The wail of sirens cut through the suburban quiet, drawing curious neighbors to their windows as two police cruisers pulled up to Tyler's house. The officers' swift movements matched the urgency of the situation, their boots thudding against the pavement as they approached.
A Sergeant, with a stern face and a clipboard in hand, was the first to enter the living room where I stood with Mrs. Jones, who was still visibly shaken. His gaze was sharp, missing nothing, as he took in the scene before turning his attention to me.
"Son, I'm Sergeant Miller. I need you to tell me everything that happened, from the top, and stick to the facts," he instructed, his voice firm but not unkind.
Taking a deep breath, I began to recount the events that had led to Tyler's disappearance, the adrenaline of the escape lending an edge of urgency to my voice. I spoke of our entry into the tunnels, the initial exploration, and the strange occurrences that began to escalate rapidly.
As I delved into the details of whispers and shadows that seemed to pursue us, the Sergeant raised a hand to stop me. "Let's keep it grounded, alright? Focus on what you saw and did, not what you think you heard. We need solid information to work with, not ghost stories."
Feeling a flush of embarrassment, I nodded and shifted the narrative back to the concrete details: the paths we took, the markings we saw, and the layout as best as I remembered. His pen moved quickly across his notepad, jotting down every word.
"Now, about this homeless camp you mentioned," Sergeant Miller interjected, "Did you see any weapons or anything else that could pose a threat? Any signs of recent activity?"
I shook my head, recalling the eerie stillness of the camp. "No, it looked long abandoned. Just some personal belongings and... well, it looked like people had been living there for a while, but we didn't see anyone." It was painful to exclude the hollow figures I had seen on my way out, but I could from his demeanor that he was serious about not wanting to hear "ghost stories."
"Alright," he said, closing his notebook with a snap. "We're going to need to take a look for ourselves. Stay here, we may have more questions for you."
As the Sergeant turned to coordinate with his team, a wave of helplessness washed over me. The reality of the situation was overwhelming: Tyler was still out there, and here I was, unable to convey the true dangers of those dark, whispering tunnels. The weight of my choices, the exploration I had led us into, felt heavier than ever.
The evening air was heavy with a brooding stillness as I watched the police team gather their gear, preparing to delve into the tunnels where Tyler and I had faced the inexplicable. They moved with a brisk efficiency, their lights piercing the twilight as they disappeared into the gaping maw of the storm drain.
I waited in silence, a bystander now to the rescue operation. The minutes stretched into what felt like hours, my every thought haunted by Tyler's fate and the eerie whispers that had seemed so real in the darkness below.
Finally, the team reemerged, their expressions grim and fatigued. They first spoke with Mrs. Jones, out of earshot, but I could tell she was starting to crumble even more. The lead officer approached me, his face set in a line of professional neutrality. "We've covered the area you described," he reported. "Found the camp you mentioned, but there’s no sign of your friend. No one else down there either."
The words hit me like a physical blow, and a cold pit of despair settled in my stomach. How could they not have found anything? The terror we experienced, the shadows, the chilling pursuit—it couldn't have been mere illusions.
"Thank you for checking," I managed to say. The officer gave me a curt nod, and with a brief exchange of commands, the team packed up.
The drive home was a blur. The streets were quiet, too quiet, as if reflecting my internal turmoil. When I finally arrived, the house was dark, my parents already in bed. I annoyed myself with how often I found myself turning on lights. I wandered to my room, the events of the day replaying over and over in my mind.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, the silence oppressive, I was overwhelmed by a profound sense of guilt. Tyler had followed me into those tunnels, his trust in me leading him into danger. And now, he was lost, possibly hurt, while I was here, safe but shattered.
I leaned forward, my head in my hands, the weight of what had happened pressing down on me. Regret gnawed at me, a constant reminder of the choices I had made and where they had led us. The idea that I might never see Tyler again, that I couldn't help him when he needed me most, was unbearable.
I left the light by my bed on all night, the brightness of my room contrasted the darkness of the tunnels in my vivid memories, a darkness that I now knew was filled with unknown threats. But worse than any external darkness was the darkness within, the helplessness and fear that consumed me as I lay awake, waiting for a dawn that felt as though it might never come. If the police can't help Tyler, then I guess I have to.
The silence of the early morning was oppressive as I stood at the threshold of the tunnel entrance once again. The weight of the backpack on my shoulders was a tangible reminder of the decision I'd made—a decision born out of guilt and a relentless sense of responsibility. Inside, the pack was carefully loaded with all the essentials I could think of: flashlights, extra batteries, ropes, and, unbeknownst to my father, his revolver with six rounds. I'd only shot a pistol once before, and the weight in my pack felt like a harbinger of the risks I was about to face.
The cool dawn air did little to ease the tension that knotted in my stomach as I stared into the yawning black mouth of the tunnel. The endless darkness, now more ominous than ever, seemed to mock my resolve. But the thought of Tyler, somewhere in the dark, possibly hurt or worse, propelled me forward. I couldn't—wouldn't—just wait and hope for the best. Not again.
With a deep breath that did nothing to calm my racing heart, I secured the revolver to my hip and clicked on my flashlight, its beam slicing through the darkness. The familiar contours of the tunnel greeted me like the visage of an old enemy. As I stepped inside, the cool, musty air of the underground enveloped me, carrying with it the faint, unpleasant smell of damp and decay.
The first landmark I passed was the abandoned homeless camp we'd discovered on our initial descent. The remnants of life, now eerily silent and devoid of human presence, whispered secrets I no longer wished to hear. I shivered, not just from the chill of the underground but from the echoes of our past laughter, now overshadowed by the memory of our frightful escape.
Each step was measured, my mind replaying the mental map we'd inadvertently charted on our first journey. I tried to recall every turn, every landmark that could lead me back to Tyler. My light flickered across the soot-stained walls, catching on sharp angles and throwing long shadows that danced just out of sight.
The sound of my own footsteps became a dull, rhythmic drum in the vast silence, punctuated only by the occasional drip of water from the ceiling. It was a sound I'd become all too familiar with, a reminder of the hours I had spent wandering these corridors. But now, alone, each echo seemed to carry a weight far heavier than before.
The tunnel ahead narrowed as I advanced, my boots splashing against a shallow stream of water that trickled along the tunnel floor. Initially clear, the water began to take on a sinister hue as I moved forward. My flashlight's beam revealed a gradual shift in color from murky to a dark, unsettling red. Alarm bells rang in my head, but the drive to find Tyler pushed me onward, urging my feet to tread paths that my heart screamed to avoid.
With each step, the air grew thick with a miasma that clawed at the back of my throat—a putrid mixture of damp, decay, and something far worse. The source of the stench wasn't far ahead. The beam of my flashlight, usually a beacon of security, now felt like an omen as it illuminated a horrifying sight.
There, lying against the damp wall of the tunnel, was a body. The clothes were ragged, soaked through with the dark red that had tainted the water, making it clear that whatever had happened here had not been a mere accident. I approached with trepidation, my mind racing with every possible scenario but hoping against all odds that it wasn't Tyler.
Kneeling beside the corpse, I inspected the clothing and remnants of features, trying to push past the wave of nausea that hit me. The clothes were nothing like what Tyler had been wearing when we parted ways; these were darker, heavier, like something a vagrant might find in the depths of a dumpster. The face, what was left of it, bore no resemblance to Tyler's. Relief at not finding Tyler here mingled with a deeper horror at the thought of what else might lurk in the shadows of this underground maze.
Turning away from the grim discovery, a tug of responsibility pulled at my conscience. This had been Tyler's adventure, his plan, yet abandoning him to whatever fate lay in the murk of these tunnels felt like an unthinkable betrayal of everything our friendship stood for. Despite the gnawing fear and the logical screaming in my head to leave, I couldn't.
My flashlight sliced through the darkness, revealing more of the tunnel's relentless twists and turns. As I progressed, I stumbled upon an oddly familiar sharp turn leading into a narrower corridor. My heart hammered against my ribs as I navigated the bend, only to freeze in shock at what lay beyond.
It was door. But this was no ordinary door; it was a bookshelf cunningly designed to camouflage into the concrete walls of the tunnels, standing ajar on heavy hinges. This revelation sent a jolt through me. This was the spot. The very place where I had last seen Tyler, where he had vanished without a trace behind what I had thought was a dead end. He must have run through this secret door and it closed behind him!
The open secret door was a chilling invitation back into the mystery that had swallowed my friend. The realization that Tyler had possibly discovered and ventured through this hidden passage before his disappearance was both a beacon of hope and a dark omen of the dangers that lay ahead. With a mixture of dread and determination, I stepped through the threshold, my mind racing with possibilities of what might lie beyond in the shadowy depths. I took off one shoe and jammed it under the door in an attempt to make sure it doesn't close behind me as well.
As I stepped cautiously through the corridor, my senses heightened, each sound amplified by the echo off the stone walls. The passage twisted upward, the stones underfoot worn smooth by age or use. The air grew colder, a chill that seeped through my clothes, clinging to my skin. With each step, the passageway seemed to narrow until it opened unexpectedly into a large, open space.
I paused at the threshold, peering into the dim interior illuminated by shafts of light filtering through stained glass. My eyes slowly adjusted, revealing rows of pews lined up before an ornate altar. The stained glass windows depicted various religious scenes with angels and other ethereal figures, casting colorful patterns on the stone floor. It was a church!
Silence enveloped the space, the kind of silence that presses against your ears, almost tangible in its intensity. No dust motes danced in the light, no sign of recent activity. It was as if the church was suspended in time, waiting for a congregation that had long since vanished. I spent a while closely listening and slowly looking around the room to ensure it was as vacant as I thought it was.
I approached one of the windows, trying to peer through the colorful panes to discern any signs of life outside. The glass distorted the view, but it was clear enough to confirm my location in the middle of town. Yet, this revelation brought me no closer to finding Tyler. If anything, it only deepened my confusion of this place.
With a heavy heart, I turned away from the quiet sanctuary. The church, while a marvel, was not my goal. Tyler was still out there, somewhere in the labyrinthine tunnels below. Steeling myself against the unnerving calm of the church, I retraced my steps to the stone corridor, the echo of only one of my footsteps a stark contrast to the silence above, and a reminder to grab my shoe. The descent back into the tunnels felt like a descent back into madness, leaving behind the inexplicable peace of the church for the unknown dangers that awaited.
Pushing deeper into the murky tunnels, my heart hammered against my ribs, a relentless drum in the chilling silence. Suddenly, a figure loomed in the reach of my flashlight. It was a large man, moving away slowly, his back to me, hunched and unhurried. But the moment my light caught him, he snapped to attention, spinning around with alarming agility.
Before I could react, he was upon me, his bulk slamming into my chest and sending us both to the wet, cold ground of the tunnel. His weight pinned me down, his eyes wild, maniacal. "THANK THE LORD!" he screamed, his breath reeking of desperation and decay. "YOU'RE THE GATEWAY! HE HAS CHOSEN ME FOR THE AFTERLIFE!"
His hands scrambled at my holster, seeking the revolver I’d trusted to protect me. I tried to shove him off, but his strength was overpowering, his movements fueled by a frenzied conviction. "GIVE IT TO ME, GATEWAY! MY JOURNEY BEGINS NOW!" he shouted, a twisted joy cracking his voice as he wrestled the gun from my grasp.
I struggled beneath him, panic seizing my limbs. "Stop! No! Please!" My voice was a frantic, desperate plea, lost in the echo of the tunnels. I remember in that moment thinking that this was it, my whole life led up to just being shot in a storm drain, I had taken the gift of life and thrown it away by voluntarily going somewhere I shouldn't be.
His face, inches from mine, was a mask of divine rapture. "THANK YOU, GOD, THANK YOU!" he reiterated, his fingers trembling as they wrapped around the revolver. "BY GOD'S GRACE, TODAY, I ASCEND!"
The revolver clicked as he cocked it, pressing it against his temple. My breath hitched, my body froze; the situation spiraled beyond my control. The anticipation was suffocating, the weight of what was about to happen unbearable.
And then, the deafening roar of the gunshot reverberated through the tunnel, a terrifying blast that echoed off the stone walls. The man’s body jerked once with the force of the bullet, then slumped lifelessly, his dead weight collapsing fully onto me. I realized I hadn’t considered how loud a gunshot would be in such a confined space. The smell of gunpowder and blood mingled in the air, a stark, metallic scent that would haunt me.
Lying there, pinned under the man’s body, the reality of what had just occurred was overwhelming, a brutal reminder of the dangers lurking in these shadows.
With my ears still ringing from the gunshot, I shoved the lifeless body off me. My hands trembled as I pushed against the cold, clammy flesh, the man's blood pooling around us on the unforgiving concrete. I scrambled to my feet, my breaths shallow and ragged, the echo of the gunshot still bouncing off the tunnel walls. The metallic scent of blood filled the air, and my stomach churned. My head spun as the reality of what had just occurred sank in—a man had just taken his life right on top of me.
Panic gripped me, an invisible hand tightening around my chest. My heart raced, and a cold sweat broke out across my forehead. Each shadow in the tunnel seemed to move, and the silence was now oppressive, threatening. The revolver lay next to the man's outstretched hand. With hesitant fingers, I picked it up, the metal cold and slick against my skin. I sat there, hyperventilating in shock for a long while, unable to find it in myself to get back up.
Holding the gun tightly, I forced myself to move forward. I decided that after that encounter, the revolver was going to be in my hand, ready at all times. The tunnel seemed to close in around me, the walls whispering secrets in a language made of shadows and fear. As I ventured deeper, my flashlight caught something on the walls—crosses, crudely etched into the concrete, smeared with what looked unmistakably like blood. Each cross seemed to watch me, their presence a chilling testament to the darkness that had unfolded in these depths.
"What does this mean?" I murmured to myself, the question hanging in the damp air. Was I dealing with a cult, or the actions of one deranged individual who believed they were performing some twisted ritual? The uncertainty of it all gnawed at my mind. My resolve hardened with each step, the weight of the revolver in my hand a constant reminder of the stakes at play.
The tunnel broadened unexpectedly, its walls giving way to an arrangement that unsettled me deeply. Wooden pews, aged and stained with bodily fluids, lined the expanding corridor. My flashlight's beam danced across the solemn rows, revealing a scene that was both bizarre and disconcerting.
As I advanced, cautious steps echoing in the hollow space, I encountered figures curled up on the ground beside the pews. Each person was in the fetal position, their faces vacant, eyes glazed over in a distant, unseeing stare reminiscent of the homeless people I’d seen before. None responded to my presence; they seemed lost within themselves, unreachable and profoundly isolated.
My heart pounded as I approached each figure with trepidation, gently shining light on their faces in hopes of finding Tyler. None stirred with a bright light shone directly into their eyes, their bodies motionless and unresponsive. The realization that none of these figures was Tyler brought both relief and a deepening sense of urgency.
Then, slicing through the oppressive silence of the tunnel, the whispers returned. They were faint at first, as if resuming an interrupted conversation. The murmurs grew clearer, a chorus of indecipherable chants that seemed to emanate from the very walls around me. Each step forward felt heavier, the whispers intensifying as if aware of my growing fear.
As I moved deeper into the tunnel, surrounded by the eerie congregation of lifeless figures and the relentless whispering, I fought to keep my composure. The line between reality and nightmare blurred, and the whispers seemed to be closing in, a psychological torment that tested every ounce of my resolve.
In the suffocating darkness of the tunnel, an ominous dark red glow began to illuminate the path in the distance, casting eerie, dancing shadows on the damp walls. My heart raced as I approached cautiously, the unsettling light painting everything in a sinister hue.
As I moved forward, the sound of weeping sliced through the still air—a woman's cries echoing with a haunting, bone-chilling sorrow. My steps slowed, every sense heightened, as the source of the sobbing entered the beam of my flashlight. It was a nun, her habit tattered and stained, her hands smeared with dark red that matched the ominous glow in the distance.
Her eyes, wide and frantic, met mine as she stumbled forward. "Please, help me," she pleaded, her voice cracked with despair. Her hands reached out, trembling and covered in blood, making me step back instinctively.
I hesitated, torn between compassion and survival. "What happened to you?" I blurted, my voice barely above a whisper, maintaining a safe distance.
"I... I don't know," she stammered, looking around as if seeing the tunnel for the first time. "Please, they need help too," she murmured, more to herself than to me.
The situation felt like a trap, every instinct screaming that this was wrong. Yet, her pleading eyes bore into me, a deep sorrow that seemed as genuine as the chilling fear they invoked. "Who needs help? Who are 'they'?" I pressed, needing more answers before I could decide my next move.
She simply shook her head, lost in her own nightmare. The decision lay heavy on my shoulders. Could I really leave her here, in this state? My conscience battled with the cold logic of survival. After a tense moment, I concluded she was no immediate threat—just another victim of whatever madness had taken hold in this place.
"I can't help you," I said, the words tasting bitter. "I need to find my friend. I'm- I'm sorry." My voice was firm, trying to mask the tremor of my own fears.
As I stepped around her, her sobs intensified, a mournful sound that followed me as I continued deeper into the tunnel. I glanced back frequently, half-expecting her to rush at me from behind, but she remained a crumpled figure in the distance, her cries a ghostly lament that echoed off the stone walls.
The red glow grew stronger as I advanced, the tunnel leading me further into the unknown, each step weighed down by the decision I had made. The whispers seemed to murmur in the shadows, blending with the nun’s distant crying, as if the very air disapproved of my choice to leave her behind.
As the red glow deepened, casting an eerie light that painted the tunnel's end, I approached what appeared to be a chamber illuminated by flickering candles. Their red flames threw grotesque shadows on the walls, heightening the foreboding atmosphere. With each step closer, my heart thudded louder, caution and curiosity warring within me.
Gripping the revolver firmly, I peeked around the edge of the doorway, the cold metal reassuring against my palm. The room revealed itself slowly to my anxious eyes: it was outfitted with several jail-like cells with barred doors, and a smattering of sparse, utilitarian furniture—a table and a few chairs—that gave it a chilling semblance of normalcy.
But what caught my attention and sent a surge of hope through me was the sight of a backpack sprawled on the table. It wasn't just any backpack—it resembled Tyler’s, but it was too far away to tell for sure. The room was ominously silent, abandoned, or so it seemed. I stepped inside, the air thick with the scent of candle wax and a faint, unsettling musk of decay.
With each tentative step, I moved closer to the first cell, my flashlight's beam slicing through the dimness to reveal a hunched figure curled up in the shadows. The sight of the malnourished form, so withdrawn from the world it didn’t even register my presence, sent a chill down my spine. I paused, the reality of this place pressing heavily upon me—every corner held a story of despair.
I continued down the row, the next cell offering an even grimmer tableau. Inside lay a woman dressed in the remnants of a nun’s habit, her body motionless, sprawled across the cold floor. The scene was macabre, her once-white attire now tattered and blood-stained, telling tales of her final struggles. I almost started to feel numb to it all.
Nearing the table at the center of the room, I hesitated, scanning the shadows for any sign of movement. The silence was deafening, the only sound my own labored breathing and the faint drip of water from somewhere in the depths of the tunnel. Confirming the area was clear, I approached the table, my heart pounding in my chest as I recognized Tyler's backpack.
The familiar patches and scuffs on the fabric were now marred by dark, ominous stains—blood had soaked into the canvas, drying to a rusty brown. My hands trembled as I opened the zipper, revealing nothing but the hollow interior, stripped of all its contents. The realization hit me with the weight of a boulder—Tyler’s disappearance was no simple mishap; something violent had occurred here.
As I stood there, the empty backpack in hand, doubts swirled violently in my mind. Was Tyler still alive? Could I find him before it was too late, or was I too late already? The questions multiplied, each more haunting than the last, my sanity flickering like the dim candlelight that filled the room.
The echoes of a faint whisper sliced through the stifling air, dragging my name along the dank walls in a ghostly drawl, "Eeeerrriiiiic." My heart clenched, adrenaline flooding my system as I spun around, the flashlight in my trembling hand casting frantic beams into the dark recesses of each cell. The sound, so human yet so distorted, clawed at the edges of my sanity.
As my light swept across the cells, a pale hand reached out from the shadows, its movement slow and deliberate. My breath hitched, and with cautious steps, I edged closer, the beam of my flashlight trembling as I aimed it inside the cell.
There, in the dim light, lay Tyler, his body a map of bruises and weariness, his eyes dim with pain but alight with the flicker of recognition. He looked up at me, the corners of his eyes glistening with unshed tears—though he'd never admit to them. "Eric," his voice was a raspy whisper, as if every word scraped against raw pain.
The sight of him, so broken yet enduring, ignited a storm of emotions within me—relief clashed with horror, joy bled into rage. Kneeling down by the bars, I clutched the cold metal, my voice barely above a whisper. "Tyler, how do we get you out of here?" My eyes scanned the lock, the simplicity of its design mocking the complexity of our plight.
Tyler's gaze fixed on me, his voice weak yet filled with a wry chuckle. "How've you managed to dodge them for so long? Where did you get a gun?" he asked, a hint of his old fire dancing in his tired eyes.
I paused, the weight of my brief escape and return pressing down on me. "I left the tunnels... I told the police, they searched but- they never found you. So I had to come back. I couldn't leave you here," I confessed, the truth laying bare the depth of our friendship. In this dire moment, the walls we'd built around our fears and hopes seemed to crumble, revealing the raw core of our bond.
Tyler nodded slowly, understanding and gratitude mingling in his gaze. The simplicity of my decision—to return for him—spoke louder than any promise ever could. Here, in the shadows of our darkest adventure, the strength of our friendship was not just tested, but reaffirmed.
Tyler's attempt at humor flickered faintly in the dim light of the cell, a stark contrast to the bleak surroundings. "I'd stand up and salute you for coming back, but..." He gestured weakly to his battered body, the joke a shadow of his usual spirit.
I rubbed my forehead, tension knotting my muscles. "We might be able to get out through the church—it's closer than the main entrance," I suggested, desperation edging my voice as I remembered the short distance from the church to the outer world.
Tyler's face blanched, his voice sharp with panic. "No, not the church, Eric. I can’t—I won’t go back there. You don't want to know what goes on in there." His eyes darted fearfully around, as if the mere mention might summon horrors from the shadows.
"It was empty when I looked earlier. Maybe it still is," I reasoned, trying to infuse some of my resolve into him. The revolver felt heavy in my hand, a tangible symbol of my commitment to get us out. "And I’ve got the revolver. We can defend ourselves if we need to."
But Tyler shook his head, the terror unmistakable in his voice. "Eric, there are so many of them. You got what- six bullets? They might stop six of them, if you're lucky. What then?" His question hung in the air, heavy with the implication of our dire odds. I didn't have the heart to tell him I was down to five bullets, or why.
His words chilled me more than the damp air of the tunnels ever could, painting a stark picture of the reality we faced. The revolver, once a comforting weight, now felt pitifully inadequate against the unseen threats lurking in the shadows.
As we stood there, time pressing down on us with the weight of the dark, damp air, I knew we couldn't waste another moment. The lock on Tyler's cell was a crude, simplistic padlock, rusting at the edges—perhaps not insurmountable. Tyler, observing closely despite his weakened state, murmured, "Maybe if you can find something stiff enough, I could try picking it."
Scanning the room with urgency, my eyes settled on the neglected table scattered with the remnants of a meal long gone. Among the clutter were some old, dirty plates and silverware. It was a long shot, but it was all we had. I grabbed a fork, its metal slightly bent. Carefully, I preserved one prong while bending back the others, then I smashed the lone prong against the stone floor to give it a small picking tip, creating a makeshift lock pick.
Handing the rudimentary tool to Tyler, I felt a flicker of hope stir between us. Tyler hoisted himself up with a grimace of pain. He reached through the cold bars, his fingers deftly working at the lock. "Hurry, man," I whispered, my voice tight with anxiety. I kept glancing down the dimly lit corridor, waiting for a shadow to solidify into another cultist.
"They don't come here often, Eric," Tyler murmured, focusing on the lock. "They've only come down here once to toss what they think is food into the cells." His words, though intended to reassure, sent a chill down my spine.
The tension was palpable, a thick silence punctuated only by the clicks of the lock as Tyler manipulated the makeshift tool. Then, a soft but distinct click sounded—music to my ears. "Got it," Tyler said, a wry smile touching his lips despite his haggard appearance. "Too easy," he joked weakly, the levity a stark contrast to our grim surroundings.
I quickly opened the cell door, and Tyler, with a deep, pained breath, leaned heavily on me. It seemed like he couldn't hold up his own weight and was entirely relying on me to hold him up. Immediately, I began thinking about how difficult it was going to be to make it out of here with him like this.
"We've got to move, Ty," I urged, my voice low. The relief of having the cell door open was overshadowed by the looming threat of what lay beyond our makeshift sanctuary. As we stepped out of the cell, the cold air of the tunnel seemed to press against us, a reminder of the challenges that still awaited.
This moment, this brief victory of escape, was just the beginning of a longer, more perilous journey. As we shuffled forward, each step was a silent testament to our resilience, our refusal to succumb to despair. The part of me that had almost given up hope began to stir, bolstered by Tyler's presence beside me. We were together in this, no matter what lay ahead, and that was enough for now.
submitted by GABE_EDD to creepcast [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 21:36 DesignerRelative1155 Thank you to the kind Sedona woman if anyone knows her!

We are late on posting this thank you but the other day my husband said he wished he could thank the woman we ran into in the Safeway parking lot last August and we just thought maybe to try here.
We were making a mad dash drive back home to Los Angeles from Pennsylvania with a detour to Mississippi to pick up a rescue dog. We decided to detour to Sedona and had just finished a long day of driving. While I went into the store, husband was sitting on a rock in the parking lot with his head hung down tired from the drive with the kids and dog and looking disheveled (with his long hair he says “my usual disheveled and just crushed from driving”). He had the dog on the leash and he was very thin having just come out of rescue and still very timid and scared. In retrospect it painted a very desolate picture.
A very kind woman came up and gave him a macaroni and cheese dish she had purchased for him and a bone treat for the dog. It caught my husband off guard and he was tired. He says his answer didn’t properly convey how absolutely kind the gesture was and he now wishes he could properly thank her for watching out for another human being and tell her that he thinks often of her gesture when he comes across an unhoused individual here in Los Angeles and he makes the effort to offer what he can at the movement. He carries water bottles in his truck, dog food and bully sticks in her honor.
So we just hoped someone on here has heard a woman tell the story of the dude with the wild hair and skinny dog in the parking (edited for typo) lot of Safeway that she tried to help but he seemed rude. If so please tell her it still resonates with us and thank you.
Dog tax photo
submitted by DesignerRelative1155 to Sedona [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 21:29 Osmium86 How big are the power bowls *supposed* to be?

The advertisement picture shows the food going up to the rim of the bowl and then the loose ingredients like lettuce pile up in a mound on the top. The past several times I ordered one of the $8 cantina chicken bowls there's 1/3 that much food. It's literally like they unwrapped a burrito into the bowl. Is there some standard from Taco Bell HQ that standardizes how many ounces of food they're supposed to contain? I otherwise have a good relationship with my local TB and don't want to lodge a complaint if this is the new normal. The old power bowls were a meal and they're currently a side dish. I'd still buy them at $8 if I didn't have to buy 3 tacos alongside one.
submitted by Osmium86 to tacobell [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 21:26 OkCoast5881 had to move out - roommates refuse to clean

had to move out before lease was up. roommates let food rot in the fridge, bugs, roaches, and rats in the refrigerator and cupboards. (rat droppings and bugs were found all over, in food, everywhere). it got to a point where i couldn’t keep cleaning up after everyone so i just dipped. i left about 6 months back and have only been there a handful of times since. super unfair and unfortunate. i really trusted these guys and they effectively destroyed the place. i’ve never had chronic illnesses, but i began getting very sick on a frequent basis. ironically, the other roommates are sick on a frequent basis. when i mentioned that it might have something to do with eating bugs and rat droppings, they refused that to be the cause.
some things to notice: yes. that is a cake tin on the couch. i left for two months, came back, and it was in the exact same spot lmao. the bugs seen in these picture are the dead ones/ barely alive ones. the live bugs are in the food. 😀 90% of the clutter in the living room is from one person who has been asked by everyone to please remove the clutter. i realized far too late that they were a full blown hoarder /: i am at a point where i think they could have a severe clinical issue and are incapable of tackling it. so, im trying to be courteous to that. but still…
i had to omit some images for personal/legal reasons, but some extra things not being seen here are as follows: fruit and veggies left in the living room for weeks until they rot. horrible fruit fly issue as of recently. trash tossed on the floor, discarded on the couch or tables. the laundry room is a complete disaster, bad detergent spill that they did not clean for months. trash and litter fees (they won’t bag trash before bringing it out, so the trash guys don’t take it, it ends up all over the sidewalk). the sink is always filled to the brim with dishes and food (the rats love the sink). stove top always has dirty cookware that gets left there for days (the rats love the stove). ice cream cake that melted in the freezer, which left the entire inside covered in brown, thick chocolate.
and worst of all… the fucking smell.
glad i left this bs. hope they get their health and space in order. i already surrendered to the fact that im not getting that security deposit back lmao.
submitted by OkCoast5881 to badroommates [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 21:16 Sharp-Collection-297 Amazigh or Maghrebi people, what Culture you find interesting outside your own ?

Amazigh or Maghrebi people, what Culture you find interesting outside your own ?
I know this question is not at all about Amazigh people, but i was curious to know what other cultures you learned about or watched videos about on the internet, that you like other than your own culture. For example me, i find Japanese culture (Edo period), Native American Sioux and Australian Aboriginal culture to be quite intriguing. Share with us, what cultures you find amusing; they could be particular African, American, Arab, European or Asian ? or are you one of the people who exclusively only likes his own culture from his own region and city ? or you like a certain culture from a neighboring country or another region the Maghreb ? Tell us also what you Like about them, their music, art, food, technology ..etc ?
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2024.05.02 21:16 SerenaTheAxolotl Eevee distribution system

Eevee distribution system submitted by SerenaTheAxolotl to PokeMedia [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 21:13 thesciencegang Tongkat Ali: Benefits, Dosage & Side effects

Tongkat Ali: Benefits, Dosage & Side effects
Tongkat ali is an herbal remedy that has been used in traditional Southeast Asian medicine for centuries. It has been found to potentially boost male fertility, relieve stress, improve mood, and enhance body composition. However, research on its benefits is still limited. It is important to note that the European Food Safety Authority has issued a warning about tongkat ali's potential to induce DNA damage. In this article, we will explore the benefits, possible side effects, and proper dosage of tongkat ali.
Read The Full Article: Tongkat Ali: Benefits, Dosage & Side effects
https://preview.redd.it/qe8lxgckb2yc1.jpg?width=1344&format=pjpg&auto=webp&s=2cf54d07f5e574c279b6f5d70ab11019bda81355
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2024.05.02 21:12 Tolerance-Zero Dealing with Hypothyroidism at 21

Hello everyone. I've been meaning to reach out to this subreddit for a while, but due to the overbearing anxiety and worry about it, I didn't until now. I'm in a very bad spot in my life.
With my recent diagnosis of hypothyroidism couple months back, the rapid weight gain ( For reference I was 119 lb for most of my life until I turned 20 years old, now I'm at 175 lb which I can't lose at all no matter what I eat and no matter how much I exercise.) and the overbearing anxiety what my partner thinks of me, everything has just been stressing me out. Knowing I can't eat my favorite foods anymore and I have to limit myself to so much has made me very depressed. Also, finding a job in my country has been very difficult and adding to my overlapping pile of stress. Whenever I'm exposed to heat, or if I stand up for long periods of time, my legs swell up really badly and it really hurts, I shouldn't have to be dealing with this at my age, especially how I'm so young and it makes me severely insecure. The last doctor I went to didn't believe me and said I was just lying about my legs swelling up, and I was just wasting his time. I just feel extremely old physically, no wonder what I try to improve myself. It just ends up backfiring me on the end.
I don't even feel like myself anymore, I just want to hide away, and honestly I need the advice from people also in their 20s, how do you deal with the stresses and overbearing thoughts about your hypothyroidism diagnosis, to cope even? I just feel extremely alone, and at this point I kind of feel envious about my partner's health. He's picture perfect healthy with no issues whatsoever. I wish I could be just as healthy as I was when I was younger. I feel like such a burden on him since my diagnosis....
submitted by Tolerance-Zero to thyroidhealth [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 21:07 Life-Reporter-8590 Help finding my dad

Idk how well this works but I'm trying to find my dad. It's been a secret held from me and it's hard trying to find someone with an Asian name. I have a picture but Google image search doesn't really help. Idk if anyone has any sort of insight on how to go about this?
submitted by Life-Reporter-8590 to RBI [link] [comments]

2024.05.02 21:07 CreateJericho 💚 Chill Adult Chat - We're just a bunch of adults(over 25s average is around 30-35) that hang out and play some chat based games, no toxic chatters allowed💯

🕵️ Looking to spice up your online social life? Join Chamber Of Secrets, the ultimate server to hangout with chill people and make new friends. Don't miss out on daily interactions with our ever-growing community of friendly and welcoming individuals. We are strictly 25+ only
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https://discord.gg/K25NVqETer
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2024.05.02 21:06 CreateJericho 💚 Chill Adult Chat - We're just a bunch of adults(over 25s average is around 30-35) that hang out and play some chat based games, no toxic chatters allowed💯

🕵️ Looking to spice up your online social life? Join Chamber Of Secrets, the ultimate server to hangout with chill people and make new friends. Don't miss out on daily interactions with our ever-growing community of friendly and welcoming individuals. We are strictly 25+ only
🎮 We offer a wide range of exciting activities, from voice chats and games like Connect 4, Uno, Blackjack, and Scramble, to fun bots that bring weather updates, horoscopes, and general amusement. Share your selfies and showcase your talents in our chatters-got-talent section. We even have a pet chat where you can show off your furry friends!
🎶 Seek solace in our music bots and listen to your favorite tunes over voice chats with us. Unlock your inner foodie in our food-chat, exchange cooking tips, and explore the world of fashion in our fashion-chat. Stay fit with us by participating in our work-out challenges. There's never a dull moment at Chamber Of Secrets!
📸 Discover the world through the eyes of our members in our photography-room, where you can share breathtaking pictures from various corners of the globe, or simply engage in delightful conversations with our diverse community.
🎉 Whether you're into music, games, or simply chilling out with your pets, Chamber Of Secrets has got something for everyone. Our average age is around 30, making us a perfect fit for individuals in their mid-twenties and above. Join us and be a part of a truly unique and welcoming community. We can't wait to meet you! 🌟
https://discord.gg/K25NVqETer
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