If you block someones phone number on verizon wireless what does it say

My idea is this: Stellar Wind is pretty much an incredibly self serving ability. He is a SUPPORT character, and as we all know the term "support" does not explicitly mean healer. A support character can help with earning the team eliminations as well as healing. They can apply shields to others with cards on certain abilities. They have numerous CC abilities to either slow down enemies, or completely hold them in place. There are a number of champions whose ability animations make it seem like they should be doing more than the ability description allows. Although it's a bit of a sidenote, Inara is a great example. Her wall, when activated, can apply knockup to herself (with supporting cards), but not her enemies. While it clearly accelerates quickly enough from the ground to do this, it also applies no damage. Sidenote aside, I think it would be an interesting and sensible addition to add an extra effect to Jenos'Stellar Wind that will allow him to temporarily boost the movement speed of allies within a certain radius upon activation of the ability. If you think about it, it's a "wind" based ability, and while the air beneath his feet is affected by this ability, the wind attribute implies that the influence of the ability could be expanded to the air further surrounding him. This change could offer you the chance for you and an ally to rescue someone who is in trouble on point, allow another of your support abilities, Void Grip, to be more useful when you and an ally are chasing down a fleeing enemy, as well as assist allies who need to disengage from a fight quickly in order to take cover and be healed. It will allow for more tactical positioning of your allies at a faster pace, letting them move somewhere faster, even if it's not in the direction you're headed. I will set up a limited example now: Map: Bazaar Mode: Siege Scenario: You as Jenos are under the gate in front of the capture point. There is an Inara under attack on point, trying to contest, however, she is outnumbered and you do not have the capacity to change that fact. A friendly Bomb King has returned from spawn and is now next to you. You activate Stellar Wind, allowing them to quickly move to a flanking position on the side of the capture point, and you move in the opposite direction, allowing both of you the opportunity to disorient the team while maintaining a safe distance, yourself. The Bomb King is now in position to stun enemies near the Inara, and begin the offensive, maybe 1 second sooner, as you cast your heal on the Inara. Some enemies might back off, others might try to attack the solo Bomb King or you, who has been isolated from your group. Scenario 2, same map and initial situation: You're able to apply a heal to the Inara through the wall, she is able to use Impasse to block a couple of sources of incoming damage, and as you get within range, you activate Stellar Wind, applying a movement speed bonus to Inara, allowing her to quickly move around the corner of a wall, and escape to safety so that she may begin to heal.
So, as you can see, this has the potential to SUPPORT (and this is the key word here) your allies by offering them additional maneuverability options during combat. Whether it's ultimately an offensive or defensive measure is left up to the discretion of the player. Although the duration of the effect, the bonus % of the effect, and the radius of the effect will have to be workshopped a bit, I believe he CAN do more to SUPPORT his teammates, primarily by allowing his Stellar Wind to be more than just a way to retreat quickly, jump to greater heights, or to close in for an elimination. I would like to know what you all think about the idea of some abilities doing much less than what they seemingly COULD do. Jenos' Stellar Wind and Inara's Impasse are two prime examples of abilities that I personally think could do more, given the nature or animation of the ability, but just don't.

Previously, on rewatcher's diary: https://www.reddit.com/buffy/comments/1crl8ks/rewatchers_diary_season_2_episodes_8_to_10/
On today's menu: Ted (2x11), Bad Eggs (2x12), Surprise (2x13), Innocence (2x14).
The quick thoughts: Ted is better than I thought, Bad Eggs proves that even bad Buffy is good TV, I was too tired watching Surprise and Innocence but they're as great as I remember them. On to me having too random thoughts, in a random order.
Ted

There's a fun bit where Buffy has had enough of Ted, gets out of the house, sits on a swing(?) and calls out "vaaampires? Heeere, vampires." in a "here, kitty kitty" voice, reminiscent of how Spike called for Buffy in School Hard (2x3). Are we suggesting there's a connection between Spike and Buffy?
When Ted says "you'll spend your best dating days [years?] locked away in a mental institution", that hits harder when you know—from Normal Again (6x17)—that Buffy has already been in an institution.
I enjoy collecting Terminator references. I don't think "he's a robot" is enough to count. Maybe. Dunno.
Giles and Jenny talk about how his past actions ended endangering her in The Dark Age (2x8).
But then Jenny seeking Giles out (while he's out patrolling) results in her endangering and hurting him.
Giles' past actions got someone killed, mirroring how Buffy (according to her beliefs) got Ted killed. It seems the apple doesn't fall far from the surrogate tree.
Buffy being horrified—first at Ted being Ted and being in her life, and then at having killed him—really stuck with me. That's probably my favorite aspect of this episode: those powerful feels.
When Buffy is wailing on Ted and chucking him down the stairs, one wonders whether it didn't stop being self-defense at some point.
On the whole not fantastic, but better than I expected.

Bad Eggs

Willow and Buffy grow suspicious that there's something going on between Xander and Cordelia. Huh, I wonder where this is going.
I had forgotten just how funnily awful the chemistry between Xander and Cordelia is.
In the beginning when Buffy fights one of the Gorch brothers, he does a stunt where his hat falls off while he's falling to the ground and/or is rolling on it, but then he grabs the hat mid-roll and puts it back on before getting up and running away. For my money, that stunt was really fun and a bit cool. He seemed really attached to his hat.
Eggs, chestbursters, mind/motor control, underground vagina monster. Whatever, meh.
Meh.
Oh hey, having sex might have bad consequences. Chekhov's... egg? Foreshadow much?

Surprise

Willow said "date"!
I'm more of a Tillow shipper but man Willoz is so god damn cute. Hush: no rush.
"A: what do you want for your birthday? / B: Surprise me / A: I will". He is truly a man of his word.
Joyce asks "do you really think you're ready", then drops a plate—first in Buffy's dream, then in reality. I think we'll see further repetitions of this motif in S5.
Drusilla with blood in the corner of her mouth (in Buffy's dream) is such a great image.
Gasp, Jenny is not who we thought she was!
Her suggesting Angel should be the one to get The Judge's arm out of the way is a clever move: it will (or rather: would) drive Angel and Buffy apart, but in a way where Jenny has plausible deniability.
"[the flowers:] I can't abide them" — Dru, are you high on your own supply? She's sooo much fun.
Gasp, Buffy and Angel get captured by Drusilla and Spike!
Brian Thompson returns (yay!) to play his second and final role: The Judge.
So what's with the dream and the worry about Drusilla killing Angel? Is there a sense in which she did? I think I can connect the dots partially: in Lie to Me (2x7), Angel reveal a dark truth about how he (er, Angelus) drove Drusilla mad and turned her. Drusilla brought out the monster in Angel(us). What "killed" Angel at the end of Surprise was linked to that: the monster coming back out. Yes, the real trigger was him experiencing a moment of happiness (or maybe relief?) with Buffy, but that only happened because Buffy lied to herself about Angel being covered from head to toe in red flags, and the biggest such red flag was Drusilla. I'm not sure this amounts to "Drusilla was instrumental in bringing out Angelus", but she was... related to it, I guess.
Maybe it just reflects Drusilla's attempt on Angel's (uhhh) life in What's My Line 2 (2x10).

Innocence

Trio of vampires, assemble! Angelus is back!
What is it with trios and even-numbered seasons: trio of vampires, trio of initiative bros, trio of nerds. It's a trio of trios.
Like many others, I like the screen presence of DB-as-Angelus more than DB-as-Angel. Angelus is twisted and evil and awful and... so much fun to watch.
Sticks and stones may hurt my bones but words... actually, it looks to me like it was Angelus' words that cut Buffy the deepest. She looked stone cold when she talked about having to kill Angelus, which was as a consequence of him using sticks and stones.
In the dream sequence, is the implication that they (Buffy, Angelus, Jenny) are looking at Angel's grave? Did I miss a smoking gun on that? I figure it has to be, since that's the thing that makes the most sense—it shows a recent loss of Buffy's; it shows Angelus having arisen from his metaphorical tomb, i.e. from inside Angel; and given the next events (Buffy going to Jenny) the dream must have incriminated Jenny, but that only makes sense if the dream demonstrates she knew something, and the only knowledge that would incriminate Jenny is knowledge about Angel vs. Angelus.
When Angelus comes and grabs Willow (intending to kill her), Xander shows his greatest and most consistent two virtues: courage, and his love of his friends. He grabs the cross and confronts the monster to protect his friend, potentially putting his own life at risk. Xander is not the greatest guy but he does have has a great side, and it's good to see it.
Being brave and taking a cross to Angel(us) mirrors his bravery in Prophecy Girl (1x12), in which he was brave and took a cross to Angel—although taking a cross to Angel wasn't brave in itself, it was part of a bigger act of courage. I'm also thinking of Grave (6x22), during which his courage and his love for Willow saves the day, and there he doesn't even have a cross or other artifact to protect himself. (There are several other instances where we see his love and courage saving the day.)
Angelus betrayed and murdered Angel. It's like poetry, it rhymes with Star Wars. "Darth Liam"?
If we blur the Angel/Angelus distinction a bit, we see someone who's in love with Buffy turn to the dark side—i.e. become corrupt on the inside—and then switch their allegiance from the good guys to the bad guys. That kinda' mirrors Faith going dark starting in Bad Girls (3x14) and then siding with the Mayor.
In the car with Giles, Buffy feels guilty about losing her innocence. (Yes, that was a pun.)
I would be remiss if I didn't mention that rocket launchers are awesome.

Updated episode tier list

S-tier: 7 13 14
A-tier: 9 10
B-tier: 3 6 > 1
C-tier: 8 11 > 5
D-tier: 2 4 > 12

Hi all UPN/Pre-Nursing people! I just wanted to write out some tips on how to look best on your NursingCAS applications for your goal starting semester. This is a pretty detailed guide with some good calculations to determine other scores beyond just the basic impaction score. This also provides some resources for your TEAs that I found most useful. This guide is directed towards those applying to SJSU especially those on the Pre-Nursing Track at SJSU.
Don't flop your first semester: It is true that the first semester of college has a learning curve, but it is still important that you stay focused and maintain a high GPA. For many this is the easiest semester, but don't be fooled English 1A or Chem30A/BIOL65 will bite you in the butt last second.
Aim for a high GPA not solely TEAs: As much as people brag about their TEAs scores a GPA at SJSU is much more important! If you have a 4.0 GPA and score lower on your TEAs you will have a way better shot at getting in. Take this for example: a person got 2 A- in 3 unit courses out of the big 8. This makes their cumulative GPA a 3.94 GPA. If this person applied to nursing against a person with a 4.0 this score is then doubled, for impaction. 8 compared to a 7.88. With 2 A-'s you now need to do better than 3.5% of whatever teas score the kid with a 4.0 got. Also keep in mind that SJSU already requires a 84% to even apply leaving a 16% playing field. If you get a 4.0 and a 84% a person with 3.94 needs to get a 87.5% on their teas!

BE ADVISED EVERY SINGLE POINT COUNTS!
Realistically you are okay and should not flip out with a 3.94 GPA to this is just being used as a clear example. Just remember that if you keep a high GPA that you are saving yourself a mental breakdown before taking a TEAs.
- Be sure to get the extra points as well if you know you don't have perfect stats. This will greatly improve your odds at getting in, especially for Fall applicants.

Don't rely on comparing stats to AllNurses: This is a hot take, but hear me out; 60 kids get into SJSUs nursing program and maybe 10 people post their stats on AllNurses. I am throwing no shade saying this, but these are the people that are for the most part going to get in. Some claim to have 4.0 GPAs, 98 TEAs, 2000hrs of Healthcare experience, and co-reqs done too. Obviously they are going to get in but, that spot is now taken from a person bringing it down to 59 others. It is nice to have a comparison to, but unless more people post on it people are going to have skewed to the right opinions. There are tons of applicants and there are different groups of people apply. The overachievers, the average, and the prayers. Most people are average and do not have the crazy stats these people have. There are some people that do post stats that are more relevant to compare to such as a 4.0 with an 88% or something like that. Again this is highballing and it is important to really dig deep into who got accepted when using this platform. A 92% TEAs is what even the pre-nursing advisors and these guys want you to drop the major. Do realize that if you have a lower GPA you will need a higher TEAs. Doing this calculation [20(4-(current GPA))*3] will tell you what you need in comparison to a 4.0 GPA.

Here is an example with a 3.8GPA [20(4-3.8)*3] = [20(.2)*3] = 4*3 = 12, this means (excluding extra points), you need to score at least a 96% if a kid with a 4.0 got a 84% on their TEAs.
- For understanding the 20 comes from the calculation 10 (to make the solution a whole number) multiplied by 2 (because the GPA is multiplied by two in the impaction score calculation) and the 3 comes from the fact each .1 of a GPA equates to 3% of a persons TEAs score (1/30 = .033333*3 = .1). The 20 contains the multiplication factor of 2 already so we don't need to multiply 3 by 2 as well.

The minimum GPA and TEAs: Yes it is true that if you do have a pretty poor GPA (3.3-3.4) and don't have the TEAs to make up for it then it is probably unlikely you will get into the program. But, at this campus the stats are never posted for who gets in and during which semester. Recently SJSU raised their TEAs from a 78% all the way up to a required 84% which to me is crazy high! I assume this is to cut down the amount of applicants and in turn this makes the TEAs pretty irrelevant to the total stats. With only a 16% max gap, now any person who is able to apply to nursing must have at least that score making the GPA that much more important. If you have a 3.9 GPA and a 94 on your teas, a person with a 3.8 will still get outcompeted regardless of TEAs score. This is most likely why the GPA was lowered for nursing and is now a 3.3 instead the previous 3.4 because some kids may have done well in the GPA aspect and messed up their TEAs. Aim for a higher GPA but do realize that a lot of kids do manage to get really good GPAs that correlate with good TEAs scores. Get a good GPA, 3.8 and above is pretty good, a 3.9+ is quality work for both Fall and Spring semesters, and make sure to aim for higher than the TEAs threshold.Nursing advisors deter people from applying but, it is accurate that as of Fall 2024 that you have to be at the top to get in. Keep in mind that there are 500+ applicants and only 60 get in that is only 12% of the applicant pool. You need to aim for the 80th percentile at the minimum to be on the waitlist first round (beating 400 other applicants)
TEAs Test: Now I know I have talked a lot about the importance of the GPA, but regardless you still do want to do well on the TEAs. Your TEAs score, like I talked about above, is directly related to your GPA. If you got a lower GPA you need a high TEAs and if you got a high GPA you can slack on the TEAs score. If you have a low GPA this will make or break the odds of getting in and every 3% on the test you get a .1 point increase. Going against what I think everyone I have ever talked to has said, for me personally I say take the TEAs online, if that is still an option. Not only can you take the test literally whatever day you want, you can also take it at whatever time of that day you selected as long as a proctor is available. Some argue that the they test better when in a school environment and this is valid, but I also test better in those environments and I bombed my first TEAs due to nerves. When I took it online the only stressors were if the test were to crash or the proctor flagged my exam for no reason, but neither of those happened not even close. The low stress of being at home and taking the test when I wanted to allowed for much better results and comfort. You get to finish the sections when you want. If you think you are done and don't want to triple check your answers to save the brainpower for later sections you get that option. Take the test where you think you will test best though and take these words with a grain of salt. I just wanted to say that the TEAs online is the same content as it is in person and at the leisure of your home. Not many people talk about how the TEAs online is positive for some people!
Get the extra points if you can: The extra points are pretty easy to get at SJSU especially as commuters. Of course nobody can make themselves a first generation student, but if you are that is easy free points and congrats. No one has a clue what SJSU gives as a "bump" to an applicants score and it is honestly only there because everyones stats are so similar so they need more tie breakers. Granted, you will most likely want to win the tie breaker and in order to do you have to at least have all the co-reqs done. I want to be straight up and say I think the vast majority of students have these all completed prior to applying for the Fall because you have an extra semester (maybe not Spring idk). So make sure to have these all completed so you are not left behind and waste an attempt in the SJSU applicant pool(unless you have great stats t or have healthcare hrs instead then just apply). You only have 2 attempts at applying to nursing at SJSU so make them count. If you can, there is also the healthcare hours bump. This is a bump isn't achieved by all applicants and could help if you have lower stats. Keep in mind that this usually involves volunteer work once a week for 4hr shifts so you will be wherever you choose to stay for about 6 months (decent time commitment with school). I've heard that the healthcare hrs are pretty lenient about what exactly you did as long as it is part of the healthcare field and you can get it signed. Of course if you already have had a health job within 3 years this is a free point bump too!
Spring semester isn't as easy to get into as it once was: SJSU changed this policy. In 2023 only transfer students can apply for SJSU fall semester cohorts, no longer accepting post-bacs. Whereas spring semester cohorts will accept post-bacs and no longer accept transfer students. This means that Fall semester likely is getting more difficult to get into as all transfer students have to apply for the same cohort. It is believed that the School accepts a bunch of SJSU students and after the initial acceptance everyone on the waitlist is combined meaning more transfers will get in from the waitlist process as they may not have made the original cut with the SJSU students bump. This would also mean there are less opportunities for SJSU students to get in during the spring cohort as they battle against stronger transfer candidates. As for transfers, in Fall there are more opportunities to get in as more are accepted initally and through the waitlist process. For post-bacs the same process is in place but, since the top UPN students (because they were following the exact track) were picked out for Fall stats could be a little lower. Regardless, Fall semester cohorts I would assume have slightly higher impaction scores from all areas that are applying as most students took their time throughout all the courses and UPN program students are all expected to apply for Fall semester. Take this all with a grain of salt since again there are no exact numbers of all that get accepted as transfers and post-bacs and if these numbers have increased because of this change.
Remember your overall GPA prior to applying does matter: Your overall GPA does matter when applying for nursing at SJSU! When it comes to tiebreakers if everything is the same - the gpa, the teas, and the extra points - the school will look at overall GPAs to decide who gets in. So make sure to get good grades in that moral issues class freshman year because it will come back to haunt you if you don't get in because of it.
Don't Break down!: It is easy to read all of this and think that you are screwed, but it is important to remember that many people are in the exact same situation. We are not all getting 4.0s and 92s on our teas like our advisors tell us we need. Expect A-'s and a B+. No stats are published and nobody knows for sure what you need but the advisors say people get "mostly a's". Aim for the highest impaction score that you can get and don't slack on it because literally that is what is determining if you get in or not.

As a SJSU student you have 2 opportunities to get in, once in Fall (a little more difficult as most SJSU students are on track so there are more of you) and Spring (a little easier just because there are less Pre-Nursing majors applying). So if you don't get in for the Fall and your stats are good, you have a great chance in the Spring
- PS if you do get declined for the Fall get all the extra bumps you can and if you still have one more TEAs opportunity, TAKE IT AGAIN! If you get waitlisted for Fall there is a really good chance you will get in for Spring as the people you were originally going against are gone.

Waitlist: If you get waitlisted it really is not the end of the world. Most schools send out acceptance letters in two waves one at the beginning/mid of April and at the end of April where people accept of decline their schools. SJSU keeps a long waitlist because a lot of people drop the school for more local schools/bigger name schools so never lose hope. I've heard stories of people being #70 on the waitlist and still getting in. (FYI you have to contact someone to check if you were waitlisted you will not get any notice of what is taking so long for your acceptance. only when you are on the waitlist can you contact staff about your placement. Staff will not tell you where you are if you are not emailed by Nursing that you are on the waitlist.)

If you are immediately declined from the school, that means that currently they were unable to offer you a seat. However, this does not mean that you are out yet. The school has an original waitlist and if that gets ran though they create another backup waitlist in case more students drop in the summer. This contains around 12 more students and you could be apart of this group.

EXTRA Info:

Nursing Apps open January 17th for Fall and August 17th for Spring and they both close on the 15th the following month
If you are a current SJSU student you do not need to apply for SJSU again prior to applying
However many units a course is will impact your GPA differently (more units means more of your GPA)
You get about One Week to accept SJSU. SJSU is one of the latest schools to send out acceptance letters so be prepared to wait. 8 Weeks after the deadline is when acceptance letter should begin to roll out.
Acceptances are sent out around April 10th for Fall and November 10th for Spring.

TEAs Studying TIPs:

DM me if you want a google doc with TEAs information (it won't let me put it here) it provides, in my opinion, the best ways to study for the TEAs. For me personally I only received a 93.3 but, if I had realized how vital one of the sources before I took the test the next day, I would have performed even better! Please give this a look. If you dont want you I'll put the order of importance here without links
- 1 Quizlets, #2 the ATI website, #3 Miscellaneous Prep Tests (I provide links in the doc), #4 PocketPrep

Application Assistance:

Submit all documents separate from each other
The application pool is Not Rolling meaning you can apply at any time before the deadline and still not be penalized
Whatever work experience you have will not change the size of the score bump i.e a hospital volunteer will get the same size bump as a person with a CNA.
- You also do not need any letters of recommendation and don't need to fill out any extra information on the NursingCAS website for SJSU specifically. They will not read any paragraphs that are not relevant to you getting accepted.
AP credit does not affect the GPA it is solely for credit. If the AP course is not listed on your transcript then you must submit a form proving you passed the exam in the "other" section.
- Make sure that all your documents that need to be there are there and they will be seen and accounted for. Regardless of where you put the documents the will show up on the application.
Download you application prior to submitting your application (they will let you do this after you finished all the documents uploading and are preparing to finalize). Look over everything to ensure it's all correct.

I know this whole process is stressful and pretty terrifying, but everyone has a chance. This is just what I have learned throughout the whole process and hopefully it will help others that have 0 clue what is going on. Although some of this may make it seem like you need to have crazy high stats I am just trying to say do your best. If SJSU ever posts the stats for accepted applicants this would a be a different story. This is a CSU so unfortunately this application does follow the "a single number means everything" this means your impaction score is who you are; not necessarily how well rounded you may be. Good luck to all future nursing applicants and congrats.
"Congratulations! This email is to inform you of your provisional acceptance to The Valley Foundation School of Nursing at San José State University" Fall
You can DM if you have any questions.

This may be long but if you are willing to read all of it and understand my situation I would really appreciate it as I’m going through a lot mentally and don’t know what to do. met this girl online around late October of 2022. She lived in a different state to me and we instantly clicked. We would FaceTime basically every night make eachother laugh and smile and have the best time even on the phone. Eventually after 3 months she visited me for 6 days paying for her own flight. Later did I find out that the day after she left to go back home. She went to a party got drunk and cheated on me. I however was hiding my phone from her when she had flew over here because I was doing the exact same thing and she could tell. A week after she left I did the exact same thing and cheated. I never thought I would see her again. We continued to talk for about a month and a half over FaceTime. And then I ended our talking stage. We stopped talking and A month after that (may 2023) she moves to my city and plays it off like she just wanted to move here because she liked it even tho it was pretty obvious it was because of me. I was still sleeping with other women as we had no boundaries and were just friends. At one point (June 2023) I had even gone to the club hooked up with two girls and then gone back to her house to hook up with her (as friends). Around the start of august we started to get really close and I started to really appreciate her for moving here to try and get me back (which she wouldn’t admit till we started dating) and in September we started dating. I had genuinely fallen in love with this girl and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. She’s the only one I’ve ever clicked with. She would do everything I say clean cook we had great sexual chemistry. I’ll spare the rest but. in November of 2023 I found out she cheated back in February a day after she left from seeing me for the first time. We wernt dating but we were talking and had boundaries. It absolutely killed me. I found out by messaging someone she had blocked who then told me. Which she denied and said he was trying to flirt with her and she denied him. I honestly believed it because this guy was so overweight and pretty unattractive. But it never left my mind. I would constantly pester her about it asking her if she’s lying or telling the truth and eventually she admits that she kissed Him once then pulled away and that when she went back to her friends house after were they were all staying for the night she fell asleep and woke up to him with a condom on, turned her over a slightly put it in before she pushed him off and said I’m talking to someone please leave. She did admit she turned over willingly and as soon as she felt something she stopped it. Who knows if any of it is true tho. She also went to extreme lengths to try and hide it from me. Like telling the party host to lie to me the party hosts bf ect which they all showed me proof of her saying via text. I loved this girl so much and she still loves me. It was so long ago and we wernt dating I wasn’t ever planning on dating her either. But after she moved here for me and we got closer I fell in love with her. And now I am absolutely broken. At the end of the day I have done so much worse and the only reason she cheated was because I was obviously doing the same thing. I just can’t get over it I really loved her. She Sacrificed her family just to move here and try and get me back and made me feel so loved. What should I do

Hi!
I really don’t know where to start with this one. It’s definitely going to be a long post as I don’t want to miss on any potentially crucial detail, hence apologies for posting something this long.
Here’s my best attempt at summarizing what happened without losing on any detail (feel free to ask for clarification if anything isn’t clear):

I bought a proxmark3 rdv4 as part of a kit which also comes with several of its accessories from an online website selling these kinds of things.
When I received it, I noticed several smudges on the device itself and the cards that came with it where scratched up to severely, which immediately alarmed me but I really tried to brush it off to just being caused by the manufacturing process.
Three days after first receiving it, it completely died on me during usage. And showed no signs of life whatsoever.
Naturally contacted the online website’s support and explained the situation, and they responded asking me to try some troubleshooting steps to try to isolate the issue and potentially fix it remotely, all of which didn’t work.
Hence they offered to look into it themselves by having me send it back to them.
However, I insisted on returning the full kit back for a full refund as it is no longer fit for purpose due to both being defective and the fact that I wouldn’t trust a replacement either to not fail the same way now that I experienced this. And since this was 3 days since receiving it, and even 4 days since placing the purchase, it was well within the 14 days period the Consumer Rights Act 2015 allows for. Hence I asked them to just return the full kit for a full refund instead.
Yet they (or shoud I say he as it turns out this “company” is actually just one person) refused and said since I now opened it I am no longer eligible for a refund and kept insisting that sending it back for repaireplacement was my only option. (Which is nonsense as how was I supposed to even know it was defective if I didn’t open it!!!). They even went as far as stating their ToS also states that defective items aren’t eligible for a refund even if they are within the 14 day period (which is also nonsense as even their own ToS states that you can return faulty items for a full refund within 14 days. And either way the Consumer Rights Act 2015 gives me this right regardless of what their ToS say).
Then things started getting even more suspicious with this sellecompany. They started ignoring my emails stating my rights under the Consumer Rights Act 2015, and just resending the same email asking me if I accept to return it for a repair or replacement. Obviously I was not going to say yes as then they will use that against me and say I accepted to not get a refund but have it replaced instead.
So having paid by PayPal, it seemed straightforward. Just open up a dispute, explain the situation clearly and upload evidence. Which is exactly what I did.
Then through the PayPal disputes seller-buyer chat you get when first opening a dispute to try to sort things out together first, the seller again insisted on this whole ToS nonsense and then asked for the item back and provided a returns address but wouldn’t provide a returns label unless I accepted not to get a refund (again, not going to say yes to that). So what I did was instead return it under my own dime through Royal Mail Special Guarantee so there’s clear evidence. And uploaded the tracking details to the dispute.
Item gets delivered with proof of delivery and a signature and everything (because I thankfully decided to send it special guarantee), yet the seller kept asking for it back and not acknowledging that it’s already been delivered. (Even more suspicious!).
And when I clearly stated even the tracking showing proof of delivery and everything, suddenly the story changed and the seller now has it back… and then things got even more interesting.
The seller went above and beyond straight up making false statements claiming I damaged and modified the item (which I didn’t do). And the funny thing is, not only is what he was saying contradicting with the manufacturer’s own instructions, but his false allegations even contradict themselves! For example, he said the device outer cover is sealed and that I broke the seal and forced the cover open against the manufacturer’s usage instructions. Yet then claimed the tool which is INCLUDED in the box by the manufacturer specifically to open the casing showed signs of usage. Anyone with a brain without even knowing a thing about the device would instantly realize: Why would the manufacturer seal a device and not condone opening it yet include a tool specifically to do exactly that? And to add to that, the reason why you would open the outer casing is to access a SIM slot under there, which you then plug an also INCLUDED SIM-SAM adapter to that slot to use it… hence again, why would the manufacturer include an adapter in the box which can’t even be used without opening the plastic cover. And mind you all of these are part of the main device box, these aren’t the additional accessories that also came with the kit. Hence none of these could have possibly been aftermarket things not recommended by the manufacturer. See how even someone who doesn’t know anything about the device can instantly tell how these allegations conflict with each other? And to add to that, the seller also claimed that I admitted that I flashed aftermarket software to the device and that the device failed immediately after, and pointed towards one of my emails who he previously claimed he never received (again! Super obvious lie!). Yet that wasn’t what I even said, I said that I updated it to the latest version exactly as the manufacturer getting started docs instruct you to, and it was working fine (hence the failure did not occur after the update!) and the failure only happened 3 days later while I was just reading one of the included NFC cards (yes, one of the ones scratched). Hence again, more clear lies.
So at that point I clearly explained exactly how his lies conflict each other and conflict with the manufacturer instructions and supplied proof as well with manufacturer documentation and the full terminal log showing all of the things I did and commands I ran with the device, and escalated the claim for PayPal to review.
PayPal despite saying they will provide a verdict in 5 days, took weeks and them suddenly asked me to provide a police report. Yet when contacting the local police they said they don’t deal with these kind of things (which I expected), so now I am being asked for something that the police don’t even provide. Gave the PayPal customer service a call and explained that… and they rudely just kept repeating that I have to provide that or else my case will be closed in the seller’s favor.
After looking around I found the action fraud website so reported the incident there and thankfully the report letter you get after submitting mentions it being a police service, hence that would definitely work. So I went ahead and supplied that to the dispute and again it said they will provide a verdict within 5 days. This time they took even longer than last time and after keeping me on my toes for possibly a month+ they just simply rejected the claim saying I modified/damaged the item effectively blindly siding with the seller despite the clear lies and despite the clear explanation and evidence I supplied showing that.
So I appealed the decision and this time re-wrote the full explanation and evidence in case it wasn’t clear the first time and emphasized everything and made sure it was super clear with numbered bullet points and everything. Yet again they took their time and kept me waiting for weeks, eventually rejecting the appeal too for the same reason. (Clearly they couldn’t be bothered to even read a work I said nor even use any brain cells to see how obvious the lies are from the seller).
Once your appeal gets rejected then there’s no way to re-open the dispute anymore nor create a new one. So rang the PayPal support again and explained the situation and after the agent looked at the dispute even he agreed that the sellers lies were as clear as day and that my explanation and evidence further proves that, and was confused as to why it got rejected. So he said he will escalate to their head office and I should receive a response in 3 working days. And I immediately asked him: They rejected it twice already and blindly sided with the seller, wouldn’t they just do the same? And he assured me that the head office is a different team from the team that handled the dispute.
Over 2 weeks later… and I still haven’t heard back from anyone. So I gave them another ring. This time the agent that I got straight up started blaming me for “modifying” the item and saying the same nonsense and after straight up going over how all of them are lies (the same way I went over that twice already in my dispute and appeal, but this time I could actually say it verbally in real time to him as it was a phone call), he kept coming up with random nonsense excuses like saying PayPal disputes don’t handle defective items (which is nonsense) and then also went on saying that since the failure occurred 3 days after and not immediately it’s also not covered (again, nonsense), so I reminded him of my rights under the Consumer Rights Act 2015 and he went on saying but that’s not what they PayPal ToS says, and I also reminded him of the signs of usage I also clearly mentioned in the dispute and appeal hence even the item wasn’t as described as it was advertised as new (which in itself entitles me to a full refund even if the device hadn’t failed) and I straight up told him PayPal operates in the UK and all UK laws apply to them and they can’t legally deny my rights regardless of what their ToS says (and by the way, nowhere in the ToS either was it saying anything this guy was claiming). So regardless of what I kept saying he just kept coming up with excuses and nonsense so I knew that phone call was going nowhere. He even went as far as saying that I should resolve this with the seller directly (AS IF I HAVENT BEEN TRYING TO DO THAT FROM THE BEGINNING TO NO AVAIL WHICH IS WHY I HAD TO FILE A DISPUTE IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!).
At that point I had reached a dead end as the seller wasn’t cooperating, PayPal was blindly siding with him regardless of what I did, and to top this off and I couldn’t even file a dispute with my bank as I had used my card from my home country, and apparently when I spoke to them they said they don’t even file disputes unless the item simply hasn’t arrived (which in itself is just stupid on top of all of the stupidity I have faced so far).
So now I was out £509.99 for the kit, plus the £7.65 I paid out of pocket for postage to return it (which honestly I could have written off if I would have at least gotten the money for the kit refunded), and now I don’t even have the device nor the whole kit as that’s been returned to the seller. So I am out both the money and the kit. And the seller gets to keep the whole kit and probably scam someone else with it as well, plus gets to keep the money.
So I now filed a case with the financial ombudsman as it been wayyyyyyyyyyyy over 8 weeks and PayPal still hasn’t resolved this nor even wants to (thankfully didn’t need a final response letter due to how long it’s taken otherwise that in itself would have been a nightmare to try to get from PayPal judging by my experience with them so far). But I am honestly not hopeful at all as I have never my life ever won an ombudsman case, as they always blindly side with the company (yes, the same way PayPal blindly sided with the seller), hence no wonder companies confidently refer you to them because they know you probably won’t win.

Hence all of that being said, what are my options now? I am guessing probably small claims court, but if I lose that too then I will also be out the fees for that on top of the already massive losses. Plus I am an international student hence won’t be in the UK over the summer and my schedule during the academic year might not give me time to attend the hearing. Plus I can’t speak legalese and I am generally terrible at communicating on the spot due to my ADHD, hence that also won’t be in my favor. And I can’t afford to have someone represent me either.
I am really sorry if I am sounding super negative, I just really don’t know how to handle this, especially considering how much money I lost now which in itself has been a nightmare.
Any advice would greatly be appreciated whether here or through DMs (my DMs are open if you don’t feel comfortable sharing advice here).
Thanks!

I constantly wonder about: the lives of others, putting myself in other people's shoes, if it's possible that I crossed paths again with strangers from my past, and about how vast and obscure the world's population is.
Long post ahead so hear me out. Every once in a while I'll have these thoughts related to the existential stuff I mentioned in the title. Let's go piece by piece in a format that roughly follows my brains thoughts and see if anymore else ever thinks about this weird stuff.

Wondering about the lives of others - I always have this weird thing I do in my mind where I randomly fixated on a stranger and try to put myself in their body hence seeing the world from their point of view. If I'm sitting on a northbound traffic jam, I would look to my left at the traffic jam going southbound and find some person and then imagine that I'M the one looking at the view towards southbound traffic as if I'm sitting in that person's mind and field of vision. This then leads me to wonder where that person is going? What is their life like? Who are their loved ones? What do they do for a living? And basically coming to the conclusion that they also have a complex and intricate life like mine. They laugh, cry, smirk, and show various other emotions just like how I do. In my life they are just side characters but in their lives they are the main character. I hate it when this mind teleport thing happens in scary or dark situations. Like if I'm watching a documentary about a child abductor / murderer, my mind teleports into the minds of those kids and my body "feels" the sense of dread, fear, and anxiety that those kids feel. This feeling scares the shit out of me in these situations. Or when you fight with your mom and leave the house after saying something hurtful and then you are picturing in your head that she is sitting on a stool softly crying because you hurt her. Then you feel like utter trash because your body "feels" that guilt. It's weird knowing that your mom, brother, best friend all interact with you when you are present in the moment with them and you perceive them a certain way but then when you are in different rooms and separate areas you don't know what they doing, if they are okay, how they behave with others, and how your perception of them would change if you were just a fly on the wall in a room they happen to be in.
Crossing paths again? - Taking that same person from the first scenario about the traffic jam. I know this person is a complete stranger as we are both just participants in this unbearable traffic jam. However, what if I crossed paths with this person sometime in the past somewhere in a completely different location from where we were both sitting in our cars without even realizing it? For example, say I was born and raised in Florida and moved to Michigan for college before settling for a job in Texas after graduating. There was also another student (the same person above sitting across the median from me in traffic) who was born and raised in Idaho and went to same college as me in Michigan before also moving to Texas for work. We are both originally from two very different parts of the country, then converged in Michigan for college (walked past each other on campus a few times), and now are next to each other in traffic in a third random state. This feeling always weirds me out as it makes me nostalgic for some reason. I feel like for something like this to happen that would be impossible but this world ceases to amaze me. Imagine you are being served ice cream at a Coldstone in New York City and then you see that same person at a gas station in Phoenix 6 months later. Insane.
I can't stop thinking about how vast and obscure the world's population is and was. We will only meet what seems like a tiny fraction of the amount of people on this planet throughout our lifetime. The amount of people you see daily in TV ads are actual people who are living their lives outside of that TV set. There are so many of them. You seen that person and their face for that one 30 second commercial and then you will never see them again for the rest of your life. You were close to a colleague at work for years and then they left the company for another position out of the state you live in and now you will never see or talk to that person ever again. When they are out of your life, what are they doing? How are they doing? How did they die? All questions we will never know. That feeling feels so grim to me for some reason. There was a person out there who once helped build the house you are living in, another person out there who helped build the phone you are typing on, or the person who helped pave the road you commuted on this morning. The fact that the chair you are sitting on in the restaurant you having dinner at was occupied by so many people in it's history. People of all ages and backgrounds from different parts of the world. All the houses built in this world were built by some people. All the plumbing was created by someone. The laws we follow were created by someone. The words added to the English language for all the various chemicals that we discovered, all the bacteria that we know about were added by some people. You have a recollection of your dad and grandpa right? Did your grandpa know his grandpa? Did he know his grandpa? How far back does you family line go? When do they stop remembering their ancestors as "grandpa" (probably not human that far back)? It's crazy that each person on this planet has lineage that long. Even so far back that their minds just don't comprehend relationships or that the person that looks like you a little is your grandpa.

My thoughts hit me with all that nonsense above. Let me know if anyone agrees, feels, thinks about any of this.

Long post ahead so hear me out. Every once in a while I'll have these thoughts related to the existential stuff I mentioned in the title. Let's go piece by piece in a format that roughly follows my brains thoughts and see if anymore else ever thinks about this weird stuff.

Wondering about the lives of others - I always have this weird thing I do in my mind where I randomly fixated on a stranger and try to put myself in their body hence seeing the world from their point of view. If I'm sitting on a northbound traffic jam, I would look to my left at the traffic jam going southbound and find some person and then imagine that I'M the one looking at the view towards southbound traffic as if I'm sitting in that person's mind and field of vision. This then leads me to wonder where that person is going? What is their life like? Who are their loved ones? What do they do for a living? And basically coming to the conclusion that they also have a complex and intricate life like mine. They laugh, cry, smirk, and show various other emotions just like how I do. In my life they are just side characters but in their lives they are the main character. I hate it when this mind teleport thing happens in scary or dark situations. Like if I'm watching a documentary about a child abductor / murderer, my mind teleports into the minds of those kids and my body "feels" the sense of dread, fear, and anxiety that those kids feel. This feeling scares the shit out of me in these situations. Or when you fight with your mom and leave the house after saying something hurtful and then you are picturing in your head that she is sitting on a stool softly crying because you hurt her. Then you feel like utter trash because your body "feels" that guilt. It's weird knowing that your mom, brother, best friend all interact with you when you are present in the moment with them and you perceive them a certain way but then when you are in different rooms and separate areas you don't know what they doing, if they are okay, how they behave with others, and how your perception of them would change if you were just a fly on the wall in a room they happen to be in.
Crossing paths again? - Taking that same person from the first scenario about the traffic jam. I know this person is a complete stranger as we are both just participants in this unbearable traffic jam. However, what if I crossed paths with this person sometime in the past somewhere in a completely different location from where we were both sitting in our cars without even realizing it? For example, say I was born and raised in Florida and moved to Michigan for college before settling for a job in Texas after graduating. There was also another student (the same person above sitting across the median from me in traffic) who was born and raised in Idaho and went to same college as me in Michigan before also moving to Texas for work. We are both originally from two very different parts of the country, then converged in Michigan for college (walked past each other on campus a few times), and now are next to each other in traffic in a third random state. This feeling always weirds me out as it makes me nostalgic for some reason. I feel like for something like this to happen that would be impossible but this world ceases to amaze me. Imagine you are being served ice cream at a Coldstone in New York City and then you see that same person at a gas station in Phoenix 6 months later. Insane.
I can't stop thinking about how vast and obscure the world's population is and was. We will only meet what seems like a tiny fraction of the amount of people on this planet throughout our lifetime. The amount of people you see daily in TV ads are actual people who are living their lives outside of that TV set. There are so many of them. You seen that person and their face for that one 30 second commercial and then you will never see them again for the rest of your life. You were close to a colleague at work for years and then they left the company for another position out of the state you live in and now you will never see or talk to that person ever again. When they are out of your life, what are they doing? How are they doing? How did they die? All questions we will never know. That feeling feels so grim to me for some reason. There was a person out there who once helped build the house you are living in, another person out there who helped build the phone you are typing on, or the person who helped pave the road you commuted on this morning. The fact that the chair you are sitting on in the restaurant you having dinner at was occupied by so many people in it's history. People of all ages and backgrounds from different parts of the world. All the houses built in this world were built by some people. All the plumbing was created by someone. The laws we follow were created by someone. The words added to the English language for all the various chemicals that we discovered, all the bacteria that we know about were added by some people. You have a recollection of your dad and grandpa right? Did your grandpa know his grandpa? Did he know his grandpa? How far back does you family line go? When do they stop remembering their ancestors as "grandpa" (probably not human that far back)? It's crazy that each person on this planet has lineage that long. Even so far back that their minds just don't comprehend relationships or that the person that looks like you a little is your grandpa.

My thoughts hit me with all that nonsense above. Let me know if anyone agrees, feels, thinks about any of this.

I constantly wonder about: the lives of others, putting myself in other people's shoes, if it's possible that I crossed paths again with strangers from my past, and about how vast and obscure the world's population is.
Long post ahead so hear me out. Every once in a while I'll have these thoughts related to the existential stuff I mentioned in the title. Let's go piece by piece in a format that roughly follows my brains thoughts and see if anymore else ever thinks about this weird stuff.

Wondering about the lives of others - I always have this weird thing I do in my mind where I randomly fixated on a stranger and try to put myself in their body hence seeing the world from their point of view. If I'm sitting on a northbound traffic jam, I would look to my left at the traffic jam going southbound and find some person and then imagine that I'M the one looking at the view towards southbound traffic as if I'm sitting in that person's mind and field of vision. This then leads me to wonder where that person is going? What is their life like? Who are their loved ones? What do they do for a living? And basically coming to the conclusion that they also have a complex and intricate life like mine. They laugh, cry, smirk, and show various other emotions just like how I do. In my life they are just side characters but in their lives they are the main character. I hate it when this mind teleport thing happens in scary or dark situations. Like if I'm watching a documentary about a child abductor / murderer, my mind teleports into the minds of those kids and my body "feels" the sense of dread, fear, and anxiety that those kids feel. This feeling scares the shit out of me in these situations. Or when you fight with your mom and leave the house after saying something hurtful and then you are picturing in your head that she is sitting on a stool softly crying because you hurt her. Then you feel like utter trash because your body "feels" that guilt. It's weird knowing that your mom, brother, best friend all interact with you when you are present in the moment with them and you perceive them a certain way but then when you are in different rooms and separate areas you don't know what they doing, if they are okay, how they behave with others, and how your perception of them would change if you were just a fly on the wall in a room they happen to be in.
Crossing paths again? - Taking that same person from the first scenario about the traffic jam. I know this person is a complete stranger as we are both just participants in this unbearable traffic jam. However, what if I crossed paths with this person sometime in the past somewhere in a completely different location from where we were both sitting in our cars without even realizing it? For example, say I was born and raised in Florida and moved to Michigan for college before settling for a job in Texas after graduating. There was also another student (the same person above sitting across the median from me in traffic) who was born and raised in Idaho and went to same college as me in Michigan before also moving to Texas for work. We are both originally from two very different parts of the country, then converged in Michigan for college (walked past each other on campus a few times), and now are next to each other in traffic in a third random state. This feeling always weirds me out as it makes me nostalgic for some reason. I feel like for something like this to happen that would be impossible but this world ceases to amaze me. Imagine you are being served ice cream at a Coldstone in New York City and then you see that same person at a gas station in Phoenix 6 months later. Insane.
I can't stop thinking about how vast and obscure the world's population is and was. We will only meet what seems like a tiny fraction of the amount of people on this planet throughout our lifetime. The amount of people you see daily in TV ads are actual people who are living their lives outside of that TV set. There are so many of them. You seen that person and their face for that one 30 second commercial and then you will never see them again for the rest of your life. You were close to a colleague at work for years and then they left the company for another position out of the state you live in and now you will never see or talk to that person ever again. When they are out of your life, what are they doing? How are they doing? How did they die? All questions we will never know. That feeling feels so grim to me for some reason. There was a person out there who once helped build the house you are living in, another person out there who helped build the phone you are typing on, or the person who helped pave the road you commuted on this morning. The fact that the chair you are sitting on in the restaurant you having dinner at was occupied by so many people in it's history. People of all ages and backgrounds from different parts of the world. All the houses built in this world were built by some people. All the plumbing was created by someone. The laws we follow were created by someone. The words added to the English language for all the various chemicals that we discovered, all the bacteria that we know about were added by some people. You have a recollection of your dad and grandpa right? Did your grandpa know his grandpa? Did he know his grandpa? How far back does you family line go? When do they stop remembering their ancestors as "grandpa" (probably not human that far back)? It's crazy that each person on this planet has lineage that long. Even so far back that their minds just don't comprehend relationships or that the person that looks like you a little is your grandpa.

I hate and love when my thoughts hit me with all that nonsense above. Let me know if anyone agrees, feels, thinks about any of this.

There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.

Long post ahead so hear me out. Every once in a while I'll have these thoughts related to the existential stuff I mentioned in the title. Let's go piece by piece in a format that roughly follows my brains thoughts and see if anymore else ever thinks about this weird stuff.

Wondering about the lives of others - I always have this weird thing I do in my mind where I randomly fixated on a stranger and try to put myself in their body hence seeing the world from their point of view. If I'm sitting on a northbound traffic jam, I would look to my left at the traffic jam going southbound and find some person and then imagine that I'M the one looking at the view towards southbound traffic as if I'm sitting in that person's mind and field of vision. This then leads me to wonder where that person is going? What is their life like? Who are their loved ones? What do they do for a living? And basically coming to the conclusion that they also have a complex and intricate life like mine. They laugh, cry, smirk, and show various other emotions just like how I do. In my life they are just side characters but in their lives they are the main character. I hate it when this mind teleport thing happens in scary or dark situations. Like if I'm watching a documentary about a child abductor / murderer, my mind teleports into the minds of those kids and my body "feels" the sense of dread, fear, and anxiety that those kids feel. This feeling scares the shit out of me in these situations. Or when you fight with your mom and leave the house after saying something hurtful and then you are picturing in your head that she is sitting on a stool softly crying because you hurt her. Then you feel like utter trash because your body "feels" that guilt. It's weird knowing that your mom, brother, best friend all interact with you when you are present in the moment with them and you perceive them a certain way but then when you are in different rooms and separate areas you don't know what they doing, if they are okay, how they behave with others, and how your perception of them would change if you were just a fly on the wall in a room they happen to be in.
Crossing paths again? - Taking that same person from the first scenario about the traffic jam. I know this person is a complete stranger as we are both just participants in this unbearable traffic jam. However, what if I crossed paths with this person sometime in the past somewhere in a completely different location from where we were both sitting in our cars without even realizing it? For example, say I was born and raised in Florida and moved to Michigan for college before settling for a job in Texas after graduating. There was also another student (the same person above sitting across the median from me in traffic) who was born and raised in Idaho and went to same college as me in Michigan before also moving to Texas for work. We are both originally from two very different parts of the country, then converged in Michigan for college (walked past each other on campus a few times), and now are next to each other in traffic in a third random state. This feeling always weirds me out as it makes me nostalgic for some reason. I feel like for something like this to happen that would be impossible but this world ceases to amaze me. Imagine you are being served ice cream at a Coldstone in New York City and then you see that same person at a gas station in Phoenix 6 months later. Insane.
I can't stop thinking about how vast and obscure the world's population is and was. We will only meet what seems like a tiny fraction of the amount of people on this planet throughout our lifetime. The amount of people you see daily in TV ads are actual people who are living their lives outside of that TV set. There are so many of them. You seen that person and their face for that one 30 second commercial and then you will never see them again for the rest of your life. You were close to a colleague at work for years and then they left the company for another position out of the state you live in and now you will never see or talk to that person ever again. When they are out of your life, what are they doing? How are they doing? How did they die? All questions we will never know. That feeling feels so grim to me for some reason. There was a person out there who once helped build the house you are living in, another person out there who helped build the phone you are typing on, or the person who helped pave the road you commuted on this morning. The fact that the chair you are sitting on in the restaurant you having dinner at was occupied by so many people in it's history. People of all ages and backgrounds from different parts of the world. All the houses built in this world were built by some people. All the plumbing was created by someone. The laws we follow were created by someone. The words added to the English language for all the various chemicals that we discovered, all the bacteria that we know about were added by some people. You have a recollection of your dad and grandpa right? Did your grandpa know his grandpa? Did he know his grandpa? How far back does you family line go? When do they stop remembering their ancestors as "grandpa" (probably not human that far back)? It's crazy that each person on this planet has lineage that long. Even so far back that their minds just don't comprehend relationships or that the person that looks like you a little is your grandpa.

I hate and love when my thoughts hit me with all that nonsense above. Let me know if anyone agrees, feels, thinks about any of this.

There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.

I wanted to post this because I see many going through a similar, tough buying time. I hope my story gives you a boost and helps you keep going. There is my sad backstory that you can skip to "Dec, 2020" that starts the home journey. This post is extremely long but emotional for me. Please be kind.
The only house i ever lived in was my uncles, for 2 years (age 3-5) before he removed us.
My mother suffers from many tribulations, and it was reflected in life. We apartment hopped for all of my childhood. I'll never forget how hurt I was, leaving behind my valuables everytime we downsized, (dressers, my desk, doll houses etc) being cramped, no pets allowed (i love animals), neighbors banging on their ceilings when I played, hearing families fight as if they next to me, smoke coming in the windows, constant new neighbors, roaches and other infestations due to neighbors, etc.
My mom would drive around and say, “this is going to be our new house!” And get my hopes up, but it never happened. My sister (she's 5 years older) said she would buy a house for us all, and that lasted a few months before we were evicted again, moving to another apartment.
I asked constantly when we could get a house like my uncle or sister. My father had one (my parents divorced when I was an infant), and when I visited, I wished I had my own backyard, pets. I was jealous of my friends who lived in houses. I would pretend vacant homes were mine, walk to the new homes being built, and watch their progress. Imagine my future in it where my kids would know stability.
After Bullying in school (from 4th - 12th grade), SA from my father, (i was 15) neglect, abuse, depression, self harm, apartment hopping, I was desperate to move out and away once I turned 16 (emancipation). I moved from NJ when i was 18 to FL and started my own downhill spiral of DV, homelessness, repossessions, and other mentally and physically draining circumstances that pushed my limits, money, and everything
In 2017, I picked up my pieces and gathered them, alone, to AZ into the best apartment and neighborhood i ever had. I told myself that after a year, I was going to buy a home there. In 2018, I reached out to realtors and was told all I needed to do was pay off 2k of credit card debt to qualify for 250-300k. The dumbest decision I ever made was saying spending 2k was stupid. I wish I had the recourses, support, anything, or anyone to tell me to do it. had I done it, I could have bought my dream home then for 200-275k
In Dec 2020, I had been with my now husband for 3 years, went through hell in the apartments he wanted us to move to for more space, away from that neighborhood I loved. Someone stole our bikes, smoked weed next to our window, and then our new car was stolen and required 3k in repairs. I was miserable. I wanted to end the cycle of apartments and putting away my wants and needs, so we decided to begin paying things off to get pre qualified. Then came the new battlefield.
As you all know, 2021 until today, it hasn't been a buyers market. I had no idea what any of that meant until I was told I was approved to start putting in offers in January 2022. We were pre approved for a max of FHA 350k from a lender that I was sure had our backs after getting tons of denials and pisspoor brokers who couldn't care less about my childhood dream. I pulled up the MLS and saved about 30 homes a week, if not more, that were 375k and below, all the way down to 150k trailer homes, condos, townhomes, and houses.
Half of those listings were sold (pending) within 5 days. the other half we were bidding upwards against. I couldn't believe it. I was told the market is hot, lots of people selling their homes in bordering states and putting higher end offers on the homes in our price range because they were selling their homes for 500k and using the differences to buy the cheap homes. The others were investors.
After doing all of the work for my husband and roommate and then some to qualify, I was now battling 15+ people on one home multiple times. I was told to try going further out. The market I was in was too desirable. I was like, REALLY? PEOPLE GET SHOT HERE ONCE A WEEK, HOW IS THIS NEIGHBORHOOD, "HOT"??? I was told to shop beneath my budget, shop outside the location I wanted, everything you are all being told today to, "land a home, stay in it for five years, then sell it and get what I want." But I heard none of it, I wanted my DREAM home on my first buy, which wasn't a lot.
All I wanted was a 1300-2000sqft home with a front and backyard for my dog and kids, a house that didn't need a crap ton of repairs, and a neighborhood I felt comfortable in so that I wouldnt have to deal with all the things I did since I was little. I didn't care if it was upgraded, carpeted, or tile, old or new, I just wanted space, safety, a yard.
It didn't matter. Even if I sacrificed a yard, square footage, whatever, I was getting outbid. Every home I could afford was being bought in cash, waiving inspections, having a 14 day close, and/or being bought 25k to upwards of almost 200k over asking even if it was a fixer upper!! I could not compete.
In April, I FINALLY had an offer accepted in a town that was 30 minutes from work, building up, and beautiful. I was willing to sacrifice commute time and everything for this beautiful house that checked all the boxes. It was 2,060 sqft, upstairs and downstairs, a 5k lot, in a beautiful neighborhood. We were able to get a third cosigner (lomg time friend) to up our income and get to 375k. But then I found out my preapproval wasn't so pre approved.
Having a 3rd co signer meant nothing. We needed to reserve money that we weren't informed about, DPA wanted us to pay off more debt, and we needed more income than the THREE of us had. I was livid, why didnt they tell us any of this? Why did they say our income was enough, and the DPA would cover everything?! I knew nothing, I tell you, nothing, and I should have researched more. But I was desperate.
My grandma stepped in. First, she needed a credit score. She opened up an unsecured credit card for 300. Bought gum, paid it off. We did a rapid rescore, and it shot her up to 7 freggin 735, SEVEN THIRTY FIVE LMFAO, and then we needed her social security letters. Which took two weeks too long, pushing back a close the seller REALLY WANTED TO CLOSE ON, which my realtor convinced them to hold off. Well, guess what? My grandma doesn't have a government id. She hadn't updated her id since 2005. No biggie, we'll get her to the DMV, which we had to reschedule online to 3 different locations. Well, guess what? Her mail, old id, her social security card, AND BIRTH CERTIFICATE all had DIFFERENT VARIATIONS of her name, and DMV couldn't verify her identity.
It would take two months to correct those issues. I threw my phone, scratched my arms to oblivion, fell on my knees, and cried. The lender said there was no way the loan was to be approved without Grandma. My sweet Grandma of 4 different names. I feel the tears, even now. I lost it. I fought for a home all my life and lost it because of being uninformed, way too broke ( I know I know), and then some. I felt like the universe was against me.
So May comes around, and my realtor says, "Listen, let's try this. Let's do rent to own. They pay for everything, and then you save, fix your credit, and buy the house back at the value of the contract paying the difference in appraisal if need be."
I was so broken that I did it. Back to the MLS, we still couldn't get a home in our price range in the neighborhoods I wanted. Rental price was going to be 3,100, so... we stuck to the 30-minute away neighborhood, and oh god, was that a new mistake. The first house we put an offer in on was accepted immediately. It was the smoothest process I'd ever seen in comparison to the hell I'd just gone through. I checked the MLS every day, watched homes I saved while I rented go pending or under contract in a week, or sell for over asking.
My heart sunk when all the homes I wanted and lost out to were back on the market as a rental property, or were slightly updated prices 50k-100k higher than before. Homes were being sold by opendoor, or rental from the very people I used to buy to rent from. I couldn't believe to this day how many homes I lost out to, sitting vacant for MONTHS prices dropping and dropping as the feds raised the interest rates. I went to open houses, asked what people wanted for offers (so I could be informed when I was ready), and knew my chances were getting slimmer and slimmer.
All the while, my commute was the devil. Traffic galore, accidents making my drive time go from 30-2 hours to and from. It was far from family, the mileage on my car grew so fast, my tires were wearing faster. The home was way too big for us (2765 sqft) and difficult to maintain. Beautiful home and town, but not for me.
The rent was also too high. It said it would be 2500, but wound up being 3100 after all of the damn fees they didn't disclose until AFTER WE WERE UNDER CONTRACT sflkghskg The electric bill was 6x the amount (bad company. People in that town are begnning to organize), water bill company demands 100 dollars no matter the usage (we only use about 60$), and the gas prices increased so high I was putting 60 dollars every 3 days in my car.
Then, my precious cat that followed me from NJ to AZ that had been with me through all of the DV, mental breaks, homelessness, had suffered from strokes. She was a stick, walking in circles, giving nothing but love. I tried everything I could, paid thousands to save her, but in the end, all I did was prolong her and my suffering. She passed in my arms. I love you and miss you, Emma.
Other life things happened, and by December, I had 200 dollars in the bank. When my income tax came, I applied for loans and said Im going to try the DPA and stuff again, It was either that, or rent a smaller house or apartment but seeing the market repeat my 2021 experience, I had to try with what I had. My goal was to get back to the neighborhood I wanted. NO EXCEPTIONS.
So I switched realtors based on a recommendation from FB. Random person said this lady would fight for me like no one else would. This realtor recommended me a lender, she said it could make miracles happen. I almost didn't do it because I had been let down by 2 other lenders before this one in 2023, but screw it. I followed his advice to the T of what to pay down, what to keep, and what to negotiate with. We gave him our 401ks info, our paystubs, had 3 of us on the loan, and explained we had no downpayment, just money for closing costs.
The market, at this point, slowed down due to the interest rates but was beginning to pick up. A lot of the homes we put offers on didn't like our asks. Which was disappointing, but I understood. What seller would want to pay closing costs for us so our payment assistance would go strictly to the home when they could accept the few cash, investor, or better conventional loan offers? The homes were going below listing, which was cool, but not quite in my 365k max range.
Until I gave way a little bit. There were 2 townhomes. One that was detached and had the most gorgeous yard Id ever seen for where it was at, and the inside was completely upgraded and bigger than it looked with a gorgeous mountain view from the master. But it was in a neighborhood that gave me goosebumps. No wonder they would accept 365k and pay everything should we put in our offer lol I couldn't do it, though. I didn't want to sacrifice being comfortable in my home safely to have a house. It was the first and only time I was picky.
At first, that seemed like a mistake, as the only other home I thought would accept our offer in my dream neighborhood said the seller had a specific number they wanted to sell at, which wasnt 365k, it was 375k. I wasn't going to get a home after all. I knew my ask was tough, and I wasn't going to get a house despite trying for another 3 months. I gave up. But then... I thought about something. That townhome in the neighborhood of my dreams, they wanted 375k? I restructured our ask to get to that 375k. A few hours later, my realtor texted me if she could call. It was urgent.
I was at work and went into the office and called. THE SELLER ACCEPTED OUR OFFER, THEY ACCEPTED OUR EFFING OFFER! THEY ACCEPTED IT!!!! I cried so hard, hyperventilated, cried some more, and told myself I wasn't going to get excited. I had this happen before, after all.
Well, guess what? Long story short, after hurdles during this closing as well, needing to push it back for this or that, WE CLOSED!! WE CLOSED ON THE HOUSE, IT WAS MINE!!! IT IS MINE!
The seller paid for all of the closing costs. DPA paid the downpayment at 3%. The rate was 6.85%, DPA loan at 8%. I paid for the appraisal and inspection, that's it. Only 1100 out of pocket. Monthly payment was 2865, my max, but it is MINE and EVERYTHING I wanted besides having a huge yard (it's still a decent sized yard) and open kitchen Home is 8 min from work (bye bye crappy commute!),community has incredible amenities, sub division has a pool, HOA covered roof (it was new anyway), new AC, new dishwasher, freshly painted, 3 beds 2 and a half baths, 1400sqft, 2 car garage with driveway, upstairs and downstairs like I always imagined, and so much more.
Every hurdle, every tear, every breakdown, taught me what I needed to know and led me to home. After saving for a year with the cheaper electric, water, gas prices, and mortgage, we just refinanced. Got a 5.75% rate (I thought it was 5.32, but after we closed today, it was 5.75%), the home appraised for 395k with no changes besides adding a fridge and new oven. The equity paid every penny of the refinance and the DPA loan. My mortgage is now 2550. For us, this is affordable now that we are debt free and still have savings!
I got my home with the most undesirable circumstances. I may be an exception, not the rule, but if my pathetic self can do it, i promise. You can, too. Don't be defeated. Don't let the investors win.
You need to win.

There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.

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