My normal disclaimer on Achievements in Hearthstone: If you have to ask, "why should I do these?" the answer is, "you shouldn't." They are useless. The points are useless. They are just a distraction or small goal that some people (like mylself) enjoy completing.
That said, some thoughts on the Whizbang's Workshop Achievements:
Too easy and too few.
Ever since Achievements were added a few years ago, they have been my primary focus when an expansion launches. While the majority of players are trying new cards and (at least here on Reddit) complaining about the new broken deck, I spend the first month in Wild playing bad decks against bad decks, not caring if I win or lose so long as I make progress on a little number.
This set, though, the total number of Achievements were reduced, and the complexity (which was never too high) was reduced as well. Instead of completing all of them in a month, I completed all of them in 2 weeks (or less). Not only that, but my overall collection is much lower, since I no longer need to craft a half dozen legendary cards for their Achievements.

Class	Achievement Name	Achievement Details	Thoughts
Death Knight	Puppy Power	Summon 6/12 Rambunctious Stuffies in one game.	Stack your deck with Frost spells and go for it.
Death Knight	It's Foam or Nothing	Attack 4/6 times with a single Foamrender	With Highlander Warrior being popular, I found this one pretty easy. Sure, you might have your weapon destroyed once, but they rarely have 2 weapon removals (and often don't even have 1). Very easy in pretty much any common DK deck.
Demon Hunter	No Nerfs Needed	Play 20/40 cards created by Ci'cigi.	More frustrating than difficult (does anyone else wish this was a battlecry instead of deathrattle). Just play the card.
Demon Hunter	Am I a Naga, or Am I a Puppet?	Attack with a 6-/12-Attack Sock Puppet Slitherspear	I used Quest DH combined with Lion's Frenzy. I found out AFTERWARDS that the minion was bugged to not use the weapon charge... and I still got it done on the 2nd game.
Druid	One Short Day in the Jade City	Play a 5/5 / 10/10 or bigger Jade Display.	Wild made this one super simple. We have multiple ways of triggering Deathrattles, massive card draw options, and plenty of survivability.
Druid	Magic Bean Stonks	Draw 4/7 cards with a single Overgrown Beanstalk	Wild has so many ways to summon Treants there's no reason to try anywhere else.
Hunter	The Good Spots in Life	Summon 50 / 101 R.C. Hounds	Play the card. There are probably ways to copy the spell to speed up the process, but I didn't really feel the need.
Hunter	Clever Girl	Recast 30/60 Secrets with Product 9	This one looked harder than it was, because the Achievement will progress for every Secret that the battlecry TRIES to cast, even if the secret fizzles because the secret zone is full or there's a duplicate Secret. So load your deck with easily triggered Secrets and then play Product 9. Selective Breeder and Stitched Tracker are great to get extra copies of Product 9.
Mage	Sob Story	Play a spell that had its Cost reduced by 3/6 from Watercolor Artist	I put a few big Frost spells and then survived for a few turns.
Mage	Hat Trick	Have a single Darkmoon Magician cast 8/12 Mana worth of spells.	I found it easy to load a deck with 0- and 1-cost spells and then just start spamming them. Note that the minion will cast a spell that costs 1-more than the amount spent: if you cast a 5-cost spell for 0-mana, it will cast a 1-cost spell.
Paladin	Stocked Inventory	Summon 6 copies of Wind-Up Enforcer using its Battlecry.	This took a bit of trying, but it wasn't ridiculous. Like other Achievements of this type, I believe it counts the number you TRY to summon, even if there isn't enough room on the board. Radar Detector is a great card to fish this guy out of your deck.
Paladin	Flourescent Flourish	Play 20/40 Flickering Lightbots for 0-Mana.	Librams are perfect for this since they can get to 0-cost easily AND are repeatable. However, you will probably die if you try to go all Libram. Wild is a mess right now :(.
Priest	Spring Cleaning	Stuff 15/30 Mana worth of minions into a single Box with Repackage.	It looks harder than it is. I think I used a Big Priest shell so I could send my expensive minions into the box, but I doubt it is necessary.
Priest	Dr. Boom's Matinee	Play 15/30 minions created by Puppet Theater.	Possibly the slowest Achievement of the set, even though 30 isn't that big a number. Luckily the card is better than I expected, so I managed to win over half my games while working on it. And it took 20+ games to get it done.
Rogue	It's a Steal!	Summon 3/6 Pirates with Shoplifter Goldbeard's effect in one turn.	Filletfighter is great for this, since it can clear a 1/1 Pirate from your board to make room for another summon.
Rogue	WAAHH!! GOLDEN ACHIEVEMENT!	Play 2/4 cards created by Twisted Pack in one turn.	This one looks easier than it is. RNG is your enemy, and no amount of Preparation, Counterfeit Coins, or other tricks is going to save you from it. However, Spirit of the Shark + Scabbs Cutterbutter can do some crazy things.
Shaman	Blue Participation Ribbon	Destroy 15/30 minions with Baking Soda Volcano.	If you want to accellerate this one (and the next one), take a look at Flash of Lightning + Voltaic Burst and Pop-Up Book.
Shaman	The Good Ol' Day	Transform 20/40 non-Legendary minions into Legendary ones with Wave of Nostalgia.	Easiest thing is to fill your own board with cheap minions and then cast the spell. Since Wave of Nostalgia is a Nature spell, you can combo quite a few options with Flash of Lightning.
Warlock	Sketched Out	Cast 20/40 temporary Shadow spells created by Sketch Artist.	Nothing special, just play the card.
Warlock	More. MORE!!!	Play 4/8 copies of Mass Production in one game.	I hate it, but this had me playing Questline Warlock again. A better person would combo this card with one of the "your hero is immune" options, but I'm not a better person.
Warrior	Science Rules!	Summon 25/50 Lab Patrons.	It was discovered fairly early that a newly summoned Lab Patron will trigger its ability when you gain armor, even if it isn't the first time you gained armor that turn. In other words, when combo'd with Armor Vendor and Warsong Commander - you can summon many Patrons in a single turn.
Warrior	Explosive Experiments (of Fun!)	Shuffle 25/50 Bombs into your opponent's deck as a Warrior.	Search collection: Bomb. Add all the cards to your deck. Die, but make plenty of progress on this Achievement.
Neutral	Mini Me	Play 20/40/80 Mini minions.	Well, if you got the weekly quest you've already made good progress on this. No point trying to farm this one, it should complete for everyone who plays during this expansion.
Neutral	You Guessed it Right!	Awaken 10/20/40 Corridor Sleepers.	In Wild Hunters can summon many tokens, meaning this one is just a matter of time.
Neutral	I Must-Ache You a Question.	Destroy the enemy hero with a minion wearing a funny mustache.	In case this one isn't obvious, play Caricature Artist and then kill the enemy using the card drawn. HOWEVER, the Achievement is bugged - several people have reported getting this Achievement after drawing the minion, even if they don't kill with that minion. Me? I used Leeroy in handbuff Paladin during the first day of the expansion.
Neutral	P E R F E C T I O N	Play 4/8 different Zilliax creations.	Just keep track of the combinations you've played.
Neutral	GG EZ	Win 3 games of Rock-Paper-Scissors with Pro Gamer.	Play the card and Git Gud.
Neutral	On the Shoulders of Giants.	Play 10/20 Gigantic minions.	If you're working on the Paladin Lightbots achievement, you're likely going to get this one done. If not, I recommend looking up a handbuff DK list: because you get to discover a card that will likely cost 0, it makes it easier to play that initial 8-mana.

I’m not even sure how to describe what is even going on but I will be as detailed as I can in this short time period I have to write this while she sleeps. I am at my wits end. My mom has MS, diagnosed around 2010, I hate to say this but I honestly cannot remember what kind of MS or what “stage” of it she is in. I used to know but it has been over 5 years since she has seen a neurologist or anyone for her MS (very poor, extremely small town with horrible access to good doctors), I do know that she was told she had multiple lesions on her brain as to where they are and what they could be affecting I am unaware.
I know this is the most limiting information possible and I wish so bad I had more to give. My mom will be her “normal” self for a few weeks and then it seems randomly one night she can’t sleep, she will be up for over 30 hours consistently. During this time the symptoms as what I’m describing in the title above start to get worse and worse, it starts off with her seeming like she is “drunk” typical MS stuff I’m familiar with like slurred speech and such. As time goes on though and she delves further deeper into whatever is going on, it gets worse and she starts seemingly losing all touch with reality. She talks to people that are not there, she thinks my dead grandma is still alive and here. One time she even hallucinated that someone broke into our house so she actually called 911 and the police came. The only way I can describe it is like she is going through some form of “psychosis”, the only thing I find weird is she seemingly has no control over her motor system during this time which makes me think of it more as a neurological problem related to MS, such as a seizure (although I know they apparently don’t commonly happen together and it’s rare to have epilepsy as well as MS), but the only thing that looks similar to me is an absence seizure. Her arms flail around wildly, she has no balance or coordination, she flips her body around in weird positions very similar to convulsing but not quite, she even ticks her tongue out quite far and bears her teeth, she complains about being itchy and feeling tingly, and she seems to be holding her breath when this happens as well.
From what I’ve read absence seizures don’t typically last for a long time though. So my only thought is that she’s having a large amount of absence seizures over and over again during this time? I have no idea I’m at my wits end. The only thing I do know is that the only thing that seemingly fixes is it, is if she truly falls asleep. If she falls asleep and stays asleep for a while, she will wake up and seemingly be back to her “normal” self (I am not trying to be offensive describing it as normal or not normal, I know things are not that black and white in this kind of thing, but I’m exhausted myself and this is the easiest and quickest way I can think to put it, please bear with me).
So if things get as bad as they are right now, I will take her to the ER (I’ve only had to do that twice now and the second one was tonight). Well we are home from the ER, she was there for over 7 hours. They couldn’t confirm any kind of seizure activity but they also did not give any kind of good alternative to what could be happening. I was finally told that we were being discharged, my mom was still awake and in worse shape than when we got there. They tried giving her muscle relaxers and sedatives but nothing seemed to affect her at all (mind you she is running on 52 hours of no sleep during this), they finally just told me that they don’t really know exactly what is going on we would need to follow up with her neurologist. The reason for discharge was that they felt they safely could not administer any more medicine (which I definitely do understand but like now I’m even more lost?).
I don’t understand how no one can seem to figure out what is going on or how to stop it. I dont even know what kind of answers I’m expecting to get here. Maybe just someone to say they understand.
I am looking at getting her on my insurance in the next 6-7 months when re-enrollment comes around, I’ll be able to get her to a good doctor out of town then. But until then I feel completely stuck. And I’d also like some advice on what to potentially say to the neurologist when we go since I know so little. I don’t know what’s important to keep track of and what’s not.
I am still very young, mid 20’s and I’ll be honest this all happening so quickly. I hate this so much, I don’t feel mentally prepared to take care of my mom, I truly don’t understand how people go through this and make it out the other side completely whole. I spent my early 20’s fucking my life up and now I’m regretting not spending more time with my mom when she was 100% her cognitive self. I love her regardless and I know I have so much enjoyable time and good moments left but guilt is encompassing me. I’m basically alone in all of this as my dad and siblings are all drug addicts. I just don’t know what to expect.
Thank you to anyone who took the time to read this and if anyone out there can personally relate, honestly I’m so sorry and all I can say is stay strong cause your loved one needs you. I can’t imagine how alone my mom feels experiencing this. My mom is thankfully still asleep (we left the ER about 3 hours ago for reference) she’s been asleep for about 45 full minutes now and I hope it stays that way.
Goodnight everyone.

First Issue!

• Author's Note: Ay! We do be livin' here! Thought I'd unpack a nice lil' one for ya'll, crank up the action and intrigue from the get go. So here it is! If you want to help support the series and just my writing in general, you can do so here, on my Ko-fi page! This is where you can find references of some of the characters in the story as well as other drawings of mine! Anyways, that's about that! Enjoy the read!

The human had a moment of tenseness that had taken a deep clutching root inside of him as he was downing the diluted poison, but as he heard the Tuskir's words regarding the liquid he got splashed with as just being holy water, an ease washed through his muscles. Still, that feeling of relaxation went up in smokes akin to charcoal in a roaring furnace of frustrated vitriol at the realization that if he was a daeman, he might have been blind now and beaten to death.
His journey could have ended with him, a rotten carcass, tucked in the thick brush of the woods, eaten by vurms and other insects or even animals. This thought alone infuriated him, that despite everything he went through, the amount of effort he put into surviving, no, into living and improving himself, it could all have ended... just a short walk away from the tribe that had nestled and nurtured his unnatural existence in this world.
He felt his irregular heartbeat start to even out and then pick up, faster and faster, beating into his sternum akin to a drum being beaten up as it was continously reaching a rumbling apex of a melody, one that never came and just continued building. As blood began dripping out of his burst capilaries, his eyes burned alert, he'd drag his hand down his face wiping the water and instead smearing the blood over his lower face as he strained his cheeks to show the widest most forced toothy smile he could.
"I can't see... how you furred fucks didn't think that'd just piss me off." He said, in a calm yet eerie tone, as he belched the words out from the back of his throat which resounded with an awful rasp.
His response and reaction to the assault he received had staggered his Tuskir assailants, just enough for him to pop open the two leather pouches on his hips and taken out his knuckle dusters, the steel in the left and the iron in the right.
Despite being shocked by this display as well, the metal armored Rock Back looked at Michael's weapons and noticing that they didn't look like anything considerable, he decided this fight could still be doable. "Ehhh... you must be a mad one if you think you can win against three of us armed only with two measly chunks of metal." He'd comment giving his associates a bit of their boldness back, which prompted them to take at the ready stances, yet not enough to make 'em be the first to advance on towards Michael.
The human listened as he kept up with his bloody mad clown like grin. "You are right. I'd have to be mad to think I can beat you with two chunks of metal." He'd say as he then gingerly uncurled his fingers from around his iron knuckle duster and he'd gently let it thud onto the ground. "I'll only need the one." He'd reply back with a giggling chuckle and snort as he light shook the steel duster inbetween his left hand's digits.
The three didn't reply nor show any reaction to Michael's remark, at least not any they'd conciously make, but their stalling had spoken more than any words or expressions could. The human would direct his shot gaze at the axe wielding boar man he had teased before as an idea came to his mind. 'First to lose his composure entirely is the first to lose the fight. It's time for the 7 years of having to come up with tilting filthy insults in Championship of Champions chat to pay off. Promised myself I'd never insult someone in game like that again once I realized how bad everything that I said sounded, but... hell, this ain't nowhere near a game.'
"What's wrong shit muncher? Why are you hesitating, eh? Waiting for your mother to come and rescue you, like the little piglet you are? Or... oh? Is she dead? Is her ass rotting in some tomb or grave? Tsk... bummer, really... I'd have loved to slit your throat in front of her or maybe the other way around... that'd be even funnier. Still, I bet she'd still be able to roll over of grief in her grave, that she had to carry and birth you, a sorry joke of a son." Michael said while chuckling in an over the top manner between sentences, looking at the axe wielder with an amused mocking expression, his laugh turning his smile even more akin to a monstrous caricature of an expression.
The Tuskir axeman would squeal loudly as his drool bubbled at the corners of his maws akin to a pot over-boiling. "DON' YA DARE INSULT ME KIN, HEEEEELLSPAWN! " He'd yell out while charging, axe raised in his right hand, his scream of battle echoing in the early morning air.
"NO, YOU FOOL! STRIKE AT ONCE, NOT OUT OF FORM-" a voice bellowed from behind, but the fury of the Tuskir and the human's poison fueled adrenaline, blurred out who spoke and what else was said.
Michael would keep his eyes on the charging boarman, looking at his eyes, posture and the manner in which he held his weapon. With his nostrils flared he'd slow his breathing as he inhaled deeply. Fists raised up in a guarding stance, legs spread one forward and one back with his toes pointed forward, he'd wait, not unlike an archer biding his time for the perfect shot. He'd mumble under his breath as if in prayer, but the words would stop as soon as the Tuskir got close enough.
The attacker was but a few mere steps away as his brought back axe would now soon reach the apex height of his incoming downward swing, but that is exactly when and where the human wanted him to be.
"TUNDRA HUNT!" Michael's voice would roar out strained and gruff from the bottom of his throat, his hazel brown eyes lighting up teal as his bloody expression dimly glowed with the druidic magic of the only spell he remembered properly from what he'd seen Urla use.
In a near instant the axe would be thundering down with the force and intent of a bloody executioner to decapitate a new victim on his chopping block, but the violent blow would be stopped in its tracks as fast as a breaking freight train about to derail. Michael stepped in with a dirt kicking forward step, moving up close and personal, away from the axe blade. His body would contort and weave leaning to the right while his left arm, would sneak and slither from under and the outside of the Tuskir's swinging right arm, hooking over it into an overhand hook that would find its mark into the boarman's side of the head and jaw.
Steel met fur, flesh and bone and it scraped and tore akin to how a rusty saw tears wood instead of cutting it while being bashed from the back by a rock like fury. The knuckle duster skinned part of the Tuskir's hide from the bone of his jaw on the side lip, leaving it with a mushed up flap turning to a gash down to the side of the chin, while the bone cracked, the jaw's hinge unlatched itself loose, with a wet dull set of pops, unhearable from the two screaming and clashing fighters. As the moving bone hung from the muscles that operated it before, the freshly injured Tuskir let out a half choked squeal, as his weapon dropped from inbetween his twitching digits.
The other two could barely react as this whole motion went in action, the one carrying the club already charging to aid, while the armored boar man caught up from his further behind position. As they regrouped Michael continued his assault upon their comrade, his body twisted left, his knuckle duster pulling away, while his bare right fist came up in another hook punch that hit with a speed his own fist nearly couldn't handle. The extruding knuckles of his index and middle fingers made contact with the orbital bone and temple of his opponent, scraping the skin on his fist deeply due to the bristled fur as the fragile bones got cracked into.
The human's tuskir opponent, now unarmed, seemed to be about to crumple by himself, but before the humanoid shaped meat sack could even properly hit the dirt, Michael's body swung back one more time, impaling his knuckle duster deep into his ribs, with a low diagonal uppercut to the liver, tossing the body to the side. "ONE SERVING UP AND READY! DONE BLOODY RARE!" He'd declare with a loud scream while his eyes darted to stare down his next two incoming attackers.
The club wielder had reached him by now and with an incoming swing already just about in position to make contact. With barely half a moment to spare Michael would lift his left arm to block the blow with his forearm, the steel rods on his bracer taking the damage of the blow, reducing a broken bone to a bruised one. The force traveled through him and knocked him onto his right side, not unlike an actual ragdoll.
"I'LL KILL YA! FER BAGGO!" The club wielding tuskir yelled as he brought his weapon down, only to spray dirt and splinters, as Michael rolled away and then stumbled back to his feet.
The armored tuskir gave him no chance of respite as he came charging from his flank with a sideway axe chop aimed at his gut. Before his pink skin could be slit open by the blow and his dirtied shirt to be covered in his viscera and crimson, the human managed to lean back, only to stumble into an accidental back roll that landed him on his ass and just a bit out of the pinching manuever's reach.
"Fucking hell. Give a brother some breathing room. Ha ha ha..." He'd say while scrambling to his feet once more using his right hand, while he rubbed his bloody knuckle duster onto his left cheek mixing his own with his knocked down opponent's viscera.
"KEEP PRESSURIN' 'IM! I GOTS HIS FLANK!" The armored one said, dropping the torch on the ground, switching his hand axe from his left hand to the right one as he rushed past his ally to grab the hand axe of their fallen comrade.
"DON' GOTS TO TELL ME TWICE! RGHAAAAA! " The club wielding fighter roared as he charged Michael with his hefty wooden weapon, the crude bashing tool proceeding to then come in a rain like pourdown of blows.
Michael held his guard up as blow after blow came upon him, the steel rods of his bracers shredding bits of wood off of the weapon that battered him. Dust flew off his body with each hammering that connected with his protection gear, the wood of the club crackling and popping akin to a whining accompaniament to this drumming beat down.
'I need an opening. Calm down. This is nothing... his blows are nothing... they are nothing compared to that thing.' Michael thought as his inner pep talk reverbed in his head with each blow against his reinforced limbs. His mind would rush flashes of the fight with the undead golem, its relentless assault, how he got carved up by it, the pain he felt and those cold blue burning eyes. 'THIS IS NOTHING! COMPARED TO THAT THING... YOU ARE A SMALL FRY! AND ONE THAT NEEDS TO BREATH!' he tought while clenching his teeth, his arm muscles holding tight akin to unyelding walls, adjusting only slightly to better bear the continous assault of blows at slightly different angles.
The human could see with the corner of his eye the armored Tuskir, now wielding two handaxes as he began advancing quickly from his flank, starting to close in. A knot began forming in his gut as he was unable to move from his position where he stood, not unlike a stubborn nail that would get repeatedly bashed by a mallet. 'Breath... thud, thud, thud, thud breath, you bastard... thud, thud, thud - IT'S YOUR LAAAAAST!'
The bashing Tuskir paused his barrage of strikes a moment too long, leaving enough of an opening for Michael to release a quick, yet less powerful, hook from his viscera covered knuckle duster, smashing it right into the elongated snout of the boar man, scraping off fur and skin as the smeared metal got a new fresh light coating of blood. The squealing reel back was just enough for him to get out of the way, before his flanker hit him with a double axe blow, one downwards, another sideways.
"Keep him pinned under your club, again!" The frustrated dual wielder yelled.
His ally would comply chasing quickly after the backing out human, only for his legs to begin staggering with each step. He'd slow down tremendously, starting to hack and cough as he even dropped to a knee, holding a hand around his throat, while his weapon slipped out of his grip.
"KRANK! WHA' HAPPENED?!" The armored one yelled as he rushed to his ally, his attention dropping off the human as held onto his comrade. He saw that blow, how could it do so much damage to his ally?
Only when he got close did he realize it wasn't the blow itself that did this. Krank, with his club before him, had begun foaming crimson pink at the mouth, blood dripping down his nose, jaws and out of his eyes. Quickly, like a flickering candle about to consume its final bits of fillament, Krank had become estinguished, his blood shot eyes going dull and void of any life.
"Just a lil' bit of some me poison, it never killed anyone, at least anyone who's not me." Michael said while catching his breath, staring down his final assailant. He's speaking would be slow and pointed, as he focused on not letting his arms tremble, as the battering they took left them reeling in a pain he could feel slightly, dulled by the poison.
At that comment the armored Tuskir seemed to flinch as he got away from the body that had fallen ill. "You bleedin' bastard... Ya just slaughtered them with nary a second thought." He squealed angrily as he held his twin handaxes.
"Heh... hah... I'm sorry, but isn't that what you were going to do to me as well? Hmm... I smell a ~hypocrite~! But... it's alright. I'm one as well. So... lil' piggy. Are you going to tell me who orchestrated this whole... shindig for me, or... are you going to make me ask less nicely? You three don't feel like the brains of this whole operation." Michael asked while catching his breath, his eyes slipping to look at one of the dead bodies, before his mind flashed back at Spek... bleeding on the ground, for a moment.
The twin axe wielding Tuskir, stood up proper just about to take a fighting stance, but there was a clear hesitation in his movements. "I-I've nothin' more ta say to the likes of ya."
"Are you sure about that? Really think long and hard about it, 'cause it might change the amount of minutes you have to live into years. Trust me on one thing, when I say I'll find out the truth regardless whether you're alive or not, believe it, even if I have to awaken the dying flesh of your brethren and ask them who put you up to this, or yours for that matter. Three of you couldn't win against me. You got some extra armor on, you're like a fruit with a harder peel and I don't mind bashin' ya open to get to the squishy bits." Michael said with a calmness that overtook him akin to an actor in his moment of glory on the stage. His words spoke with a merciless gross ease, as if he was not talking to a person, but an animal he got tired of playing around with.
"Y-you-... you are going to be our doom. He knows you are. That's why we got paid extra rations to deal with you. Its... if you come with us, it will be the end o' the Rock Backs." The armored combatant as his breathing hiked with uncertainty.
Michael noticed immediately the change in dynamic, the confident fighter has started to lose steam in his resolve. 'Damn... is this what it feels like to be an actual devil's advocate.'
"Aha. So there is a need for food, if you are rationing. You were there with the rest, you saw what tools I brought to those Hay-yen. If you were to observe their encampment, you'd start to see them thrive. You know of what I spoke with Bruyza, this deal is in your people's favor and if doesn't prove fruitful, I'd be swarmed by your entire tribe. But you... you'd rob your people of the chance at a better life, because of what? Because someone said I'll ruin you all and paid you food to do it? With what proof was I accused? You saw proof of what I promised Bruyza, for the deal we made. And oh I love deals..." The human said as he lowered his arms, while starting to approach. His guard was down, his body loose, gesticulating with his hands as he advanced leisurely.
"Y-yes we were wondering about them at the time... eh? Stay back! D-don't get closer! Y-you're a daeman, that's all the proof that is needed!" The Tuskir yelled as he held one of the axes up, yet that didn't deter Michael.
The human kept approaching, just a bit slower than before. "Hey, I get it. You hear 'hell' and all the worst nightmares of your mind, come to surface. But you gotta remember. I have already made a deal with your boss. Daemen are deal makers, ain't they? Sadly, this time I was so pressed by the situation, I couldn't even sneak in some funnily worded clause to get me out of this situation. Bummer, heh. But, that's the good thing for you. As much as I really didn't want to go to your kingdom of rock eaters, I'm sadly forced to."
"W-wait... you didn't wan' ta come with us? How could I even trust a word out of your mouth?!" The boar man argued, still suspicious.
Michael sighed and facepalmed. "If you were in my place what would you choose to do if you had the power and didn't care much about morality or gave a fuck about people? First choice, stay in the tiny village that revels you for the effort you put in, which was a breeze for you, delight yourself with food and a bed full o' slaves that do your bidding... or be forced by a stupid situation, put on you by an armored mortal nobody and having to keep your end of the bargain towards your summoners and GO to the middle of the FUCKING MOUNTAINS to help some mortal meat sacks, that don't want to trust you, to not starve? Eh?! Please enlighten me. What would you have picked?!"
The Tuskir stared at him almost like a kid stared at a surprise pop quiz on a Friday. "Ehm... the first one?"
"Good hells below! You must be a fucking genius among your kin! Yes! The eating and fucking with low effort! Exactly! Of course... that is what you'd want!" Michael said slapping his own forehead as if he hadn't thought about it. "Yet... I am still here. On my way to meet Bruyza and I had to deal with you lot. So friend, my condolences for the loss of your allies, as little as I can care about them, I understand you most likely did. How about this. To make sure their deaths were not in vain. Take three minutes to really think on this one last time and then we can see. Maybe we go to Bruyza together, with two bodies needing funerals and an explanation to the situation OR... I go alone to Bruyza with three heads in a bloody sack, a half assed explanation and to reveal someone uses their rations to have his subjects do their bidding in secret behind his armored ass."
The Tuskir would hold his axe up for the longest three minutes of his life, while Michael was now just a few steps ahead of him, still relaxed, disarmingly leisure, in fact. The boar man's arm trembled as did the resolve in his gaze and soon enough... the weapon got lowered, which prompted Michael to sigh mentally with grattitude.

Kaidō's office, Onigashima 

Rooftop 

I tend to keep track of how many words I'm writing in a given time period because it helps me gauge where I'm at mentally with my writing, and it helps me adjust my goals going forward. We're approaching the halfway point in the year and I was wondering how everyone feels about where they're at so far this year. Thankfully this isn't a job and we're not being held to actual deadlines or anything of the sort, but I thought I'd ask in case other people like setting goals like I do, since I think it's fun to talk about.
As an aside, this doesn't necessarily have to be about word counts, really. If you measure progress another way, like how much you've written for an outline or how much of the worldbuilding process you've gotten through for a fic, or you finally have motivation after a spell of writer's block, that's absolutely progress. So I suppose I'm asking how writing is going for you based on how you measure your progress with your writing, and not necessarily from a strictly numbers point of view if that's not your speed.
For me, it's been the year of 'set more reasonable expectations'. I took a ~2-month hiatus at the end of last year because I was burned out and resolved to come back better than ever at the start of the year. I've definitely been plugging away at my fics pretty steadily, which I'm happy about. I haven't been as productive compared to last year, but the honest truth of the matter is that I've been making room for my other hobbies lately, which isn't really a bad thing even if it feels catastrophic that I'm not writing as much. ^_^;;;
That being said, I ran the numbers and if I keep up my current pace, I should just barely hit 4 million words posted on ao3 by the end of the year. :^) That's the goal I'd like to aim for, at least. I also have a short-term goal of finishing another chapter before the end of the this month since it would push me over 50k for the month of May and past 225k for the total so far this year. I feel like that's pretty achievable since I've still got the better half of a week, but we'll see!
Wishing everyone the best in what y'all are writing right now, and if you're not where you wish you were right now, just know that the year isn't even half over yet!

Husks Filth - Faster, no lunge wind-up Stray - Better tracking / prediction, faster charge-up. Schism - No longer lore-accurate (They regain their motor control and will shoot in a way similair to Maurice) Soldiers - Will try to charge at you at high speeds and dropkick you. Corpse Of King Minos - Punches will now created shockwaves similiar to explosions unless you parry them. Stalkers - Will sand you and you won't be able to fucking heal for the rest of the level unless you restart to the last checkpoint you weren't sanded in. (Or just somehow throw the thing at you / high priority enemies, and start acting like a weaker mannequin) Sisyphean insurrectionist - Slightly faster, the Maurice will randomly start to vibrate and blindly shoot out beams and projectiles. Furryman Ferryman - They will start forming the Idols if far away enough from you. (Or simply just cast lighting without really needing to do anything) Demons Malicious Face - Will try to quickly slam into you when you're close enough, dealing high damage. Andre Cerberi - Will stop fucking around and try to fist you after throwing their orb once. (And will try yoink (blue flash will be seen) you if you're mid-air and throw you against the ground.) Mannequins - Will try to pounce on you (can be parried) without a wind-up or warning after they wake up. (Heartattack% when?) Idols - No change Hideous Mass - Will not flip over upon getting enraged and will start spamming random attacks. Leviathan - Will eventually destroy both sides of the platform, leaving only the middle. Minotaur 1st phase - Faster, Acid deals higher damage. Minotaur 2st phase - Hammer hitting the ground will create shockwaves, faster attacks, will throw the acid at you. Machines Drones - Will begin flying over you more frequently, taking away your attention from enemies around you. Streetcleaners - Parkour abilities like short wall running, long jumps and sliding. Will also seperate from groups and try to attack you from the sides, will parry the projectiles back at you instand of to the side. (Since they were theoretically designed to take down still active war machines after the Final war.) Swordsmachines - Will keep the shotgun even when in phase 2, SOME attacks are unparriable when enraged (aka the lung-like slash, roundhouse sword throw thingy will be unparriable, but other sword slashes will still be parriable.) Mindflayers - Bigger specific body parts to distract you more frequently Will teleport to dodge slower projectiles and will finally be able to aim their lasers properly, but slowly. Mirage - The game will later force you to try to make you get her out on a date. (Wasting like 30 minutes of your life.) Sentries - Will now shoot your coins without using the wind-up. Guttermen - Upon shield break, they will start grabbing smaller enemies and throwing them over to you. Guttertank - Since they are made from the foundations of Guttermen, they will mimic them and also grab smaller enemies but throw them at you with much greater force. V2 1st fight - Slower but way more accurate revolver shots, will learn and begin shooting your coins if you overuse them. V2 2st fight - Will throw out only one coin to shot (to make it harder to react to), and use pump-charge shotgun instand to try to do explosive dashes on you. Upon entering second phase it will slide around to make them harder to hit. THR-1000 "EARTHMOVER" - you will have around 10 second to get on his legs before he eradicates you (since you don't really have that much plot armor for the other Earthmover to interfere in time) EARTHMOVER DEFENSE SYSTEM - Everything is faster EARTHMOVER BRAIN - Slightly Faster and higher damaging lasers, will fire the orb less frequently to avoid healing you from parries. Angels Virtures - Bigger beams, will blast / cover tanky but slow enemies in the beam to prevent you from getting closer and healing. Gabriel, The Judge of Hell - Ability to block slower projectiles with a shield made out of light (And say the "Foolishness Machine, Foolishness" each time he blocks your attacks). Upon getting enraged he will become faster at the cost of losing that blocking abbility due to being mad asf. Gabriel, The Apostate of Hate - In his first phase; he's fast as hell due to being mad asf again. In his Second phase; he will get the abbility to parry your knuckleblaster punches and slower projectiles using his swords, at the cost of being slightly slower. ??? Something Wicked - Now actually has a jumpscare when it kills you. (Heartattack%?) Cancerous Rodent - Will give you cancer If you stay near it for more then 10 seconds. (aka make you lose 1 hp every second) Very Cancerous Rodent - Will give you cancer if you stay near it for more then 5 seconds. Flesh Prison - More spawns, All of them are Malicious Faces, Let The Title of the Song come to Realit- A- Flesh Panopticon - More spawns, longer attacks, faster. Prime souls ...They are just slightly faster.

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The combined hammer of thirty interstellar nations had been dropped on Neldia one day prior to Terris’ infiltration there. Twelve standard hours had been spent in the outer system, a long and dreary slog to punch through the outer elements of the Neldian Armada and control the system’s resource-rich asteroid belt, and six hundred ships of both sides had been lost in just the opening stages of the engagement. Now the Coalition fleet was closing for the kill.
The united Coalition fleet was composed of three main combat forces; the incursion force, the distraction force, and the expansion force. The distraction force, around seven hundred Krell Imperial ships, was meant to launch probing attacks at Alliance colonies to distract and harass any UHA response. The incursion and expansion forces, around two thousand ships in total, were an international attack force meant to conquer Neldia.
The mission of the attack fleet at Neldia was twofold, with the expansion force spreading out and securing control over the outer star system and the thousand-ship incursion force making a hard burn straight to Neldian orbit. The expansion fleet, originally massing another thousand warships, had lost two hundred in the bitter fighting near their wormhole exit points. The incursion fleet, made entirely of now-outdated warships from the Krell space fleet and led personally by Flag Admiral Senkiv Yon, had lost only seventy warships as they engaged the vanguard of the Neldian Armada.
Now, they were fighting fiercely through the asteroid belt just outside Neldia’s stellar orbit. They moved along the ecliptic plane, surging through any Alliance resistance like one thousand charging bulls, and in that moment even the most fanatical human zealots questioned their mastery of the stars.
“Admiral,” reported an officer on the deck of the Republic’s Claw, “The Imperial fleet has reached the inner asteroid belt. Resistance is fierce, but surmountable. Admiral Yon reports minimal losses.”
Admiral Jedik and his two subordinate officers, Junfeng Lin of the Protectorate of Earth and Wedol Venin of the Stralqi Enclave, were commanding the battle in the outer system. Admiral Lin’s contingent had more tonnage, being backed by the Stralqi Enclave’s capital-heavy fleet and reinforced by as many nations as could afford to send ships, but Admiral Jedik compensated for this in the skill of his officers and the training of his crews. Ierad Republic space forces were renowned for their experience and skill.
“Minimal losses?” Admiral Jedik looked at the status map. The Imperial contingent was holding strong at just over nine hundred. Their enemy, backed by stationary defenses and with the home field advantage, numbered just under two hundred. “Well, that makes sense.” He looked around the room. “Well, let’s wrap things up in the outer system, then. The Krell seem to be handling things nicely enough.”
The twin dreadnoughts Republic’s Claw and Beijing were leading the assault, sweeping across the outer system in command of two separate battlegroups in a formation not unlike the expanding arc of a circle. The Coalition fleet had mostly been fitted with projectorless shields and some advanced weapons by now, giving them a significant advantage against any Alliance foes they encountered, but they were outdated hulks when compared to the Terran armaments of the galaxy’s two strongest warships.
Six Alliance battleships entered missile range. They launched salvoes at the Claw and her escort. The weapons of Earth were about to prove mighty indeed. “Tracking six clusters of missiles, coming from the battleships, admiral!” shouted a fleet liaison. “Your orders?”
The Republic’s Claw surged ahead, and her escorts fell back. They could not defend themselves like she was about to. “Don’t waste the lasers on them, we’ll need to burn through shields if we want to perform a boarding action.” As Jedik ordered, the Claw focused her laser batteries on the forwardmost of the six battleships. Their escort fleet, around twenty corvettes and frigates, now engaged from the sides. They fired their missiles. Admiral Jedik’s ship was now almost totally surrounded by incoming nuclear weapons.
“Charge the EMP weapons, wait for close-range contact before firing,” came the orders. “Gravity artillery, I want two groups of cannons split lengthwise along the ship. Each group is to pick a target from the small craft and engage at will. Don’t stop firing until they can no longer fire back!”
The old, outdated design of missile launcher used by most of the Coalition fleet used railgun technology to accelerate a massive kinetic payload tipped with a low-yield nuclear warhead. This weapon, while effective, was far from perfect. Gravity artillery was the next best thing.
Several hundred missiles flew from the Republic’s Claw like a flock of demented bats, none of which contained a dense magnetic metal payload. This was because they did not need it. These weapons were propelled using artificial gravity. They passed the Alliance missiles a short distance from the Republic’s Claw, a few detonating prematurely to take some enemy warheads with them, but most flew on unimpeded.
Then three things happened at once.
First, the missiles entered close range. Contact with the shields was estimated to happen within thirty seconds, and even the best laser grid could no longer stop them all.
Second, the Republic's Claw opened fire with one of its two newest weapons. Electromagnetic pulse directors. The EMP directors were next to useless against properly shielded targets, like warships, but they had a very wide arc and they were deadly against unshielded missiles. The entire salvo was rendered inert in under ten seconds.
Finally, to dodge the inert weapons, the Claw stopped accelerating. In fact, she even turned around and fired her engines in the other direction for a brief moment before flipping back to face the enemy and flying full speed toward her foes. The ship was now slowed down just enough to make the still-moving missiles miss completely.
Six thousand nuclear missiles sailed harmlessly into the darkness of space.
“Friendly missile contact!” whooped an elated fleet liaison. The actual gunnery officers, the ones who did the shooting, were spread throughout control centers around the ship. “Two-thirds of our missiles impacted, admiral!”
This was the result of the Terran-made gravity weapons, the Claw's second new toy. Now that a magnetic payload was no longer needed, all of its mass could be used up by propulsion systems, fuel tanks, anti-laser heat sinks, or even a more powerful nuclear payload. They were much faster, much more maneuverable, and much harder to hit. The automated defenses of the Alliance fleet used algorithms designed to counter slow, clumsy railgun-launched missiles. These new GLMs, or gravity-launched missiles, were superweapons in comparison. And, since the mass of the missiles did not change, their kinetic impact was still just as powerful.
“Two confirmed kills!” an officer reported. “Second salvo is already in flight!”
Laser beams now began to rake the hull of the Republic’s Claw. The Alliance fleet had received a bloody nose, that much was certain, but it had been holding back to test Jedik’s capabilities. Now, it was not. “Call the escorts forward, and have them engage the enemy that surrounds us,” Jedik ordered his senior officers. “The Claw will engage the battleships, backed by this destroyer contingent.” Ten destroyers were highlighted blue.
“Admiral, if I may,” Colonel Talta, more sure of herself after months aboard the Republic’s Claw, raised a wing. Jedik gave a sign to continue. “Why not focus gravity weapons toward the battleships? Their escort should disengage from us soon.” Even then, they could both see the red blips of the Alliance small craft turning to do battle with their Ierad Republic counterparts. Now that their point-defenses were occupied with the Republic escort’s missile salvoes, Jedik’s second artillery barrage was even more effective.
“A fair suggestion.” Jedik sent an approving glance at the young colonel. “Artillery, send salvoes at the battleship our lasers have been hitting. Lasers, switch targets.”
Now, only the battleships were firing on the Republic’s Claw. The dreadnought's destroyer escort, which had just entered particle weapons range, returned this fire with targeted strikes from their lasers and spinal weapons.
A new star appeared in the night sky. Then it disappeared. Now, Admiral Jedik was facing only five battleships.
“Escort fleet is sustaining heavy casualties, sir,” an officer told him, killing the short-lived joy of victory. “We’re down to sixteen ships.” The entire Ierad Republic contingent, not including the few ships that were assisting Admiral Lin and his international strike force, consisted of five hundred ships. Most were out of combat range.
“Wing Admiral Salentis,” Jedik addressed the auxiliary officer standing at his side, “Assume command of the escort contingent. I want minimal casualties, but keep those laser beams off our hull.” The wing admiral, though he was meant to serve as merely an assistant, did as ordered. His advisory role did not typically speak to his experience with command, but Jedik knew from his file that Salentis was the most competent man for the job.
“Range to particle weapons lock?” Jedik asked. Wing Admiral Salentis, and a contingent of lower-ranking advisors, had already begun issuing orders. Several hundred thousand kilometers of empty space stood between him and his foes. His particle weapons were just barely not in range.
“In range, sir!” Now they were. At Jedik’s order, all twelve of the Republic’s Claw’s heavy particle cannons opened up on the weakest of the five battleships. They returned fire immediately, beams of charged ions pounding her shields like hail, but the barrier held strong in the face of their barrage.
The destroyers launched another salvo, their much more powerful particle weapons adding to the mix, and the combined power of the Republic fleet took mere minutes to send another battleship to an airless grave.
“They claim the stars are their birthright,” Admiral Jedik scoffed. “See to it that they die among them.” Another salvo hit his shields. The gravity weapons were nearly destroyed by now, struck and melted through by high-intensity laser beams, but the particle batteries and the energy shields held strong in the face of enemy fire.
“Our escorts are winning the day, sir,” reported Wing Admiral Salentis. “Eleven ships remain, but we’re facing only nine. The destroyers can redirect fire and finish them off nicely.”
Jedik ran a brief mental calculation. “Set to it, then. Our shields are at…” He looked at a graph. The Alliance lasers had begun to strip away the Claw’s point-defense system, having destroyed most of the electromagnetic pulse weapons, and enemy missiles were becoming harder and harder to shoot down. The shields were being drained exponentially faster. “Too low. We need these destroyers here.”
Those destroyers were not needed elsewhere. Within ten minutes, only the battleships remained to face Admiral Jedik’s fleet. Their laser beams had managed to strip the Republic’s Claw entirely of its smaller weapons, but the thick armor of her hull and her particle cannons protected them from all but the most intense energy fire. The Claw’s projectorless barrier, something the Alliance ships did not have, was holding strong against their more powerful munitions.
“Shields at thirty-five percent,” reported an officer. “Shall I send out the maintenance teams?” Thousands of spacewalk-equipped combat engineers waited in specially-made airlocks within the Republic’s Claw, awaiting the order to spill into the void and commence battlefield repairs on the hull of their ship. The task was very useful, but it was also very dangerous.
“Negative,” Jedik told him. “There will be too many casualties. Continue firing on the forwardmost battleship.”
The four battleships, having been raked by laser fire from the destroyers, were also shells of their former selves. Their captains had deployed maintenance teams mid-battle, spending their crews’ lives to keep them in the fight, but the engineers were not numberless. These vessels were now entirely unable to repair themselves without the help of a drydock. “Admiral!” a fleet liaison announced. “Admiral Yon reports contact with the Supreme Leader’s Armada. She estimates boarding-action range in two hours.”
Admiral Jedik knew well that the fleet she was fighting would be the prize of the battle, worth even more than an Alliance cradle world. That was, after all, why her nation's fleet was the one moving to claim them.
Admiral Jedik, constrained by duty, wished he could have done the same. “I’d like a full tactical readout of the battle sent to my ship,” said Jedik. “Have the analytics unit compare enemy designs to our own experimental weapons, both theoretical and not.” That was done easily enough. Admiral Jedik resisted the temptation to expand his holomap to watch Admirals Yon and Lin fight, instead trusting them to win their own battles. Even still, it was hard to let his Terran friend command a fleet unsupervised.
He knew that Admiral Lin had come a long way since the disaster of his first space engagement. He still feared that he might not have come far enough.
“Admiral! Battleship kill!” Now, only three Alliance warships remained. They were falling faster, much faster in fact, as the combined power of the Republic fleet fell upon them. The Claw, however, was in similar condition. The enemy’s twenty-four particle cannons had not been kind to her energy shields. If Admiral Jedik had more ships, he could have pulled off a more bloodless victory, but he had what he had and he did what he could. Now, he was paying the price for it.
“I want our escort fleet to move like so and outflank the battleships,” said Jedik, manipulating the holographic display. Faint apparitions of Republic craft, in stripes of lime instead of unbroken green, appeared to mark where they were ordered to go. “Deploy the maintenance teams, and close to boarding range on the ship with the weakest shields.” This placed his enemies in a trap. If they focused on the Claw, they would be outflanked and hit from the rear. If they focused on her escort, they would be giving a dangerous enemy time to repair and rebuild. Neither was a tempting option.
“They’re diverting fire against the escort fleet, sir, but their particle weapons are still hitting us!” Beams of charged particles pounded ever-weakening shields. The Claw and her destroyers returned fire, but it was not enough to stop the barrage. “Shields at ten percent!”
The ship’s shields had lasted hours under heavy fire. Against such a powerful barrage, with the outer armor already melted away by laser fire, the hull would be lucky to survive thirty minutes. Fleet Admiral Yegel Jedik, king of the airless abyss and guardian angel of thirty billion people, now had to face the facts.
He had miscalculated. And now people were going to die.
“Decrease power to weapons,” he said, trying to keep the fear from his voice, “And boost the shields as much as they will go. I want all nonessential systems powered down, including engines. The energy barrier has to remain up.” The deed was done. The shields were boosted. Still, the number on the holographic display ticked ever lower. “Men, women, soldiers, I’m proud of you all.”
What Jedik needed, he knew, was a shift in the paradigm. He was unable to provide one. Thankfully, someone else did.
A data recording, encoded in the Neldian hypercom station hours ago and transmitted just now, was received by every starship or space station in the Alliance that possessed a working hypercom. It bore the sector admiralty’s seal, though its sender was anonymous, and those who saw it obeyed its instructions reverently.
First, they transmitted it to as many people as they could. Second, they watched it themselves.
They all recognized the face they saw.
“My name, for those of you unaware, is Sheparda Dama." Their worldview was about to change forever. "I was formerly the sector admiral of the Neldian Armada, loyal and true to this day, but my discovery of our leader's treason has caused him to brand me the traitor. In the name of humanity and all I have done for it, listen to me now.”
Admiral Yegel Jedik, who had intercepted the video in a wideband broadcast from all three battleships, listened eagerly. “I am sure many of you have heard of the defeat at the battle of Earth. I am sure many of you have been told that our noble vanguard was cut down there by a heartless xeno fleet, beautiful crimson battleships afire in the night as they tried and failed to save those humans from their own primitive folly.” They had. That was the message Janus Ora had spread among his people. Only a very few knew otherwise. “That message is false.”
By now, the Alliance fleet was in total disarray. Loyalist officers were trying to silence Dama’s message wherever they heard it spoken. Many times, they succeeded. Most of the time, they failed. Arguments and even brawls broke out on the decks of the Neldian Armada’s ships, stopping just short of gunfire, as Secret Security Service commissars and their black-armored detachments fought to silence this traitor and spit on his name. Wherever they went, they crushed dissent like an insect underfoot.
But they could not be everywhere. “The fleet was not there to save Earth. They were there to destroy it. I know this because, shameful as it may be, I was the one who carried out the order.” Now, there was gunfire. “The footage you are about to see is real.” Once, Janus Ora had revealed to him knowledge of a hypercom transmission he had taken every step to conceal. The warning he had sent to save Earth.
Today, the tables turned. “Alliance troops have encountered resistance of a nature never before seen,” said the hologram being projected ten billion times all across human space. “A resistance so brutal, so effective, that no xeno could ever produce it.” The hologram of Janus Ora, when he spoke to Admiral Dama all those years ago, and pronounced the death sentence of eight billion innocent humans.
The battleships ceased fire. All the Alliance ships ceased fire. There was panic among their crews as their most unshakable faith was shattered. Shots were fired. Marines in red armor, painted with the blood of their crewmates, stormed down halls. Loudspeakers crackled with frantic announcements.
And, in the midst of all this chaos, the Galactic Coalition pressed their assault. “This war is built on lies,” said the crimson-uniformed man who had just exposed the biggest one. “They say the xeno cannot be reasoned with. I’ve spoken with one myself. They say the xeno cannot be trusted, or cooperated with, but their pledge to defend Earth was honored in full.” The fleet was in complete disarray. The colonies and cradles were under martial law. The Triple-S hackers were now in full force in cyberspace, cutting away any trace they could find of this traitorous transmission.
It was too late. Nothing could be done about it now. “We are superior because we think for ourselves,” said the hologram, still clad in his sector admiral’s uniform though all the Alliance symbols had been stripped from it. “Because we know when we have been led astray. And we know what to do to those who spoke the lie.”
It would take many hours before the United Human Alliance authorities could regain control over the narrative. Many days before the last active dissenter was quashed. But the damage was done. Humanity would never look to Janus Ora as their hero again.
Admiral Jedik took advantage of this chaos. “Boarders away!” announced a Republic officer.
A thousand breaching pods, or four thousand Republic marines in powered combat gear, shot through the black against a barrage of laser and missile fire. One in ten did not make it through. The enemy’s shields fell in time, however, and nine hundred jet-black assault pods landed on patches of unprotected hull. The battleship they were boarding was taken off-guard by the assault, and their flak fire was scattered as a result, but their previous disagreements took a back seat the second Admiral Jedik’s boarders launched.
Janus Ora, and his alliance, were no longer seen as humanity’s heroes. Now, they were a necessary evil.
The other two battleships opened fire on the Republic’s Claw with renewed fervor, but they had held fire for too long after the revelations hit. The Claw’s shields held. Her heavy guns returned fire eagerly. And her escort ships, unphased by the facts they had learned long ago, began swinging around to the rear of the Alliance fleet.
Heavy batteries directed their fire backwards. Alarms blared on the decks of ships. A Republic warship exploded, making a new star in the sky if only for a moment. Admiral Jedik could win this, but it would be costly. Too many people would die.
He realized, too late, that this could have been handled better. He had wanted a test of the new Terran weapons, and a test he had got, but at the cost of too many of his people. Even now, his own flagship teetered on the brink of destruction. How many families would grieve after this? How many fathers would see their childrens’ names engraved on the black stone of a memorial obelisk? No matter the number, his answer would always be the same. Too many.
Then, for the second time that day, the paradigm shifted.
The software time-bombs, implanted in the Neldian datasphere hours ago and spread to every ship of the Alliance fleet through relayed transmissions, activated.
First, there was mere disarray. A common enemy and a common cause, humanity’s cause, had restored order throughout the Alliance fleet well enough. Now, however, there was chaos. Systems began to fail. Shields flickered and died. Gravity plates supercharged and crushed crews to the deck. What would normally have been a minor nuisance had, thanks to external factors and sheer dumb luck, now became a nightmare. With the Alliance fleet’s technology officers distracted with burning away Dama’s treasonous recording, it took the Neldian Armada precious seconds to react to the threat in their computer systems.
By then, it was already too late.
“Battleship kill!” One of the three Alliance battleships suffered a near-total shield failure. It only lasted five seconds, but under combat conditions, five seconds was all it took. Sixty fusion bombs detonated and burned through her fragile engines. The reactor followed not long after.
The one Jedik’s men had boarded was still fighting, but her shield projectors were burned or disabled and her cannon fire grew more sparse by the minute. All reports from the boarding teams confirmed the same story; they had taken the outer layers and were using Vanguard operators to covertly disable the self-destruct system. Once that was complete, Jedik would send a second wave of marines to board and capture the ship.
The last remaining Alliance warship, her shield projectors flickering and failing and her railguns having long since fallen silent, put up almost no resistance at all. Six battleships fell in under six hours.
“Ship status?” Admiral Jedik asked. Many systems were in the red. Nearly the entire maintenance crew was missing in action. The outer hull had been almost entirely melted through by concentrated laser fire. Just thirty minutes more, and even the particle guns would have been destroyed. “I want the fleet status as well.”
Eighteen Republic warships had been destroyed in that fight. A hundred and sixty-two across the entire Defense Force battlegroup. Admiral Lin’s contingent, led by the two dreadnoughts Beijing and Midnight Requiem, was down two hundred and nineteen ships. Millions of lives in total.
“Admiral! The Imperial fleet has entered close-range combat with the main Alliance battlegroup!” Once again, the paradigm was about to shift. This time, it would not be in his favor.
Admiral Jedik watched the Krell fleet as they closed in on the enemy. The two opposing forces were nearly nose-to-nose on the battlefield, only a few hundred kilometers between their two front lines. On one side, five hundred of the best warships this universe had ever known surged forward like demons from the gates of Hell. Their weapons were strong, and their shields were formidable, but entering boarding range would only give their enemy an opportunity to steal those weapons and shields intact. And Jedik knew they could not stand against the Imperial fleet.
Could they?
“Something’s not right,” he thought aloud. “Something’s wrong.” He racked his brain, taking into account every variable, and spending precious moments deep in thought while the Alliance fleet burned ever closer. He had to wonder, why would the Alliance fleet close the distance so eagerly?
Of course, he realized too late. There was a trap set here.
“Contact Admiral Yon,” he barked, knowing nothing he could do would save her fleet. If there was a trap, it was about to be sprung. “Advise caution, and tell her ships to back up. She's doing exactly what they expected of her!”
The message was sent. Jedik knew it would fail. Were she a servant of the Republic, or he an Imperial, there would have been trust between them, but they were agents of two rival superpowers and neither trusted the other to act against their homeland's interests. Perhaps, if he had solid evidence, things would have been different, but he did not. Now, the Imperial fleet would pay the price for their lack of trust.
This was not the first time a battle had been lost due to petty Coalition infighting. It would not be the last.
“No response, sir.” The liaison turned to Jedik, who was still looking at the holographic map. The two warring fleets grew ever closer. “Shall I resend the message?”
“They heard us the first time.” Admiral Jedik closed his eyes in solemn acceptance. He prayed his hunch was wrong. He had no mind for watching a massacre.
The neutron beams of Janus Ora’s ships had been able to fire on Admiral Yon’s forward element for a long time now. They had slightly less range than a battleship’s main guns. The Alliance admiral had told his ships to hold fire, however, and he waited eagerly for the last ship of the Krell Empire’s fleet to close the distance and enter range. Now, as the rear guard crossed the threshold from which there could be no turning back, he knew he had won.
Five seconds passed. Then ten. Admiral Jedik felt a great sense of relief flood him. "It appears I was wrong."
“Admiral!” a fleet liaison gasped, horrified, changing his mind irreversibly on the matter. It now appeared that he had been right.
Nine hundred ships of the Imperial Space Navy had engaged five hundred ships of Janus Ora’s personal armada. By the time the neutron beams were in range, the Imperial fleet had dwindled to eight hundred and fifty. Their enemy was losing ships at a far greater rate, with breaching pods and munitions slamming into the hulls of the survivors, and Admiral Yon had felt sure of a Coalition victory. Even the enemy's technological advantage, it seemed, could not compare to the strength of sheer numbers.
Then the neutron cannons began firing. The Krell admiral’s hypothesis was quickly proven wrong.
Neutrons were invisible to light, massless, and only detectable upon impact with another particle. They were focused into narrow beams, impacting critical areas all across Imperial ships. Armor, shields, radiation defenses, all were useless against these weapons. The Coalition fleet only learned they were being attacked when their warships began to explode.
The first ships to fall were the dreadnoughts. Admiral Yon’s flagship, one of four in the galaxy, was hit seven times in such a way that the beams would cover as much of the ship’s internals as possible. Half the bridge crew dropped dead where they stood as a neutron lance intersected their stations. The remaining half hadn’t even begun to panic when a series of neutron beams overloaded the ship’s reactor and sent them all to an airless grave.
The other dreadnoughts, barely half the size of Admiral Yon’s command ship, attempted to evade. Even if they were nimble as skimmers or fast as missiles, the outcome would have been the same. Within sixty seconds, every dreadnought in the Imperial fleet was reduced to cosmic dust.
Then came the battleships. Their crews were disciplined enough not to panic, but not wise enough to know they were lost. They fought and died at their stations, defiant until the end. Even if they had tried to flee, it would have been a hopeless effort. The last Imperial battleship exploded into molten shrapnel one hundred and nine seconds after the neutron beams began to fire.
The destroyers, maintaining distance, believed themselves safe from this onslaught. After all, the Alliance had used their weapons only when the Krell fleet had closed to boarding range. That was practically a knife fight between ships. The destroyer contingent was safely away from the Alliance battle fleet, and even if they were charged, they had powerful reverse thrusters to back up while maintaining heavy fire.
Their illusion of safety was destroyed at roughly the same time as their ships.
Now, two minutes after their victory had seemed certain, the Krell fleet was in total retreat. Covering fire, organized tactics, inter-fleet cooperation, all were forgotten in the panic caused by the loss of their capital ships. It mattered nothing. Even if they had acted as one body, and made not a single error, the best they could have done was die a few seconds later.
Fleet Admiral Yegel Jedik, the man who it was said could not even conceive of a defeat, looked at the holographic map in abject horror.
The entire Krell Imperial fleet had been destroyed. Not a single Imperial ship remained. Just over four hundred Alliance Navy warships had annihilated twice their number with ease.
All in all, the slaughter took less than five minutes.
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Something that I think has been missing from the discourse about the TMO cars is that TM2020 is often played in Rounds mode. COTD, Versus, Finalist, etc. are popular, endearing formats. Many players do hunt campaign maps, or hunt TOTD, or play RPGs, but unlike previous installments of the franchise, Rounds is the dominant game mode.
Rounds mode is fantastic for StadiumCar. This is how competitive Trackmania has always been played - and for good reason. Mistakes are consistently punished: a bad drift costs you 0.1s, a horrible drift costs you 0.3s, a wall touch on grass/dirt costs 1-2s, on tech 2-3s, on speed tech 3-4s. Flying off the track costs 3-7 seconds depending on where the most recent checkpoint was. Everyone understands the rules, plays by the rules, risks by the rules. The better player almost always wins - it feels fair and consistent.
Rounds mode is and has always been horrendous for most other cars. That’s not a knock on the cars themselves, the cars are great! But they aren’t fun to play Rounds on because mistakes with these cars are punished in bizarre and unintuitive ways. A wall touch costs essentially nothing. Steering 64% when you should’ve steered 63% costs anywhere between 0.5s and 10s. Having one unit too much speed causes a slide out. The concept of “risking” feels odd. The winner is not necessarily the best player but rather the one whose mistakes were punished the least by the Trackmania gods. It feels weird, unfair, and unsatisfying.
This doesn’t matter anywhere near as much in Time Attack modes because it’s my run without mistakes against your run without mistakes. The Trackmania gods are removed from the equation and it feels fair and consistent again.
A lot of players have experienced displeasure with the TMO cars but I don’t think the problem is the cars themselves. Hunting is still fun. We’re just playing the wrong modes with them.
Anyway, this was a lot of words to say that I don’t think future cars are going to play any better than the TMO cars - Rounds mode will also not be fun on these cars. Until we stop cramming a square peg into a round hole and find other modes to play, my hypothesis is that these issues continue for the foreseeable future.

(Hey! I’m F looking for a Warhammer 40K roleplay. Feel free to shoot me a message if you’re interested.)
The war for Octarius had been a bloody one. Though I really did not know much about the interstellar war itself it had been rumored that some brain dead inquisitor had been responsible for bringing the Orks and the Tyranids together. The ensuing chaos had caused nothing short of destruction on an apocalyptic level that needed to be contained at all costs. Many Imperial forces were sent in to the sector, my own included.
My name is Lt. Elise Veylan, commander officer of the Elysian Drop Troops, 34th advanced reconnaissance platoon. While the Elysians specialized in air superiority and boarding actions, making sure the flyboys knew where to drop their bombs was my specialty.
The battle for Numeria Prime had been a war of attrition against the greenskin menace. In the early days of the war, war boss Grimskull had captured the Hive City of Astoria. Several regiments had been mobilized to contain the threat and immediately the Imperium immediately found itself in siege footing. Trenches were built and many guns deployed all in the name of containing the ork menace.
Several months of attrition warfare had seen massive casualties on all sides but the Orks were becoming more powerful and the ammunition the munitorum had sent was running low. The commander of the offensive decided that the siege would need to be broken and thus the Elysians were called to action.
Although we were not siege warfare specialists, the Imperial navy had requisitioned a large fleet of marauder bombers for the campaign, all that was left now was to drop the bombs in the right spot and then the rest of the regiments here would be able to retake the hive, in theory.
.
In my 10 year service to the regiment, I had quite the track record. Even as a recruit I had a knack for daring raids. Some called my behavior reckless. Others said I simply had a death wish. Either way, command could not argue with the results. Though my methods were unorthodox, I accomplished my missions. So it was that when high command needed someone to put the strike package on target, my platoon was called into action.
It was early in the morning when we found ourselves soaring across the battered wasteland aboard our valkyries. The air in the rear cabin was intense. Many of my men knew the odds of this mission. Even so, time was on our side and I had been given strict orders to not take any unnecessary risks in the operation. Our target was the hive city’s ancient heat sinks just on the outskirts of the Northern perimeter. If we could destroy those, no doubt the xenos inside would be unable to regulate the hives systems. It would not be long after that the hive would begin to collapse on itself. What I was not prepared for however, was the stiff resistance.
The heat sinks had been completely surrounded by flakk towers and all sorts of makeshift fortifications, clearly some big Mek had been having a field day with the hives armoury. With little ancillary support to call upon, it would have been up to us alone to make the drop and paint the target. I made the call and given the chance, I would do it again…
Before we knew it, my men and I were gravchuting down into the perilous battlefield below. Before we had even made it over our drop site, one of our valkyries had exploded in midair, another descending in flames once its passengers had disembarked. The battlefield was complete chaos. All around us we were set upon by Orks and heavily outnumbered. The only thing that kept us alive was our quick thinking and tight battle formation as we moved toward a large rocky hill where we could gain clear sight to our target.
.
Even with our speed and precision, our forces were dwindling. What had once been 40 men was now barely 20 and our third and fourth Valkyries had been destroyed trying to provide what limited air support they could. This was a nightmare scenario but there was no looking back. Once we had reached our objective, I placed the laser on its target and from there it was difficult to remember.
I only seemed able to recall the mass of explosions and earth shattering quakes of massive bombs raining down around us. Most everyone on the surface was thrown from their feet, myself included. The rest of it was a blur of blood and violence.
When I finally came through I found myself overlooking a ruined battlefield at the break of dawn. The heat sinks had been destroyed and so had our enemy, but at the cost of far more than anyone could have imagined. Only 7 of the original 40 remained. Four Valkyries and their crews had also been destroyed but we had won.
I dusted myself off and looked back toward our lines where I could see another flight of Valkyries approaching. I had ordered my radio man to call in for extraction and at some point during the chaos, I guess his message made it through. I savored the thought and glanced at his corpse with a somber expression. “Secure a landing zone.” I ordered my remaining soldiers as they fanned out, tossing out green smoke grenades and IR flares around us.
As the Valkyries came near, I dusted myself off best I could and slung my lascarbine over my shoulder, making way toward the landing zone. I was sure our relief would be wanting a situation report.

Current Rankings: Ice Dancers, Bulldogs, Pranksters, Sisters, Extreme Girls, Jocks, Mother & Daughter, Father & Son, Tennis Rivals, Police Cadets, Party Dudes, Rockers, Best Friends, Villains, Goths, Fashion Bloggers
Episode 8: Hawaiian Honeyruin
"Last time on the Ridonculous Race. Our teams paid a visit to Count Dracula's creepy crib, and it terrified everyone. Almost."
"Oh yes, the Goths cracked their first smiles, but other teams cracked under the pressure. The Ice Dancers grabbed first place, and Lightning caught wind of Val's crush on Usain."
"Sadly, Ryan had difficulty doing the challenge and Stephanie had difficulty being supportive, and by the time they were done, it was too late."
"Who's paradise will become troubled? Hold on to your hats. It's time for the Ridonculous Race."
(Theme Song)
"We're back in Transylvania, where yesterday's first place team is about to get today's first travel tip," Don said as the Ice Dancers approached the Don Box.
Jacques pressed the button and grabbed the tip. "Take a donkey cart to Bucharest and fly to…" they both became starstruck. "Hawaii!"
"Hawaii, home of beautiful sunshine, ukuleles, and shirts that should only be worn ironically," Don educated.
"When the teams land, they'll need to find this Don Box," Don looked down at the Don Box, and it was wearing an orange Hawaiian shirt. "Very funny. Was that you, wardrobe?" he asked his earpiece in annoyance, and he got laughter in response.
The teams were now on donkey carts. Each one had three teams, though the last place team had to travel by themselves.
The Ice Dancers, Bulldogs, and Pranksters were on the first cart. The Ice Dancers were controlling the cart, and the Bulldogs and Pranksters were having a conversation.
"And so we rigged the water fountains at our schools so that it'll spray soda at whoever's unfortunate to get a drink," Val said.
"The teachers and students should be thanking us," Windsor continued. "Most of the time, the water is dry and not refreshing."
"We have something better than that one," Bite grinned. "We once let loose a family of rats in the school hallways."
"It took five days for the rats to be tracked down, and we did get a month of detention, but those five days of no school were worth it!" Bark boasted before high-fiving Bite.
While the Pranksters looked at each other in surprise, the Ice Dancers were just shown to be bored.
World Interview: Ice Dancers
"Playing is for children," Josee said. "We stay focused on our goals at all times."
"I'm so focused, I haven't washed my boxers since the race started," Jacques added.
Josee covered her nose in disgust. "That's not focused. That's gross."
Jacques got mad. "Well, maybe some people think your lucky rabbit's foot is gross."
Josee took out her rabbit's foot. "Don't listen to him, Bun Bun," she kissed it.
World Interview: Pranksters
"We like bubble wrapping school chairs and putting hot sauce into people's meals for laughs," Val said.
"But obviously, we don't go too far to the point where someone is seriously injured or badly affected by our pranks," Windsor stated.
Interviews End
The first cart ran over some rocks, and it shook the entire transportation. Josee's lucky rabbit's foot jumped out of her pocket and fell to the ground as a result, but she was unaware of it and the cart continued.
The second cart was shown. The Jocks have control of the donkey. As for the Extreme Girls and Sisters, they were playing a game of charades. Kitty had her hands shaped like a camera, and the Extreme Girls were trying to guess what it was.
"Is it a box?" Paris asked. "Or better yet, a sponge?"
"Click," Kitty gave the clue.
"I got it," France smiled. "It's a camera."
"Correct," Kitty nodded. "You two are really good at charades."
"And you're really good at reading our minds," France responded. "We hate boredom."
"Tell me about it," Kitty put her hand on France's shoulder. "Donkey carts are super slow."
"Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to Kitty," Emma pulled Kitty away.
"What's going on?" Kitty asked in an annoyed tone of voice.
‘What happened to our "no alliance" agreement?” Emma asked.
“I didn't form an alliance. And I never agreed to your agreement,” Kitty responded.
Outside Interview: Extreme Girls
"Kitty's really fun to hang with," France said, "but we need to make sure that we don't distract each other. You know how competitive her sister is."
"Yeah, definitely," Paris agreed. "Emma reminds us of a lot of strict people in our neighborhood."
Interview Ends
The scene cut to the teams on the third cart. Father & Son, Mother & Daughter, and Tennis Rivals were in it.
"I must say, this donkey reeks!" Gerry complained.
"I've seen your dirty underwear and socks," Pete said, "and they smell like air freshener compared to this.
"Luckily, my clothes are clean, or we would've died from a bad stench," Gerry quipped, and the old men chuckled.
In the front of the cart, Father and Son were in charge of holding the donkey. "How old are those two?" Junior asked.
"Never mind them," Dwayne said. "Some people just love to tease, but they love each other with their hearts." He wrapped his arm around his son. "Right, sporto?"
"Yeah, sure Dad," Junior replied, uncomfortable with the hug.
"You're so lucky you got to bring your dad," Taylor said.
"Oh, I'm the lucky one." Dwayne told her. "I bet doing this trip with your mom is pretty awesome too though, right?"
"Taylor's more of a daddy's girl," Kelly explained.
"Daddy and I have loads in common. Like, we both love being successful. And we both hate avocado," Taylor said.
The Police Cadets, Rockers, and Party Dudes were on the fourth cart. The donkey let out a fart, and MacArthur, the Party Dudes, and the Rockers laughed. The only one who didn't was a disgusted Sanders.
"From Transylvania to Hawaii. Man, this race is epic!" Brody said.
"Donkey, if I ate something beforehand, I'd send one right back at you!" MacArthur told the donkey.
Outside Interview: Police Cadets
"I can't back down from a good fart down. Personal pride," MacArthur said.
"This is so unprofessional," Sanders sighed in disappointment.
Interview Ends
On cart number five, the Villains and Best Friends were all asleep. The only ones who were awake were the Goths in front of the cart, and they both sighed.
World Interview: Goths
"Leaving Romania is tough," Ennui said. "But leaving Romania to go to a tropical paradise full of sunshine and happiness?"
He and Crimson sighed.
Interview Ends
The Fashion Bloggers were in the last cart. "It's bad enough that we have to travel in our own cart," Jen started, "but we have to be up close to a donkey that really reeks."
"Tell me about it," Tom sighed, "but we need to focus on how we're gonna advance in the game. We almost got eliminated because of an argument that was really childish."
"Lesson learned. We should never let our blog drift us apart," Jen said.
"It's a co-op effort from the day it begins and the day it ends," Tom said.
Outside Interview: Fashion Bloggers
"We usually fly by the race without working with anybody," Tom brought up, "but we need to have an alliance with one team if we want to promote our blog."
Interview Ends
The plane landed on the runway of Hawaii with all the teams inside.
"As is the custom in Hawaii, teams are greeted with a lovely necklace made of local flowers," Don narrated as the Villains and Fashion Bloggers walked up to a Hawaiian woman holding up a lei.
"Orchids?!" Max spat in disdain. "I am allergic to these rotten things."
"He's right," Tammy told the woman. "He'll sneeze profusely around them, so we'll pass."
The Villains went to the right, and the Fashion Bloggers walked up to the woman. "We'll take two of these," Jen told her. "Leis are so on trend in Hawaii."
Outside Interview: Fashion Bloggers
"Should we team up with the Villains?" Jen asked Tom. "They are a little cranky."
"Only Max is. Tammy is more tame than him," Tom said. "And they're one of the teams that aren't occupied with anyone or anything else."
"True. We'll form an alliance with them," Jen agreed, "and their outfits are really bold."
"The gray color definitely helps," Tom smiled.
Interview Ends
The Extreme Girls exited the airport and reached the Don Box. They were about to press it, but they got pushed away by Emma.
"This one's ours. You might as well give up now," Emma told them.
"What's your deal?!" Paris snapped at her. "All we were doing was getting a tip."
"And it wouldn't even affect your own placement," France added.
"Sorry about Emma. She can be rough sometimes," Kitty apologized and helped them up. "Let's go," she grabbed Emma's hand while glaring at her and went ahead.
France went to press the button and she retrieved the tip. "It's a Botch or Watch. Whoever didn't do gymnastics in Romania has to go diving for wedding rings," she read off. "It's your turn, Paris."
"In this challenge, botchers must dive into Hawaii's most popular wedding bay and retrieve one of the rings from the bottom," Don explained at the dock.
"Then swim to the beach at the tip of the bay to meet your partner," Kitty read the tip. "Come on!" she urged before she, Emma, and the Extreme Girls ran off.
The Ice Dancers ran out of the airport and Josee came to a halt. "Something doesn't feel right," she said to herself and gasped. "Oh no! Bun Bun? Where's Bun Bun?!"
Jacques came over to calm her down. "It's okay. We don't need a rabbit's foot. Like you said about my underpants, it's just a silly superstition."
"Okay, take off your lucky gitch then," Josee dared.
Jacques looked down at his gitch area, and after looking at the camera, he ran off.
"That's what I thought!" Josee shouted at him before following.
Spud plugged his nose and cannonballed in the water, Paris backflipped after him, and Jacques dived in with a spin mid-air.
The scene panned to the Sisters. "You can do it, Kit," Emma encouraged her sister.
"It looks pretty deep," Kitty commented.
"Pretend it's the pool at Nana's condo, only with less old people floating around. Ready? Go!" Emma pushed her sister in.
Kitty resurfaced and got furious at Emma. "You shoved me just like you did to the Extreme Girls! What the heck?!"
"It was a push of encouragement, and you're fine. Now go get a ring!" Emma ordered.
The camera panned left to the Best Friends, and Carrie gave Devin a quick hug.
"For luck," Carrie explained before she jumped.
"You're gonna rock this!" Devin called out.
Carrie smiled admirably as she dove towards the water, but hit a rock at the bay.
The Police Cadets and Party Dudes arrived at the dock, and MacArthur looked at Geoff. "Cannonball?"
"YES!" Geoff cheered and they both cannonballed into the water.
"MacArthur, you kick so much butt!" Brody congratulated her.
Sanders looked at him. "You know she's my partner, right?"
Brody focused on Geoff. "You did good too, bro!"
Down below, the botchers swam around looking for rings. Currently, Spud, Kitty, MacArthur, Geoff, Paris, Carrie, and Jacques were underwater. Jacques found a mini-squid, and it squirted him down with ink.
The watchers were on the dock waiting for someone to come up, and Jacques surfaced with a ring in hand. "I got one!"
"See you on the beach!" Josee shouted to her partner and ran past Mother & Daughter.
"Uh, sweetie, maybe this is the part where you should be in the water already," Kelly told her daughter, who was doing arm stretches.
"Chill, mamacita," Taylor stopped stretching. "How many swim medals do I have on my wall? Like a billion."
World Interview: Mother & Daughter
"Daddy had to reinforce the walls so I could hold them all up. And my swim coach told mom I was the best student he'd ever seen," Taylor bragged.
"Actually, sweetie…" Kelly tried to tell her.
"Evah!" Taylor emphasized.
Interview Ends
Taylor dove into the water, but ended up doing a belly flop. She sunk into the water, and Kelly gave an awkward smile to the camera. "I might have exaggerated what her swim coach said just a tad."
The Jocks arrived at the dock. "I'm better at swimming than you are, but just remember to follow my techniques and you'll be fine," Usain advised his partner.
"Lightning's eyesight is great, and he'll get that ring faster than you can say SHA-BAM!!" Lightning assured before he jumped into the bay.
The Tennis Rivals arrived. "Alright, Gerry, it's time to get into the water," Pete said.
"I already put lotion in my body in case something like this were to happen, Pete," Gerry grinned.
"I'm giving you thirty minutes until your skin gets wrinkly," Pete challenged.
Josee ran across the beach. "First place! Even without Bun-Bun! Maybe Jacques' right! I don't need a good luck charm anymore."
She suddenly stopped when she saw a black rock shaped like a trophy in the sand. "What?" She picked it up and looked at it. "It's so light. And warm! The energy! It's beautiful. Come on, Rock Rock! We've got a race to win!"
Josee began to run again, but was yanked back by a fishing line. "Wait! You can't take a lava rock as a souvenir," an elderly local man, the one with the fishing line, told her.
Josee took the line away from her jacket and glared at the man. "You have a whole volcano of them! Just chill out, grandpa!" she said and ran off.
"As the Ice Dancers extend their first place lead," Don narrated, "the rest of the teams are still searching for rings and coming up short," he said over Bark finding an eel attached to his arm, causing him to scream as Lightning swam past him.
Kitty and Jen swam to get a ring, and when they reached for it at the same time, they both got into a fight over it. "Some of them may even come up dead." As Jen and Kitty struggled, they noticed they were being circled around by a shark, and they held onto each other in panic. "Find out for sure when we return on the Ridonculous Race."
(Commercial Break)
The episode returned to Jen and Kitty, who were still holding onto each other fearfully and screaming. Just when it seemed the shark was going to attack them, it surprisingly moved over them and continued ahead.
The girls let go of each other, and when Jen took the opportunity to sigh, she saw Kitty mockingly waving at her and swam up with the ring, leaving Jen to groan and swim away.
"Ka-bling!" Kitty announced as she surfaced.
"Got one!" Carrie came after with a ring.
"Yes!" Emma cheered.
"Carrie, you're amazing!" Devin praised his partner.
Carrie squealed, but she got Kitty's attention by doing so.
"Did you just squeal?" Kitty asked.
"No! I think it was a… a dolphin?" Carrie denied and swam away.
Kitty gasped. "You're in love with him!"
World Interview: Sisters
"When love is in the air, I know it. I have a super sensitive love detector, and the alarm's been going off a lot lately," Kitty said.
Interview Ends
"But we've been friends for so long, and he has a girlfriend that'll kill me if I tell him I love him," Carrie talked to Kitty, "so please don't say anything. Please!"
"I promise I won't," Kitty promised, "but someone should be more aware of the people around him," she added and swam ahead of Carrie, who stopped to think.
"As more teams continue to find rings, our first place Ice Dancers say aloha to challenge number one and aloha to challenge number two," Don stated as Jacques got out of the bay to meet up with Josee at the Don Box.
"We're still in first place, and check it out," Josee held up the lava rock. "New good luck charm! It's a lava rock!"
"Nothing can stop us now!" Jacques cheered.
Josee took the tip. "It's an All-In. In this Hawaiian wedding ritual, teams must walk on-"
"Fire!" Don interrupted them, walking across a path of hot coals barefoot while holding a lei of maile leaves and a grass skirt.
"Technically coals. In this challenge, brides wear a grass skirt and grooms wear a wreath of maile lei as they carry their brides across this path of hot coals." Don started to feel the pain. "It's a test of strength. And honor! And if any part of them catches on fire," the skirt and leaves got caught on fire and he was hopping on the coals, "grass skirt included, it's back to the start!"
Don screamed and ran across the coals, coming to a stop in front of the Ice Dancers as the objects he was holding got burnt and disintegrated. "Once they reach the end untoasted, it's a race to the Chill Zone." Don held his burnt foot in his hands and scowled. "Great, now I gotta take foot modeling off my resume."
The scene cut to the botchers still underwater looking for rings.
Gerry lifted both a seashell conch and a rock up and couldn't find a ring.
Tammy stuck her hand into a hole hoping to find a ring. She pulled out an electric eel, and she got electrocuted for her mistake.
Val found two rings, and when she was sure nobody was looking, she scooped them up and headed to the surface.
Windsor, Tom, and Max were waiting for their partners to come up.
Tammy was the first to surface. "I couldn't find any rings!"
"Neither did I!" Jen added after surfacing.
Val surfaced, and held up two of her fingers to show two rings. "I've got two!"
"Yeah!" Windsor cheered as she ran away from the watchers while Val swam away from the botchers.
"We'll keep looking!" Tammy informed Max and Tom before she and Jen dived back in.
Tom and Max continued to wait until Tom cleared his throat. "While they're botching, can I talk to you?"
"You have my permission, tall and lanky boy," Max agreed.
"You see, me and Jen have been thinking that you and Tammy can team up with us," Tom started.
"And why would we join forces with two shallow beings like yourselves?" Max raised an eyebrow.
"Because you two are unique, and from watching Pahkitew Island, you can be smart and strategic," Tom offered.
"And that is why I say yes to the team up," Max grinned. "You know greatness when you see it!"
Outside Interview: Tom
"Max calls me and Jen shallow, and he's pretty egotistical himself," Tom rolled his eyes coolly, "but we've got an alliance."
Outside Interview: Max
"Those Fashion Bloggers have the courage to offer an alliance with Max Mayhem and his sidekick, Tammy!" Max announced boldly. "Maybe there's more to them than shopping?"
Interviews End
Kelly observed as Taylor popped out of the water with a ring. "Attagirl! Now swim to the beach as fast as you can, okay?" Kelly said.
"Don't sweat it, mom. I'm serving up this challenge with a side order of chipotle!" Taylor announced and prepared to swim… only to do doggy paddles in the water pathetically.
Kelly looked at the camera and chuckled nervously.
The scene flashed to Val swimming in the water in order to meet up with her partner, only to find Gerry swimming up to her.
"You found two rings?" Gerry said in astonishment. "How did that happen? I only found one."
"I just got lucky. Don't sweat it," Val gloated and swam off.
World Interview: Pranksters
"What are you going to do with that extra ring?" Windsor asked her partner.
"I'm going to sell it for cash," Val answered. "Think of the stuff I can buy with the money."
"Don't forget about the million dollars when we win," Windsor added.
Interview Ends
The Ice Dancers started the second challenge. Jacques was walking across the coals while he held Josee above him.
"That's it, Jacques. Moving ahead," Josee encouraged Jacques. "Just like the Olympics, this is one ginormous mind game."
"This challenge is pretty easy," Jacques said confidently.
"You're right. You're just walking. There are no coals," Josee added.
After she said that, Jacques stopped immediately, and his grass skirt caught fire.
"I forgot about the coals!" Jacques screamed. He dropped Josee at the side of the coal walk and ran for the water.
He passed by the Party Dudes, Geoff putting on a skirt and Brody a lei. Jacques jumped into the water, and he sighed in relief.
The Party Dudes got to the coals, Brody being the one carrying Geoff.
"Remember that time we were paddle-boarding off Tofino and we forgot our wetsuits? Ah, so cold, dude!" Geoff mentioned to Brody.
"Yeah. Yeah, keep it coming," Brody urged.
"And, and that day your tongue froze to the flagpole. Or when I dumped that cherry slush down your shorts. Oh, that was gnar-gnar, dude," Geoff continued.
They had reached the end of the coals safely. "We did it!" Brody cheered.
"First place, bro! Let's motor to the chill zone!" Geoff ran for the Carpet of Completion.
Brody followed him slowly. "Oh, man. I'd love to stick my feet in a tub full of ice cubes right now."
The Jocks, Best Friends, and Sisters have reached the second challenge. Lightning, Devin, and Kitty had leis on while their partners had skirts.
"Hey, Kit, could you help tie this?" Carrie turned around so Kitty could tie up her skirt. "You really think I should say something to Devin?"
"Life's short. He could feel the same way for you," Kitty advised her and walked off, leaving Carrie to think.
Usain had finished tying up his skirt when Lightning came over to him. "Are you ready for this, Lightning?" Usain asked.
"I've got my lei on, so yes," Lightning answered. "You'd be a pretty great groom."
"Groom?" Usain got stumped. "I'm not getting married to anyone."
"I know, Usain, but I do know that you'll be the best one in your possible wedding," Lightning winked playfully at him.
Outside Interview: Usain
"What was that all about with Lightning?" Usain asked. "I'm not focusing on love in the race, and I don't want to get married. Yet," he added.
Interview Ends
(Commercial Break)
The episode returned to both Jen and Tammy surfacing with rings on them.
"It took a while, but we both got rings!" Tammy called out.
"Finally," Max said. "We are now an alliance, so we must stick together!"
"As our last place teams finish finding rings," Don said over Tammy and Jen swimming to meet with their partners, "all the other teams work on the second challenge. Well, nearly all." Don added as Taylor was still swimming slowly.
"She's a titch faster with a flutterboard," Kelly explained in a close-up.
"I can't wear the skirt!" Junior reasoned as Dwaybe held the skirt. "Every kid at school's gonna see this!"
"Yeah, but if I wear it, pal, you're gonna have to carry me over hot coals. I'm sure the kids at school won't make a big deal out of it," Dwayne responded.
"My classmate, Larry Finkle, spent all last year getting shoved into the girl's change room because his name rhymes with tinkle!" Junior explained before putting the maile lei on him and marching forward. "Let's do this!
Dwayne laughed at the name. "Tinkle."
Meanwhile, the Bulldogs were looking at the skirt below them.
"Thumb war for who gets to not wear the skirt?" Bark asked.
"I'd dominate that. You're wearing it," Bite shot back.
"Hey, I'm not a sissy," Bark scoffed.
"Just use one of your spray cans to color the skirt black," Bite said.
The Best Friends were at the start of the coal walk.
"We are so gonna win this and- oh!" Carrie yelped as Devin lifted her into his arms. "Wow! Heh, yep, us, so winning."
"Time to walk the walk!" Devin stepped forward.
At the Chill Zone, Don was sipping from a coconut cup, and he heard the Party Dudes cheering and running onto the Carpet of Completion.
"Geoff, Brody, congratulations. You're today's winners!" Don declared.
“Awesome!” Geoff cheered.
“Yes!” Brody cheered as well and they shared a hug.
“I love you man.”
“I'd marry you all over again.”
"I love weddings," Don said.
The Ice Dancers returned to the coals, but Josee was the one carrying Jacques. Josee rushed forward and passed the Best Friends… and rushed back since Jacques' skirt was on fire. Josee threw her partner in the bay, and Jacques sighed in relief.
Rock stood with a grass skirt on top of his head like a wig. Spud, who was wearing a lei, gave him a thumbs-up.
Mother & Daughter made it to the Don Box and Taylor got the tip. "No way am I walking on hot coals."
World Interview: Mother & Daughter
"Do you have any idea how much my gel pedi cost?" Taylor spoke rhetorically.
Kelly grew annoyed. "Uh, yes. Because I paid for it!"
"Just listen to the leader," Taylor said with an arm raised.
Kelly scoffed and held her arm. "And why do you think you're the leader?"
Taylor yanked her arm away. "I'm the one with Leader in Training certification. You're welcome," she smirked.
Interview Ends
The Best Friends cheered as they got off the coals, and Devin put Carrie back down.
"Hey, Best Friends," Josee called from behind them, showing Jacques carrying Josee, "move it or lose it!"
"Run!" Carrie exclaimed, and they ran towards the Chill Zone.
The Ice Dancers ran after the Best Friends, and Josee held her good luck charm. "Believe in the lava rock, and we'll own the podium!"
The Ice Dancers soon overtook the Best Friends, but Jacques tripped on a small rock, sending them to the ground. The Best Friends ran past them and reached the carpet.
"Carrie, Devin, congrats! You're in second place!" Don told the team. The Ice Dancers, upset, showed up on the carpet. "Jacques, Josee. You've come in... third!"
World Interview: Ice Dancers
"No! Not again! Bronze. It's the worst medal. The road to shame is paved with bronze!" Josee cried out as Jacques sobbed into his hands.
Outside Interview: Goths
Crimson scribbled on a grass skirt with a black magic marker.
"She only wears black," Ennui explained. "Even if it's grass, it must be black grass."
Interviews End
MacArthur carried Sanders over her shoulder with no issue and the scene panned to the team behind them.
"Doing great!" France told Paris, the latter carrying her. "Do not think about the pain."
"Easy peasy," Paris smirked.
Behind them, Junior had no issue holding Dwayne, and Pete yawned as he walked through the coals with Gerry on his shoulder.
World Interview: Tennis Rivals
"I took the liberty of carrying my partner," Pete said.
"We both had to pull our weight around to ensure that we don't lose our future sponsorships," Gerry said.
Interview Ends
Lightning ran towards the Chill Zone with Usain over his shoulder. Kitty ran behind him carrying Emma, and they reached the carpet.
"Fourth and fifth place!" Don told the Jocks and Sisters respectively.
"Sixth!" Extreme Girls. "Seventh!" The Pranksters, Val being the one to carry Windsor, arrived. "Eighth!" Father & Son.
Mother & Daughter were finally at the second challenge. Kelly was carrying Taylor across the coals, and Taylor's skirt caught fire.
"Fire!" Taylor screamed, and Kelly immediately ran back. Kelly put Taylor down and rapidly threw sand onto the flame. "Mom, my extensions!"
The Police Cadets were at the Carpet. "I'd worry more about the burns than the hair. But, uh, I'm funny like that," MacArthur said.
"Ninth!" Don announced.
The Tennis Rivals made it to the Chill Zone safely. "Tenth!"
"Eleventh!" Bulldogs. "Twelfth!" Goths. "Thirteenth!" Rockers.
Mother & Daughter came to the Carpet next. "Fourteenth place!"
Kelly set Taylor down. "Well, honey, it wasn't pretty, but-"
"You need to step your game up, mother! For serious!" Taylor shot back.
"We're a team Taylor," Kelly tried to reason.
"I know you aren't used to winning, like me," Taylor ranted, and Kelly grew frustrated. "But maybe you need to follow my example more, because-"
"You've never won anything in your life, Taylor! Never!" Kelly snapped. "Not one race, not one medal! Nothing!"
"Wait, what?" Taylor responded. "My room is full of trophies and medals."
"Because your dad bought a trophy store!" Kelly explained. "What kind of trophies come in the mail? And guess who paid your coaches to lie?" she continued. "Yep, daddy."
Taylor grew desperate. "Beauty pageants. I won beauty pageants! You can't fake those!"
"Oh, honey. When you have enough cash, you can fake anything!" Kelly dropped a bombshell on a shocked Taylor.
Don stepped in. "The coals were hot, but that was cold."
As the sun was setting down, the scene focused on the Villains and Fashion Bloggers on the hot coals, Tammy carrying Max and Tom carrying Jen.
"We're clearly the last two teams standing, so that means our alliance will come to an end since one of us is leaving," Tammy told the Fashion Bloggers.
"Let's just hope it's a non-elimination round," Jen said.
The shot flashed to Devin sitting on a large boulder and relaxing. "Hawaii is such a nice place to visit."
He was oblivious to Kitty walking over to him until she sat down and tapped his shoulder, causing him to look back. "Kitty? Oh, hi," Devin greeted her.
"Hey Devin," Kitty smiled at him. "Can I talk to you for a second?"
"Go on ahead," Devin nodded.
"So you're in a relationship with Shelley, right?" Kitty got to the point.
"Of course. We've been going out for at least three years," Devin explained. "We would've been here together, but she suddenly told me she was busy for some reason. I don't know what came up."
"Has she ever opened up to you?" Kitty wondered.
"She has, but only to tell me if I made a mistake or suddenly announce when we have a date, even if we haven't planned it," Devin answered.
Kitty was surprised by this. "So she's never taken your feelings into account and she drags you to places? That's not a healthy relationship!"
"I've known her longer than you have, and I know she cares for me. She just expresses tough love," Devin ignored her obliviously and stood up. "Well, I'm gonna crash. Good night."
As Devin walked away whistling, Kitty facepalmed to herself. "He's cute, but he is extremely oblivious."
Soon, the last two teams got on the Carpet of Completion, the Villains arriving before the Fashion Bloggers.
"Villains, you're fifteenth! Fashion Bloggers, you're sixteenth, which means last place," Don addressed them.
"Sorry it has to be like this," Tammy comforted the last place team.
"But luckily, it's a non-elimination round!" Don finished. "No one's leaving today!"
"Yes!" Tom cheered.
"That means we can still have our alliance!" Jen squealed as she, Tom, and Tammy got off the Chill Zone.
"I didn't see the non-elimination coming," Max said begrudgingly, "but a good day's a good day," he shrugged and followed his alliance.
Don focused on the camera. "Come back next time for more shocking action here on the Ridonculous Race!"
(Roll the Credits)
Stepbrothers - Chet & Lorenzo - 21st
Geniuses - Ellody & Mary - 20th
Vegans - Laurie & Miles - 19th
Adversity Twins - Jay & Mickey - 18th
Daters - Ryan & Stephanie - 17th
Current Rankings: Party Dudes, Best Friends, Ice Dancers, Jocks, Sisters, Extreme Girls, Pranksters, Father & Son, Police Cadets, Tennis Rivals, Bulldogs, Goths, Rockers, Mother & Daughter, Villains, Fashion Bloggers

Episode 1: None Down, Twenty-One to Go - Part One
The episode began with the show's title card, a circle composed of various European flags on a blue background; the words 'TOTAL DRAMA' on the top row, 'PRESENTS:' under that, 'THE' on the next row, 'RIDONCULOUS' on a black bar in the middle of the circle, and 'RACE' underneath the bar.
The scene then cuts to a shot of Toronto. "This is Toronto. The capital of North America. Birthplace of funk, where the albino panther roams free," a middle aged man narrated before a panther standing on a moving yacht roared.
The man makes himself present on-screen. He had brown hair and was wearing a gray suit. "Beneath my manly size 13 brogues, twenty-one teams are arriving at this historic train station ready to embark on a race around the world," the man said as a shot of the Earth was depicted with a beam of light going around it.
The scene cuts back to the host. "I'm your host, Don, and this is, the Ridonculous Race!" Don announced before he flashed his teeth at the camera.
(Theme Song)
Don was walking down the streets of Toronto. "Welcome to the Ridonculous Race. Right now, twenty-one teams from across the country are readying themselves to embark on a race to the death."
He then winced thanks to his earpiece, and he listened to what it had to say. "Not to the death? Okay." He focused on the camera. "Let's meet the teams that aren't racing to the death."
The scene flashed to two people in their late teens. Devin, the boy on the left, was of Asian descent, his jet black hair in a spiky updo, and he wore a light green shirt with light blue trimmings and a picture of a standard power button over a long sleeve cream shirt. As he was reading a book, he didn't notice Carrie, the girl on the right, gazing at him with a blush on her cheeks. She was a white girl with wavy blonde hair and wearing a blue-ish green sweater and blue jeans.
"Carrie and Devin," Don introduced. "Best Friends."
World Interview: Best Friends
"I met Devin in the sandbox and we haven't spent a day apart since," Carrie explained as the shot cut to this show's confessional, the team sitting together in front of a map of the world.
"If anyone can win this race," Carrie continued, "it's us!"
"Yeah," Devin chimed in with a smile. "I know Carrie so well," he chuckled and she leaned over to gaze at him again. "It's like we're..." he noticed her gazing again and trailed off. "Wh-wha-what-what're you doing?" he asked.
Her eyes widened in fear. "Oh, uh, lint check!" she said suddenly, ripping off a piece of lint from his shirt. "For the camera," she laughed awkwardly.
Interview Ends
The next team was shown. The person on the left was a middle aged blonde woman wearing a white tracksuit and the one on the right being another girl in her late teens, with light brown hair and wearing a cream dress and black knee-high boots.
"Kelly and Taylor," Don introduced as the older woman applied lipstick and the younger one filed her nails. "Mother & Daughter."
World Interview: Mother & Daughter
"So 'A'," Taylor said, waving her nail file around while her mother continued to apply lipstick, "I'm really hot. Obviously. And 'B', I'm pretty much the best at everything I do. So unless my mom messes things up, we're totally gonna win this race," she said while going back to filing.
"Taylor and her friends love when I hang with them," Kelly said after putting away her cosmetics. "I'm known as the 'cool mom'," she laughed. "We're so tight, people always mistake us for sisters!"
Taylor was startled out of her nail filing. "Wait? What?"
Interview Ends
"Kitty and Emma," Don introduced over a shot of an Asian Girl in her late teens posing for her cellphone camera. She wore a red sweater over a white long-sleeve button-up and a knee-length black skirt. Her hair was done in twin ponytails each held up by red bows.
"Actual sisters," the host continued as the camera panned up to show an Asian woman in her early twenties with straight hair that falls to her waist and wearing a red jacket over a pink short sleeve shirt and grey capri pants. She scowled at her sister as she put up their things in their train compartment's overhead bin, then took her phone.
World Interview: Sisters
"I'm studying International Law," Emma said, "so that's gonna give us a real edge. Which is good, because we're here to win."
"And to see the world," Kitty said. "Meet hot guys, and have some fun."
"If there's time for that," Emma chimed in, "which there won't be. So let's focus on winning, okay?"
"Okay," Kitty sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Good," Emma smiled.
Interview Ends
"Crimson and Ennui," Don said as the camera panned up from the heavy boots of the next team, to the blood red pants of the boy on the left and blood red skirt of the girl on the right, to the blood red and black shirt with a logo of a crying circle of the boy and the blood red blouse and fishnet gloves of the girl, to their pale skin and his gold eyes and her red eyes, to the black and red hair of the boy and white and black hair of the girl.
"Two exceptionally pale teens," Don finished as lightning flashed behind them.
World Interview: Goths
The flash of lightning took the scene to the Goths both staring at the camera and not saying a word.
"Okay, that's just unnerving," Don commented.
Interview Ends
The next team featured two girls in their early twenties. The one on the right was a Latina girl with her blue hair tied into a ponytail and a bandage on her left cheek. The one on the left was a Brazilian girl with her green hair in pigtails. They both wore jumpsuits and helmets, the difference being that the Brazilian girl's jumpsuit was colored green with a green stripe on her helmet, and the Latina girl's jumpsuit was colored blue with a blue stripe on her helmet.
"France and Paris," Don introduced as the girls were writing in their notebooks. "Extreme Girls."
World Interview: Extreme Girls
"You may know us from our streaming channel called "Extreme Girls!"," Paris, the Latina girl, said.
"We're a daredevil duo. We do wicked stunts like roller skating on ice rinks, biking down steep hills, and doing parkour just so we can get to our favorite burger place," France, the Brazilian girl, explained and showed off her gap-toothed smile.
"Some of our antics do get us injured or put into hospitals," Paris added seriously, "but we manage to recover in a few days or so."
"And plus, we post our own wipeouts online just to show our fans that we're not perfect," France smiled. "And to get some extra cash."
Interview Ends
The sixth team was a team of identical white boys with curly brown hair. The one on the left wore a light blue hoodie and a helmet. The one on the right was without a helmet and wore a blue hoodie.
"Mickey and Jay," Don introduced. "Identical twins who are used to overcoming adversity."
The boy on the left adjusted his helmet and the one on the right took a puff of an asthma inhaler, and both were crushed when their overhead bin dumped its contents on them.
World Interview: Adversity Twins
"We've both been through a lot," Mickey said, "but we're not cursed. Whatever's right before cursed. That's us."
"Like when I was six, I fell into a burrowing owl's nest and one of the baby owls flew into my ear," Jay explained, pointing to his left ear for emphasis. "To this day, everything on this side sounds like…" He made owl sounds.
"We're constantly fighting adversity," Mickey said confidently. "And overcoming it."
"Sorry," Jay said. "We gotta switch sides. You're just…" The owl noises returned.
Interview Ends
The scene cut to the next team; another pair of people in their late teens. The one on the left was an Irish Canadian woman with short red hair wearing a black tank top with a white shirt underneath and brown pants with rips on it. The one on the right was a British Canadian man with gray spiky hair wearing a purple button-up shirt and blue ripped jeans.
"Bite and Bark," Don introduced as the girl punched the overhead bin and a bag of chips fell into her hand. "The dubly named tough bulldogs."
World Interview: Bulldogs
"'Ello there, mates," Bark, the male partner, started. "We're the Bulldogs, and we do not play nice. We play dirty!"
"We're both rough housers, and these wee babies we're up against have no chance against us," Bite, the female partner, chuckled.
"I've got the mouth to mock people and she's got the muscle to beat them up, hence our names, Bite and Bark," Bark grinned.
"Mind you, those aren't our real names, but it's not like we'd waste time telling you guys," Bite told the viewers.
"Yeah! Time wasting is for losers," Bark huffed.
Interview Ends
"The totally in love Daters," Don explained as the scene cut to the next team staring out the train window. The one on the left was a large and muscular college-aged man in a pink short-sleeve shirt featuring the logo of a man deadlifting a weight over his head and the much shorter girl on the left who'd shaved one side of her head and wore a fuchsia T-shirt and purple workout shorts.
"Stephanie and Ryan," Don introduced.
World Interview: Daters
"Stephanie and I met at the gym a year and a half ago," Ryan told the confessional, "and we've been going steady ever since!"
"We're so excited!" Stephanie said. "Neither of us has ever traveled before. There's so much to discover. Like, 'What do chocolate protein bars taste like in China'?"
"I was just wondering that!" Ryan said in awe.
"No. Way." Stephanie said in awe herself before they promptly began to make out.
Interview Ends
The footage skipped ahead to the train arriving at the station's fourth platform, where the next team stepped off. Or rather, they leapt off the train. A blonde Quebec man and a black haired woman, both appearing to be in their mid thirties. He wore a purple insulated jumpsuit and she wore a short dress in identical colors.
"Josee and Jacques," Don introduced as they smiled and waved for the camera. "Ice Dancers."
World Interview: Ice Dancers
"We know how to win!" Jacques said confidently. "We've won gold everywhere!"
"Except," Josee said, "the Olympics. He dropped me so we only got silver," she explained.
Jacques cried, standing up and covering his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it!" He ran out of the room.
"Jacques!" Josee cried out after him, then looked at the camera and smiled. "Silver is his least favorite color."
Interview Ends
The tenth team to step off were a pair of females, a Hispanic girl in her early teens and a white girl in her late teens. The younger girl has brown hair that was tied back into a short braided ponytail. She wore a yellow jacket with a picture of two black stars in the chest area and blue pants. The older girl has long blonde hair, a red long-sleeved shirt with a drawing of a blueberry pie in the front, and red pants.
"Windsor and Val," Don introduced as the girls high-fived, and since the young girl had a joy buzzer on her hand, she electrocuted her partner for a bit, much to her own amusement and the annoyance of the white girl. "Pranksters."
World Interview: Pranksters
"We're the ultimate pranksters," the younger girl, Windsor, said. "Me for my middle school and Val for her high school."
"Life can be boring sometimes, so why not spice things up with a thumbtack on a chair or a pie to the face just for laughs?" Val said.
"When I heard about this race, I wanted to join, but I had to be with someone eligible to be my guardian since I'm thirteen," Windsor explained.
"Being Windsor's next door neighbor and sharing her taste of comedy, that's where sixteen-year-old me comes in," Val gloated smugly.
Windsor rolled her eyes. "You don't have to lord your age over me every chance you get."
Interview Ends
The scene cut to the next team, only one of which was familiar. It was a thin and somewhat muscular white boy with blonde hair and a cowboy hat, wearing an unbuttoned pink shirt and blue jean shorts. To his right; a Hispanic teen about the same age with short brown hair and a tattoo around his arm. He wore a pink tank top and purple jean shorts.
"Geoff and Brody," Don introduced. "Life long friends and Party Dudes."
Interview: Party Dudes
"I met some awesome people on Total Drama," Geoff explained. "But they're too busy to compete this time. So boom! Entrez, my bud Brody."
Brody chuckled. "Yeah guy," the two bumped fists. "Bros forever! GnB for the W I N!" They bumped their other fists.
Interview Ends
The scene moved to the front door of the train station opening to show the eleven previously introduced teams in the doorway.
"Right this way, teams!" Don called out to them, the camera panning to the right to show him standing behind a chalk line. "Over here!"
A quick pan to the left showed the next team walking over to the host. A dirty blonde middle aged white man in a plain yellow shirt and blue slacks, and a blonde preteen white boy wearing a red backwards baseball cap, black hoodie, and gray jeans.
"Also competing, Dwayne and Dwayne Jr," Don introduced. "Father & Son."
World Interview: Father & Son
"Oh, I spend a lot of time in the old office there," Dwayne said, "so this race is a, uh, perfect chance for Junior and I," he pinched his son's cheek, "to squeeze in a little father son bonding time." He chuckled. "Right, buddo?"
"Uh, yeah, sure dad," Junior said uncertainly. "Hey, um, are there any other kids my age in this thing?" he asked while darting his eyes around.
"Oh!" Dwayne said suddenly. "Uh..."
Interview Ends
The next team was shown, a black woman with short brown hair, rappelling down a brick building with a rope and a larger white woman with brown hair in a ponytail bursting out of a nearby window. Both were wearing the dark blue uniforms of law enforcement academy students, with the white woman wearing a cap.
"Sanders and MacArthur," Don introduced as the two women ran off to the right. "Ambitious Police Cadets."
World Interview: Police Cadets
"We're tough as nails," MacArthur said, "and we'll go to the extreme to win this thing."
"Definitely," Sanders said with a confident grin. "As long as we don't break any international laws."
"I'm okay with breaking a few," MacArthur said, much to her partner's shock.
Interview Ends
The fourteenth team had arrived. Two boys, both sixteen years old, marched on screen while scowling at each other. The one on the left was a large white boy with brown hair and the barest hints of a goatee, wearing a purple shirt with the logo of a skull bat and dark purple cargo shorts. The one on the right was a skinny Italian boy with black hair and a small patch of facial hair, wearing a purple shirt with a game controller logo on it and blue jeans.
"Chet and Lorenzo," Don introduced. "New stepbrothers."
World Interview: Stepbrothers
"My dad married his mom last year," Lorenzo explained, "but we always hated each other before that."
"He hates gymnastics, and I don't like his karate," Chet huffed.
"So they're making us do this. Jerks," Lorenzo stared hatefully at the camera.
"Don't call my mom a jerk!" Chet yelled at him. "Jerk!" He shoved Lorenzo out of frame.
"Shut your wordhole!" Lorenzo got up and yelled back. "Jerk!" He shoved Chet out of frame.
Chet got up and tackled Lorenzo.
Interview Ends
"Also racing," Don said as the next team strutted on screen. A tall and skinny white man with stylish light brown hair wearing a long sleeve light blue shirt, a team of glasses, and skinny jeans and a shorter tanned young woman with black hair tied into a ponytail and wearing a light blue blouse and short dark blue skirt with a team of sunglasses on her head.
"Tom and Jen," Don introduced as the two shared a confident glance. "Highly attractive fashion bloggers with impeccable taste."
Don added in annoyance "I told you not to let the teams write their own cards."
World Interview: Fashion Bloggers
"Hey hey to all our blog followers out there!" Jen greeted. "Wish us luck!"
"I bet Jen we could win the race," Tom said with a smile, "but I didn't think she'd actually take me up on it."
"I put my mind to something and it happens," Jen explained confidently with a snap of her fingers.
Interview Ends
The next team arrived. The one on the right was taller and thinner, with long blonde hair. He wore a purple short sleeve shirt with the logo of a frog's head with horns over a long sleeve pale blue undershirt with green jeans, a team of large brown cowboy boots, and an orange bandana tied around his head. The one on the left was shorter and larger, with long curly brown hair wearing a pale blue jean vest over a similar purple shirt to his partner and blue jeans.
"Rock and Spud," Don introduced as the blonde one played an air guitar and the other one banged his head and made devil horns. "The Rockers."
World Interview: Rockers
"Spud wasn't sure about doing this," Rock explained, "'cause he's not super fit or good at much of anything," Spud nodded in agreement, "except rocking out!"
He played a brief mouth and air guitar. "So I said, 'You just rock bud. I'll carry you!'"
Spud banged his head and made devil horns as Rock continued his air and mouth guitar playing.
Interview Ends
"Laurie and Miles," Don introduced over a shot of a Monarch butterfly landing on a white hand. "Granola loving hippie dippie friends," Don finished as the camera pulled out to show two young women standing in the middle of the road.
The one on the left was white with freckles and waist length brown hair wearing a long sleeve pale yellow shirt that was a tad bit too big for her, a brown fringe jacket, pale blue bell bottom jeans, glasses, peace sign earrings, and a red bandanna tied around her head. The one on the right was biracial with freckles and brown dreadlocks. She wore a pale yellow crop top with a brown fringe jacket, a knit cap, and high waist blue jeans. The biracial girl held her arm out to stop traffic as the white girl gently let the butterfly free.
World Interview: Vegans
"We want to win so we can donate to our favorite charities," Laurie explained. "Save the Hunchback Walrus," Laurie continued as Miles nodded eagerly, "Goatmilk Eco Warriors, People for the Ethical Treatment of Ants. So many great causes!"
Interview Ends
The next team was shown walking. They were both late teens. The one on the left was a familiar face. He was a muscular African Canadian boy with brown hair, a necklace with a lightning bolt attached, and pierced ears. He was wearing a blue jersey with the number '1' on the front and gray shorts. The one on the right was another African Canadian boy with black hair. He wore a gray t-shirt with black vertical stripes on it and black shorts.
"Lightning and Usain," Don introduced. "All-around jocks."
World Interview: Jocks
"Lightning's been on Pahkitew Island," Lightning said. "However, not only did he not win the money, but he got eliminated first! That’s just sha-lame!"
"But now that he's got Usain, that's me, his best friend, with him, we're gonna be unbeatable and unstoppable!" Usain boasted.
"Those teams are gonna get struck by lightning!” Lightning grinned.
Interview Ends
The scene cut to a bus speeding away and revealing the next team. The one on the left was a young Indian woman with wavy brown hair, shorter than her partner and dressed smartly in a brown sweater over a white button-up and knee-length skirt and glasses. Her partner was a white woman with a very pronounced nose, slightly unkempt light brown hair, and wearing a pair of glasses, a gradient sweater that started off as brown at the top and ended as white on the bottom and gray stretch pants.
"Ellody and Mary," Don introduced. "Scientific geniuses who say they will use their winnings to support the scientific community."
World Interview: Geniuses
"Astrophysics has been shown to be underfunded," Ellody informed. "After doing some research, we found that reality shows offer monetary prizes. Conundrum solved."
Interview Ends
A taxi brought the penultimate team to the starting line. The first one to get out of the car was a familiar face. He was a pale boy in his late teens and had a rather big head with multiple chins and purple hair. He wore a gray jumpsuit. His partner got out shortly after. A normal skinned girl in her late teens with white pigtailed hair that fell to her shoulders. She wore an identical outfit to the boy.
"Max and Tammy," Don introduced as they drank a bottle of soda. "Dedicated villains. Whatever that is."
World Interview: Villains
"I did not fare well in Pahkitew Island, and my gadgets I made that season have been confiscated by my parents so that I would not cheat," Max began. "But with my sidekick, Tammy, by my side, I can redeem myself!"
Tammy took out her ocarina and played a villainous tune.
Interview Ends
The final team was shown. Both were men in their sixties. The one on the left had graying hair. He wore a yellow and orange trimmed polo shirt and white tennis shorts. His partner's hair was a much lighter shade of gray, and he wore a blue striped polo shirt with blue tennis shorts.
"And Gerry and Pete," Don introduced. "Retired pro tennis players and friendly rivals."
World Interview: Tennis Rivals
"We're both very competitive," Gerry said, "but for half a mil each? Game on!" They chuckled.
"Maybe we'll get some new sponsorships," Pete said. "Anyone need a pitch man for seniors' laxatives-"
"Call his agent," they both said before chuckling some more.
Interview Ends
The twenty-one teams were all gathered around Don at the finish line. On the left; the Rockers, Stepbrothers, Police Cadets, Fashion Bloggers, Pranksters, Adversity Twins, Daters, Jocks, Best Friends, Mother & Daughter, and Goths. On the right; the Sisters, Tennis Rivals, Ice Dancers, Vegans, Party Dudes, Geniuses, Bulldogs, Father & Son, Extreme Girls, and Villains with Don in between both groups.
"Welcome contestants!" Don greeted. "This is the starting line for your twenty-six part race around the world. Each part ends at a chill zone." The scene cut to a desert and focused on its chill zone. "Get there fast, because the last team to stand on the carpet of completion may be cut from the competition."
The teams all got worried by this news.
"But the first team to reach our last chill zone will win one. Million. Dollars," Don said over a shot of cash being presented inside the planet in space after it got opened.
The teams proceeded to cheer about the prize until they got cut off with "Look over here!" from Don, causing them to see Don next to a box that looked like him.
"This is our Ridonculous Tip Box, also known as the Don Box," Don described the box. "Press this button to get the travel tips that will lead you through the Ridonculous Race," he said as the scene cut to several dots being placed in multiple countries.
"Ready teams?" the host asked, and the teams began to get into running positions. "On your marks! Get set!"
The Police Cadets were shown waiting for the signal in the top left quarter of the screen, then the Ice Dancers in the top right, the Stepbrothers in the bottom left, and the Goths in the bottom right.
"Race!" Don announced. "Watch the face!" he cried as he was engulfed by the swarm of teams. "Not the hair!" he cried again as he was knocked down.
The Party Dudes, Father & Son, and Stepbrothers reached the first Don Box and pressed the button, a tip coming out from the mouth of the Don Box.
"Race on foot to the CN Tower!" Chet read before he, Lorenzo, and the Party Dudes left.
"And find the Don Box to find your next tip!" Dwayne finished and he and Junior ran off as the Fashion Bloggers and Ice Dancers arrived on the scene, Tom pressing the button for a tip.
The Party Dudes were in the lead, until Father & Son lapped them. "There's the tower!" Junior pointed towards it.
"And here comes the competition!" Jacques followed up after running past the Party Dudes.
Dwayne turns around. "Huh, where?" he wondered until he hit a garbage can and fumbled over it. The trash can then covers the Ice Dancers, stopping them from running. "Oh, my bad!"
"Whoa! Nasty! Are you guys okay?" Geoff asked the Ice Dancers after he and Brody stopped. The Ice Dancers lift the trash can off of them and keep on running. The trash can lands on the Party Dudes, but with Geoff yelling "Go!”, they ran forward, the Police Cadets, Bulldogs, Stepbrothers, Pranksters, and Fashion Bloggers following suit.
Father & Son reached the CN Tower where the Don Box is located outside the tower.
"There's the Don Box!" Dwayne spotted and pressed the button.
Junior reads the tip. "It's an "either or"," he said as the Ice Dancers leapt on the opposite side and pressed the button. "What's an "either or"?"
The two teams were interrupted by Geoff and Brody crashing into a rail and falling down.
"An "either or" gives teams the choice of two challenges," Don said as the shot cut to a staircase. "They either climb one hundred and forty-four flights of stairs to reach the world's tallest observation deck. That's just under a billion stairs."
The scene flashed to Don next to the elevator. "Or scares. Take the elevator, then get the scare of a lifetime by doing a sky walk all the way around the outside of the tower." He was now standing outside, and it was really windy. "Not to worry though. They'll be wearing helmets. And as an extra precaution, we had a safety rail installed." The rail falls halfway.
Don was now back inside. "teams must finish either task and find this local guide to receive their next tip," he gestured at the pale skinny white teen currently relaxing.
A couple of the teams have reached the Don Box and are all currently reading the tip.
"A hundred and forty-four flights of stairs?" Sanders asked as she and MacArthur glanced at their tip. Chet and Lorenzo were too busy fighting each other to read theirs, and Bark, Tom, and Windsor were looking at theirs and paying attention. The Police Cadets ran off, and the Adversity Twins were the next to arrive. "Yeah, we'll do Scares."
"Scares," Tom said.
"We're going with Scares," Windsor told her partner.
"Definitely not stairs," Bark concluded.
"Scares!" Chet announced, letting go of the tip and letting Lorenzo fall to the ground. "Called it!"
"Stairs," Mickey said weakly.
World Interview: Adversity Twins
Both twins were holding the papercut. "Mickey gets nosebleeds when he goes up too high too fast. Makes it pretty hard to take flights or, you know, go up really tall towers," Jay explained and took the tip away.
Mickey yelped in pain. "Paper cut!"
Interview Ends
Father & Son arrived at the elevator first.
"First in! Alright! Way to go, Junior! Give me a high five!" Dwayne went to slap five, but Junior ducked, leaving Dwayne to slam against the elevator buttons. This caused every button floor to be mashed.
"Whoops," Dwayne chuckled sheepishly as his son glared at him.
World Interview: Father & Son
"For a skinny tower, there sure are a lot of floors," Dwayne commented.
Interview Ends
Dwayne whistled as he and his son exited the elevator, and the camera cut to show the Fashion Bloggers, Bulldogs, Police Cadets, Party Dudes, Stepbrothers, Ice Dancers, and Pranksters running inside before it closed.
"Hey!" Chet said after seeing the problem. "Who pushed all of the buttons?"
"Guess we have to take the stairs," Bite declared, and everyone but the Pranksters and Fashion Bloggers ran out.
"I would rather just wait," Val shrugged.
"We are not taking the easy way out," Windsor grabbed her partner's arm and left the elevator.
"Meh," Tom shrugged as Jen looked at him. "This'll probably still be faster."
"Anyone asks, we chose stairs. Always stairs," Dwayne told Junior as they ran up the stairwell, the Adversity Twins following behind them.
"While Father and Son and the Adversity Twins commit to climbing the unconscionable number of stairs, more teams choose scares," Don narrated as the scene cut to the twelve other teams standing outside the elevator. "But they're in for a long wait."
Outside Interview: Fashion Bloggers
The camera cut to the Fashion Bloggers inside the elevator.
"Hey hey, fashion blog followers!" Jen greeted. "We would like to talk about today's fashion faux-pas, which is..."
The doors behind them opened to show an elderly man in overalls mopping the floor.
"Overalls," Tom said in a disgusted tone. "Ugh. Nasty." The man raised an offended eyebrow.
"I know, right," Jen said, both unaware of their surroundings. "Like, get with today."
Interview Ends
The elevator reaches the observation deck, Tom and Jen exiting with a mop and bucket on their heads. They removed them and looked around in confusion.
"I don't see any other teams," Jen said before realizing. "We're in first place!" she squealed, annoying the guide.
"Let's hit the skywalk and strut all the way to the winner's circle," Tom suggested, strutting to the skywalk with a grin.
"We are so the team to beat," Jen bragged.
They soon stared out at the skywalk. "We have to walk out here?!" Jen asked in panic.
"Oh yes you do," Don voiced over. "The Ridonculous Race will return."
(Commercial Break)

As the biggest fan of Kanye West, here's an objective rating of his albums, considering factors such as innovation, cultural impact, lyrical content, and overall production quality:

1. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (2010)
   
   • Rating: 10/10
   • Why: This album is widely regarded as Kanye's magnum opus. The production is lush and detailed, with intricate layers and groundbreaking collaborations. It combines elements of hip-hop, pop, and art rock, creating a sonically rich and cohesive project. Lyrically, it explores themes of fame, excess, and personal struggle with unparalleled depth.
2. The College Dropout (2004)
   
   • Rating: 9.5/10
   • Why: Kanye's debut album changed the landscape of hip-hop. It brought introspective and socially conscious lyrics to the forefront, diverging from the dominant themes of gangsta rap. The production is soulful and innovative, incorporating sped-up soul samples that became his signature sound.
3. Late Registration (2005)
   
   • Rating: 9.5/10
   • Why: This sophomore album builds on the foundation of "The College Dropout" with even more polished production and ambitious orchestration, thanks to Jon Brion's collaboration. It delves into personal and social issues, maintaining the balance between mainstream appeal and critical acclaim.
4. Graduation (2007)
   
   • Rating: 9/10
   • Why: "Graduation" marked Kanye's transition to a more stadium-ready, electronic sound. It features anthemic tracks that blend hip-hop with electronic and rock influences. The album's impact was significant, influencing the sound of mainstream hip-hop and pop music.
5. Yeezus (2013)
   
   • Rating: 8.5/10
   • Why: This album is one of Kanye's most experimental works. Its abrasive, minimalist production and industrial influences set it apart from anything else in hip-hop at the time. "Yeezus" is polarizing but undeniably bold and innovative.
6. 808s & Heartbreak (2008)
   
   • Rating: 8.5/10
   • Why: A departure from Kanye's previous work, this album uses Auto-Tune and electronic production to explore themes of loss and alienation. It had a profound influence on contemporary hip-hop and pop, paving the way for artists who blend emotional vulnerability with digital soundscapes.
7. The Life of Pablo (2016)
   
   • Rating: 8/10
   • Why: "The Life of Pablo" is eclectic and sprawling, reflecting Kanye's turbulent personal life at the time. Its constantly evolving tracklist and raw, unfinished feel add to its unique charm. The album contains some of Kanye's most introspective and experimental work.
8. Ye (2018)
   
   • Rating: 7.5/10
   • Why: At only 23 minutes, "Ye" is brief but impactful. It tackles mental health and personal struggles with raw honesty. The production is minimalist but effective, and the album feels like an intimate glimpse into Kanye's mind.
9. Jesus Is King (2019)
   
   • Rating: 7/10
   • Why: This gospel-inspired album reflects Kanye's newfound religious devotion. While it may not be as groundbreaking as his previous works, it offers a cohesive and focused exploration of faith. The production is polished, and the album's message is clear and earnest.
10. Donda (2021)
    
    • Rating: 7/10
    • Why: Named after his late mother, "Donda" is expansive and ambitious, featuring a wide array of collaborators. While it has moments of brilliance, it can feel uneven at times. The album’s length and diversity make it a challenging but rewarding listen.
11. Watch the Throne (with Jay-Z) (2011)
    
    • Rating: 8/10
    • Why: This collaborative album with Jay-Z is a celebration of success and opulence. The production is grand and luxurious, with standout tracks that showcase both artists' strengths. It’s a cultural milestone, blending the best of both artists.
12. Kids See Ghosts (with Kid Cudi) (2018)
    
    • Rating: 8/10
    • Why: This collaborative project with Kid Cudi explores themes of mental health and healing. The production is experimental and psychedelic, creating a unique and cohesive sound. It’s a short but powerful statement from both artists.

Each of these albums showcases Kanye's versatility and willingness to push boundaries, solidifying his status as one of the most influential artists in modern music

DOWN BY THE WATER BY AL BRUNO III
And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.
But Ophelia said she'd be here.
She promised.
*
It had taken four hours of driving to reach Cape Cod. It was me, my mother and father, and my brother Leon, who was a year and a half older than me, the darling daughter. Ordinarily, my father celebrated his son's victories with men-only trips to New York City or Lake George. But since his beloved all-star was heading off to college in the fall, he decided it would be a family affair.
No matter how much I'd tried to weasel out of it, father still made me go. It wasn't because they were worried about me getting into some kind of trouble; it was simply an unspoken rule in the Sweet family that I never got what I wanted.
An hour into the trip, Leon started ragging on me, making snide remarks about my grades, my waistline, and my therapist, then waving his scholarship under my nose. I ignored it for as long as I could, but my Walkman's batteries died as we passed through Sturbridge, Massachusetts, so I decided that would be the perfect time to bring up his DUI. All Hell broke loose in the car; it got so bad that we had to pull over so my father could tell me in no uncertain terms that I was seventeen and I needed to grow up and get my head on straight.
As always, mother tried to be the peacemaker and failed miserably.
The rest of the car ride was icily quiet, except for the music on the radio, but father started to perk up as he got closer to the cabin. He was so proud of the deal he'd gotten.
We turned left on a street called Patti Page Way onto a long dirt driveway. Once we reached the cabin, we understood it hadn't been a deal at all; it had been a robbery. The outside of the cabin was a wreck, with peeling paint, a sagging porch, and a crooked hanging bench. Tiles were missing from the red roof, and the windows were cracked and covered in grime.
It looked like it should have been condemned, not rented out. My mother and I said we should double back and find a hotel, but my father, of course, would have none of it. "It's already paid for! Non-refundable! You're not even giving it a chance. Let's look inside."
The inside of the cabin wasn't nearly as bad, but it was obvious it hadn't been cleaned in a while. There was a layer of dust on the worn-out furniture, and cobwebs adorned the corners of the room. My mother went to the bedrooms to check for bedbugs or worse and returned with a nod of reluctant approval.
"See?" my father said, "It's not so bad, and besides, after you girls clean it up a little..."
"Us girls?" I dropped my bags on the floor. "I thought this was a family vacation."
Leon rolled his eyes, and my father looked ready to turn purple. mother tried to get in the middle, "What she meant was that we didn't come all this way just-"
"Oh, I know what she meant all right." My father looked right over mother and glared at me. I could feel the 'I work all day speech' coming.
He said, ”I work all day so you and your Goddamn mother can have nice things, and all you give me is grief."
"It's not fair," I said.
"Honey, maybe if we worked together..." mother began, but she stopped talking when my father's glare turned her way.
With that, Leon and my father announced they were going to the store to get pizza and beer. But of course, my father couldn't leave without one last barb at me, "Besides, a little work might help you slim down a little."
Leon laughed. ”You hear that Chubbs?”
Face contorted with rage, I stormed out of that rat-hole cabin, shouting, "That's not my name!" If anyone called out after me, I didn't hear. I ran to the beach, determined not to let them see me cry.
I'd never seen the ocean, except for movies and TV. It was huge, stretching across the horizon. Looking at it made me feel small, but I didn't mind. My science teacher had told me that the oceans were the first things the Earth created. They would probably be the last things to go.There were big ugly seagulls everywhere and tiny, nervous-looking birds that divided most of their time between sifting in the mud and running in terror at the slightest motion. Small shells cracked under my feet. Slipping off my shoes, I waded into the surf, feeling the waves brushing against and around my legs.
As I waded through the water, I saw my reflection. For as long as I can remember, I've despised what I saw staring back at me. My weight, the constant burden I carried, distorted my image, making me appear older than my years. I had battled with it for as long as I could remember, dieting on and off since I was eight years old, yet nothing seemed to make a difference. Two years ago, someone mistook me for Leon's mother, and that was the moment I mostly gave up trying to change. Still, despite my aversion, I could not look away as I watched how the ripples in the water pulled me apart and pieced me back together again.
It was like I was hypnotized. I walked along the water's edge, not glancing up until distant voices startled me. That's when I realized it was twilight, and the ocean had turned a bruised purple color.
When I got back to the cabin, I found my mother nearly in tears, "Where were you? We were worried sick! We almost called the police."
"I'm sorry," I said.
Leon and my father were sitting at the rickety table, a plate of chicken bones in front of each of them. My father stood up and approached me. His breath was sour, and there were shreds of chicken in his teeth. "Are you trying to ruin this vacation?"
"Look, I just-"
"You're miserable and ungrateful, and I won't stand for it," He poked me in the chest, just hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to leave a mark, "You are gonna shape up and fly right? Do you hear me?"
Leon rolled his eyes, "Oh, like she'll ever get in shape."
mother hushed him but let my father continue his performance. He said, "I didn't bring you up here so you could screw around and do whatever you want to do! We are here to vacation as a family!"
"I'm..." the words stung my mouth, "I'm sorry."
He smiled with satisfaction and gestured to the table, "I didn't like the looks of the pizza place, so we got some Kentucky Fried Chicken. I got you a large meal."
He turned to go outside and have a smoke, Leon tagged along after him. mother busied herself cleaning up while I ate all the food my father had brought, hating myself with every bite.
*
Despite being warned we were going on a deep-sea fishing trip, no one was ready for my father shouting and bullying us all awake more than an hour before sunrise. My mother was barely awake, but he was already ordering her and me to make breakfast. I didn't mind helping, but I did mind that Leon didn't have to lift a finger.
One sloppily made breakfast later, we were in the car making our way to the marina. Leon was in the front seat listening to my father's stories about the deep sea fishing expeditions he had gone on as a single man in the Navy. My mother’s gaze shifted down to her lap when he said those had been the best days of his life.
Leon asked about the ship, and my father began to explain the difference between a regular yacht and a sport fishing yacht but suddenly I realized something.
"Dad, we have to go back," I said, "I forgot my jacket."
"So?" He said.
"You said it would be freezing."
"And I said not to forget anything." he shrugged. He actually picked up speed as he maneuvered the car onto the interstate. Ten years ago, he'd told me I was his princess and he would do anything for me.
My mother piped up, "It's not such a bother, is it? We don't want her to catch cold."
"No."
"That's all right," she patted my arm, "We'll just buy you a jacket when we get to the marina. They must have a gift shop around there."
"We are not buying her a goddamn thing," my father said.
"Good thing she's got all that blubber to protect her," Leon said in a stage whisper.
"Ginny, Let me handle this," my father said. "Maybe she wouldn't be such a brat if she had to deal with some consequences once in a while."
"Oh," I said, "like your son had to deal with his consequences? How much did you spend to keep him out of jail?"
The answer was a lot. My father had moved Heaven and Earth to protect Leon and his 'promising future.' It had hurt our family financially and socially, and he had forbidden any of us to talk about it. But at moments like this, I was glad to bring it up; it felt good to remind them that the Boy Wonder had feet of clay.
"God damn it!" He pounded his fist on the steering wheel, "Can you not be a bitch for five minutes?"
"I don't know," My reply was lightning fast, so fast that I didn't realize the words had come from my mouth, "Can you not be a bastard?"
The brakes squealed as my father swerved us onto the shoulder. My mother gasped, and my brother snickered; a line had been crossed, but so many lines had been crossed over the last few years. I barely cared anymore. All I could think to myself was how we used to be a family. What happened to us?
He unbuckled himself and turned around in his seat, "You think you can talk to me like that? All this over a damn coat."
"Yes." I said, "Over a coat!"
"That's it." He said, and I flinched instinctively, "You're grounded."
"Grounded?"
We sped back to the cabin, and with every twist and turn of the wheel, my mother and brother grew more and more worried that my father was going to send us plowing into a tree or a ditch.
Finally, we arrived back at the cabin, and my father slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Without a word, he shifted into park and turned off the engine. We all sat there in silence, waiting for his next move.
My father turned to face me, "Get out.” He pointed towards the cabin's front door. "Go to your room and stay there until we get back."
I started to speak, but my mother shushed me, "Just do what he says. Please don't make any more trouble."
"We're gonna be late," Leon said.
I sighed and stepped out of the car onto the dusty gravel driveway. My family drove away. They left me behind. The sound of their departure echoed in my ears. I trudged up to the front door, wondering if any of them had spared me a backward glance.
When I was alone in the cabin, I did not go straight to my room; I plopped down on the couch. I had been looking forward to today; I had been so excited at the thought of being out on the ocean so far out on the ocean, that the shore would be just a memory. I had been so excited that I had forgotten my jacket. Now I could see it across the room, slung over the arm of the recliner. The sight of it made me bury my face in my hands. I stayed that way for a long time. Then I went to my temporary bedroom like a good girl and hated myself for it.
With nothing else to do, I napped and listened to my Walkman going through every one of the Police's albums, from Outlandos d'Amour to Synchronicity.
It was just a little while after lunch when the calls began. I answered immediately, thinking it was my parents checking up on me somehow. "Hello?"
I heard a man’s voice ask, "Is she there?” He was weeping. "Who is this?" I asked.
"Who is this?"
"I think you have the wrong number," I said.
“Ophelia is it you?"
I hung up the phone with a grimace, imagining some idiot with a fake number from a bimbo who'd flashed them a polite smile at first or some fake affection at best. Better them than me. I started to go back to my room when the phone rang again. I waited for whoever was on the other line to give up. Ten rings later, I answered. "Hello?"
"Ophelia?" They blubbered.
"That's not my name," I said, "Please stop calling."
"You sound like her."
“I’m not her. I’m nobody.”
The voice became even more desperate and pleading, "I've waited for so long."
I put the receiver back down again.
They called back almost instantly; this time I let the phone ring, put on my Walkman, and cranked the volume all the way up. I tried to let the music transport me to a place far away from the cabin, from that phone call, from my family. ‘Message In A Bottle’ filled my ears and I imagined myself somewhere far far away.
But the ringing persisted. I heard it going on and on in the silence between one song and another. It made me feel uneasy with questions. Finally, inevitably, I ripped off the earphones and picked up the phone again. "Look, I told you already, you have the wrong number," I said.
“I did everything you asked.” The voice on the other end of the line trembled, “I’ve been waiting for so long."
"Please." I pleaded, “stop bothering me."
"I need to see you." He said, "I'm coming to see you now."
"You don't even know-"
"328 Patti Page Way." The stranger started weeping again, "Don't you remember? We walked from the cabin to the beach and held hands at the promontory."
My stomach dropped. I quickly ended the call and retreated back to my room. After a few panicked moments, I put the chair in front of the door. How did they know where I was? I envisioned a local Romeo bewitched by a visiting Juliet. Now Juliet was long gone and Romeo was heartbroken. And where did that leave me?
Alone and defenseless with my family miles away. I hated myself for arguing over a stupid jacket. Was it really worth it? Arguing with people who would never let me win? Why couldn't I just grin and bear it?
The hours dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. I was terrified and bored; I didn't dare put my headphones back on, so I listened. Every creak and groan of the cabin seemed to taunt me. My nerves were shot as I waited for something, anything, to happen. Was the caller all talk and no action, or would some maniac break down the front door in search of his lost Ophelia?
A dozen forevers later, I heard the family car pulling up outside. Relief made me feel weak, but I still managed to un-baracade myself from my room and meet them at the door. My family looked sunburnt and exhausted; when I hugged my father, he reeked of salt and sweat, but I didn't care one damn bit. "Looks like someone learned their lesson."
There was a long pause before he reluctantly hugged me back. My mother entered the cabin holding up the bag of fast food she had gotten for me. When my brother passed my field of vision, he gave me a smirk . I didn’t care. I didn't argue; I just didn't want to be alone and afraid anymore.
*
That night, as I scarfed down my burger, I told them about the creep on the phone. My mother was horrified and said I should have called the police; my brother rolled his eyes and said I should have just left the phone off the receiver, and my father told me next time, I should grab a steak knife before I went into hiding. That night, I couldn't sleep well. The sound of the ocean was louder than usual, making me feel restless.
The next morning my mother said she wanted us all to go to the beach as a family. My father agreed with a grunt. Leon asked if he could call his friends from a few days ago and have them meet us there. My parents were fine with that.As soon as my brother was off the phone, we grabbed our cooler, beach chairs, and towels. We walked the short distance to the shore. The ocean was just as beautiful before. Sunlight danced upon the waves, creating a breathtaking display of shimmering light. I wanted to stare but instead helped my family find a spot and set up our little beach camp. My brother Leon, ignoring our mother's protests that we had just arrived, went off in search of his friends. I told my parents I wanted to go for a swim, and my father told me to be careful. My mother looked me over and asked why I wasn't wearing the nice new bathing suit she had gotten for me. I didn't really want to go into the water in shorts and a T-shirt, did I?
I explained that I was wearing the pale pink one-piece bathing suit she had bought me- under my t-shirt and shorts. That led to an argument that was as gentle as it was relentless; my mother won out, and I stripped out of my shorts and t-shirt. My father scowled at me and looked away. The salty breeze whipped at my hair, and as I waded into the cold water. Slowly, I let myself sink into the sea, allowing my body to float on its surface. The vastness of the ocean made my insecurity and anger seem insignificatant.
Looking back to the beach, I saw Leon returning with a small group of new friends: two girls and two guys. They introduced themselves to my parents. Then they stripped out of their street clothes, revealing bathing suits beneath. One of the girls wore a swimsuit exactly like the one from the Christie Brinkley poster. My father did not look away from her. An incoming wave lifted me up and dropped me back down again. When I looked back, they were running into the surf, laughing and splashing each other."
There was no way I wanted to share my part of the ocean with them. So I picked a direction and started to swim, my limbs moving with practiced ease. I had always been a good swimmer, but everything changed when I turned twelve and started to gain weight. Despite being an athletic kid, I began overeating in seventh grade. Our house had always been full of snacks, but suddenly, I couldn’t keep my hands off them. I don’t know what changed, but everyone else seemed to have an opinion about it and each one was worse than the last.
Mindful of the riptides, I kept the beach to my left as I swam. I saw volleyball players, solitary people reading, women sunbathing, children playing, strangers all of them but I knew if they saw me they would snicker and make snide remarks.
After a while, longer than I expected, my muscles began to ache, and fatigue set in. It was time to return to land and rest. Maybe I would walk back or maybe just sit on the sand for a while. In the distance, I noticed a formation of rocks jutting out from the water's surface. It was wide enough for three people to walk along and stretched all the way back to the beach. As I swam closer, I saw it rose about five feet above the waves. The closer I got, the rougher the ocean became, pushing me towards the rocks. I struggled to maintain control, but the relentless waves made keeping my head above water difficult. Salt water filled my mouth, and I collided with the ugly crag with bruising force.
I floated there for a few minutes, clinging to the rock formation. Finding a sturdy handhold, I began to climb, my tired muscles groaning with effort. Finally, I pushed myself up and lay flat on my back, staring at the sky and the gulls. I concentrated on nothing more than catching my breath.
What would have happened if I had drowned? If the angry tide had smashed me against the rocks with fatal force? Would my family even care? Or would they be relieved? Would they make jokes as they searched for a Plus-Size coffin?
I shut my eyes tightly and kept them closed until I heard a splashing noise nearby. Then, I sat upright and let my feet dangle over the edge of the rocky outcrop. The water was further below now, and I couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed while I lay there, blind to the world.
There was another splashing sound, and then her body broke the surface of the water below me; I hadn't seen anyone swimming there. Her hair was dark, and her face belonged on the cover of a beauty magazine. She was wearing nothing but a white blouse that was two sizes too large for her. The wet fabric revealed a body like something out of Leon's wet dreams. I wanted to grab one of the loose rocks nearby and drop it on her.
She scaled the jagged rocks with the fluid grace of a seal emerging from the water. Our eyes met, and she flashed a smile. "I didn't see you up there.” Dark hair clung to her skin, droplets of water trailing down her face. “I hope I'm not bothering you.”
I shrugged. "It's a free country." Then, with a hint of sarcasm, I added, "Couldn't afford a swimsuit?”
Her smile turned playful. "I have everything I need."
"I bet you do." The bitterness in my voice surprised me, and a twinge of guilt followed. What had she ever done to deserve that? Attempting to recover, I asked, "Uhm, do you like the beach?”
"I love the ocean," she fiddled with the wet fabric covering her torso, pulling it away from her skin only to have it settle back into place just as translucent as before. I got a strange feeling she was doing it for my benefit. "Unknowable, Uncontrollable. And deeper than any of us could imagine."
"That's pretty poetic."
"You have such serious eyes," She said. "Tell me your name."
I did. Then she moved closer, her face even with mine. Her smile became strange. She leaned in close, I thought she was going to say something, perhaps share a secret, but instead, she kissed me. Electric shocks ran through me. I felt numb. I felt sick. I felt warm all over.
The kiss broke. "Who are you?" I breathed.
Before she dove off the rock pier, she uttered just one word: "Ophelia." The name caught me off guard. I was still in shock from our kiss and didn't even hear the splash when she hit the water.
Scrambling drunkenly to my feet I raced back to my parents, the hot sand of the beach burning my feet, the taste of seawater heavy in my mouth, the cool breeze wafting off the ocean making me shiver. Or maybe it was something else making me shiver. I found my family packing up; my mother asked where I had been, and my father demanded to know what I had been up to. I made an excuse about riptides and losing track of where I was, and they believed it. All the while, Leon and his friends watched me and shared conspiratorial grins. On the walk back to the cabin, the girl in the Christie Brinkley swimsuit said, "Your brother told us all about you."
I was about to say something sarcastic when one of the guys said, “Why are you wearing lipstick?"
That stopped me dead in my tracks. I realized the taste in my mouth that I had taken to be seawater was something else. When I touched my lips with my fingers they came back stained red. When had I bitten my lip?
*
A noise outside the cabin startled me awake. I went to my cracked bedroom window and peered out into the darkness. I didn’t know how late at night it was but sunrise must have been hours away. The noise was like whispering; it wasn’t just one voice but several. Yet, even as that thought occurred, uncertainty crept in—were they really voices? Somehow, I just wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was that, somehow, the sounds were familiar to me, like something out of a dream.
I needed to know what it was. So I quickly threw on the clothes I had worn the day before and quietly made my way to the front door, careful not to wake anyone else in the cabin. There were no stars or moon, just the shadowy outline of low-hanging clouds. As I stepped onto the porch I nearly stumbled over the empty cooler that had been left behind by my parents. There was a sickening moment when I thought I was going to fall flat on my face, but I caught myself on the railing.
The air was warm and thick. Without thinking, I stepped off the porch and began to follow the sound of the whispers that were not whispers. My steps were cautious and shuffling as I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Gradually, I realized I was making my way along the familiar path to the beach.
The ocean was a mirror of the starless sky; I knew it was there only by the salty breeze and the rumbling crash of the waves. The sound of waves was so loud that it drowned out the whispers, but they were still there. I closed my eyes, trading one darkness for another, and tried to orient myself to the sound. I was sure it was somewhere to the east, but before I could follow it, I heard a familiar voice. It was the stranger from the phone, "Ophelia!"
My heart began to pound in my chest; sick with fear, I spun in place, looking for him, but I might as well have had my eyes closed.
"Ophelia!"
A figure emerged from the blackness, the outline of a man shuffling along the shore. His shoulders were hunched. I could imagine the tears running down his face, the gaunt face looking far older than the body that carried it. “You said you’d be here,” he said, his voice fading into the sound of the ocean, “You promised.”
Certain he believed he was alone, I began to back away slowly. I didn't dare run. With every step, I feared he would notice me and, despite my very different shape, mistake me for Ophelia. What was it I'd heard my father say to Leon? Something about every woman being the same in the dark.
The not-quite whispers were closer now. I followed the sound until I found myself where the rocky outcropping that had nearly killed me met the beach.
Fear and curiosity drove me to make my way along the ugly crag; water lapped at my feet, numbing them almost immediately. More, by instinct than anything else, I stopped at the edge of the outcrop. The waves were knee-level now, splashing against me relentlessly, trying to push me back. There was inky blackness all around me.
The whispering chorus stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. Impossibily the sound of the waves also vanished and I stood there unmoving, unseeing and unhearing. It made me remember that when I was a little girl, this is what I had imagined being dead felt like.
"I found you!" The sound of the stranger's voice jolted me. He was close behind me, a fast-approaching shadow. Panicked, I ran blindly and blundered over the side of the rock formation into the dark water.
Cold oblivion consumed me.*
I regained consciousness in a cave lit by unseen candles. Strange symbols adorned the walls, and the air was heavy with the scent of saltwater and decay. As my vision adjusted, I saw slender, ethereal shapes moving in the shadows, tending to something—an ugly silhouette that thrashed and gurgled.
A familiar figure loomed over me. Wet, dark hair and sea-blue eyes filled my vision. Her hand stroked my face, gentle yet firm. "Ophelia," I said.
"You've been asleep for so long." She propped my head up, bringing a clamshell to my lips. The water was salty and stung, but before I could protest, I realized I was naked. My clothes lay spread across the rock floor, slowly drying.
Humiliated, I curled into a ball, trying to cover myself. "Don't look at me!" I whispered.
Ophelia grabbed my wrists and pulled me into a sitting position. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." She was naked, too, her skin gleaming as though she had just left the water. "None of us do."
My heart raced, on the verge of tears. "Where am I?"
"Among friends." She drew me close.
I glanced at the feminine shapes lingering in the shadows; they had drawn closer to the figure at their feet. A sound reminiscent of a fish being scaled echoed in the cave, followed by a familiar sob. It was the man from the phone.
"Who are they?" my voice was barely above a whisper.
"Ophelia"
"I thought you were-” I began.
"We are all Ophelias," she said, her expression darkening, "Born to be martyrs in men's eyes."
I said, "I don't understand."
Ophelia’s mouth became an angry frown, ”We can be daughters, lovers, even angels, but we can never be free from that hateful thing they pretend is love.”
I asked, “Why did you bring me here?”
“Why don’t you stay?”
"You don't even know my name." I breathed, “You don’t know who I am?”
"Do you?" She said with a kiss. She pushed me down onto my back. As her lips moved across my skin, each kiss felt like a cold drop of winter rain. Dizziness washed over me. It was like I was on an elevator that wouldn't stop going up. “Who do you want to be? Are you who others say you are?"
Ophelia started running her nails hard across my chest and belly. I wanted to escape. I never wanted to leave. It was like she was taking me, making me hers. Blood welled up from the cuts and scrapes. She kissed the wounds she had made, one by one, her lips smearing red. The cave was filled with whispered songs that had no words. Her murmuring joined them.
When it was over she held me close.
“I love you,” the voice of the man from the phone said. He sounded like he was drowning, “Isn’t that enough?” He coughed twice and then fell silent.
The candles began to go out one by one, and shadows began to swallow her, trying to snatch her away from me. I kissed her hard on the mouth, losing myself in her. In a matter of seconds, I was lost in darkness.
* It was late in the morning when I awoke. I was lying flat on my back on the crag. The clouds above were a stormy purple, and the rain was coming down hard. I was soaking wet, and my clothes were plastered to my skin. I heard a familiar voice calling my name, but it wasn't one I wanted to hear. I moaned, half with exhaustion, half with anguish. My skin still ached and tingled in the places Ophelia had clawed at me.
With trembling hands, I crawled to the ledge and looked down. The tide had gone out. Fifteen feet below me, Leon was trudging along the surf, wet and miserable, and shouting my name.
"Leon?" I called out. For a hilarious moment, he was utterly bewildered, his square head swiveling back and forth. I called again, "Up here!”
When he finally saw me, he started screaming, "You are in big trouble! Dad is seriously pissed!”
"I just went for a walk.”
"A walk? You've been gone for over a day!" Leon blundered closer until he was directly below me. I could have spit on him if I wanted to.
I scowled down at him, remembering all the times he had disappeared for an entire weekend without a single phone call, only to return to a gentle reprimand from our father instead of a harsh scolding and a slap to the back of the head. I used one of his excuses, "I was with friends."
The expression on his face twisted as if he were looking at something disgusting. "Delores told me she saw you here last night!"
Bile rose up in my throat. "So what?”
"She saw what you were doing! Are you crazy? Why can't you just be normal? What is wrong with—"
A stone the size of a bowling ball crashed down on Leon, crushing his skull. He collapsed face down into the surf, blood clouding the seawater.
I scrambled to my feet to find Ophelia standing near me. "You killed him," I said.
The waves greedily pulled at Leon's body, twisting and bending it like a rag doll only to push it back up the sand again.
I know I should have felt something, but I didn’t. “What am I going to do?’"I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of the rain and the racing of my own thoughts.
“What do you want to do?”
"I want to be with you." The rain pelted us. It was getting cold and dark, but it didn't matter. I felt safe in her arms., "I want to be with you forever."
"Then be with us," she said.
"What about Leon?"
Ophelia chuckled coldly. ”What about him?"
"But the police will find out," I said.
She released me and stepped to the edge of the crag, "In the deep dark," She said, "We are free from judgment."
The downpour had become torrential. Ophelia's words caused me to gaze longingly at the ocean. Each wave crashed against the shore with a powerful roar, sending spray and mist into the air.
She kissed my forehead.
There were no second thoughts, no worries. I turned and started walking back to the cabin. After a few minutes, I turned back to look for Ophelia. Through the storm, I saw four hazy but unmistakably masculine figures standing by Leon's body. Moving clumsily, they lifted his limp form and carried it into the sea.
*
From the moment I stepped into the cabin my father started screaming at me, my mother was silent and glared reporachfully. The stinging sensation of my scratches was intensifying to the point of almost being pleasurable.
Turning away from them, I walked calmly to the kitchenette. Their voices seemed distant as if echoing from the base of a rocky cliff during low tide. Steady-handed, I reached into the kitchen drawer and retrieved a steak knife. My father's insult rang out. "Oh, Jesus Christ! She's going to make a sandwich!"
Ignoring him was easy. Everything he said was familiar. I waited until his temper broke, and he all but ran at me. He violently grabbed my shoulder, yanking me around to face him.
The knife was dull, but my strength proved more than sufficient to slice open his throat. Blood splattered across both our faces. His scream was gurgling and wet, his mouth gaping like a fish. He stumbled backward, clutching at his neck, tripped over his own feet, and collapsed. I stood there, watching as my father spent the final moments of his life weeping.
When it was over, I looked to my mother. She had been standing by watching, just like always. "Angela, please," she cowered at my approach.
I raised the bloody knife above my head, "That's not my name."
*
There was enough kerosene left in the cabin's rusty heater, to start a good fire. I watched the structure burn for a little while. I felt nothing; I hadn't felt anything at all since I left Ophelia's arms. When I was finished I headed for the shore.
And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.
But Ophelia said she'd be here.
She promised.
The tingling under my skin was painful. I ripped at my clothes and tore madly at the scabs. They broke open easily. The flesh beneath them was unblemished and gleaming.
I waded out into the cold, crashing water, leaving my shirt, shorts, and long red strips of my flesh behind. In the unknowable depths, I would never be a daughter, a punchline, or a scapegoat. I would be free.
With each footstep, the roar of the waves changed, becoming softer and prayer-like. It sounded like a chorus of voices calling out the name "Ophelia."
Voices so very much like mine.

DOWN BY THE WATER BY AL BRUNO III
And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.
But Ophelia said she'd be here.
She promised.
*
It had taken four hours of driving to reach Cape Cod. It was me, my mother and father, and my brother Leon, who was a year and a half older than me, the darling daughter. Ordinarily, my father celebrated his son's victories with men-only trips to New York City or Lake George. But since his beloved all-star was heading off to college in the fall, he decided it would be a family affair.
No matter how much I'd tried to weasel out of it, father still made me go. It wasn't because they were worried about me getting into some kind of trouble; it was simply an unspoken rule in the Sweet family that I never got what I wanted.
An hour into the trip, Leon started ragging on me, making snide remarks about my grades, my waistline, and my therapist, then waving his scholarship under my nose. I ignored it for as long as I could, but my Walkman's batteries died as we passed through Sturbridge, Massachusetts, so I decided that would be the perfect time to bring up his DUI. All Hell broke loose in the car; it got so bad that we had to pull over so my father could tell me in no uncertain terms that I was seventeen and I needed to grow up and get my head on straight.
As always, mother tried to be the peacemaker and failed miserably.
The rest of the car ride was icily quiet, except for the music on the radio, but father started to perk up as he got closer to the cabin. He was so proud of the deal he'd gotten.
We turned left on a street called Patti Page Way onto a long dirt driveway. Once we reached the cabin, we understood it hadn't been a deal at all; it had been a robbery. The outside of the cabin was a wreck, with peeling paint, a sagging porch, and a crooked hanging bench. Tiles were missing from the red roof, and the windows were cracked and covered in grime.
It looked like it should have been condemned, not rented out. My mother and I said we should double back and find a hotel, but my father, of course, would have none of it. "It's already paid for! Non-refundable! You're not even giving it a chance. Let's look inside."
The inside of the cabin wasn't nearly as bad, but it was obvious it hadn't been cleaned in a while. There was a layer of dust on the worn-out furniture, and cobwebs adorned the corners of the room. My mother went to the bedrooms to check for bedbugs or worse and returned with a nod of reluctant approval.
"See?" my father said, "It's not so bad, and besides, after you girls clean it up a little..."
"Us girls?" I dropped my bags on the floor. "I thought this was a family vacation."
Leon rolled his eyes, and my father looked ready to turn purple. mother tried to get in the middle, "What she meant was that we didn't come all this way just-"
"Oh, I know what she meant all right." My father looked right over mother and glared at me. I could feel the 'I work all day speech' coming.
He said, ”I work all day so you and your Goddamn mother can have nice things, and all you give me is grief."
"It's not fair," I said.
"Honey, maybe if we worked together..." mother began, but she stopped talking when my father's glare turned her way.
With that, Leon and my father announced they were going to the store to get pizza and beer. But of course, my father couldn't leave without one last barb at me, "Besides, a little work might help you slim down a little."
Leon laughed. ”You hear that Chubbs?”
Face contorted with rage, I stormed out of that rat-hole cabin, shouting, "That's not my name!" If anyone called out after me, I didn't hear. I ran to the beach, determined not to let them see me cry.
I'd never seen the ocean, except for movies and TV. It was huge, stretching across the horizon. Looking at it made me feel small, but I didn't mind. My science teacher had told me that the oceans were the first things the Earth created. They would probably be the last things to go.There were big ugly seagulls everywhere and tiny, nervous-looking birds that divided most of their time between sifting in the mud and running in terror at the slightest motion. Small shells cracked under my feet. Slipping off my shoes, I waded into the surf, feeling the waves brushing against and around my legs.
As I waded through the water, I saw my reflection. For as long as I can remember, I've despised what I saw staring back at me. My weight, the constant burden I carried, distorted my image, making me appear older than my years. I had battled with it for as long as I could remember, dieting on and off since I was eight years old, yet nothing seemed to make a difference. Two years ago, someone mistook me for Leon's mother, and that was the moment I mostly gave up trying to change. Still, despite my aversion, I could not look away as I watched how the ripples in the water pulled me apart and pieced me back together again.
It was like I was hypnotized. I walked along the water's edge, not glancing up until distant voices startled me. That's when I realized it was twilight, and the ocean had turned a bruised purple color.
When I got back to the cabin, I found my mother nearly in tears, "Where were you? We were worried sick! We almost called the police."
"I'm sorry," I said.
Leon and my father were sitting at the rickety table, a plate of chicken bones in front of each of them. My father stood up and approached me. His breath was sour, and there were shreds of chicken in his teeth. "Are you trying to ruin this vacation?"
"Look, I just-"
"You're miserable and ungrateful, and I won't stand for it," He poked me in the chest, just hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to leave a mark, "You are gonna shape up and fly right? Do you hear me?"
Leon rolled his eyes, "Oh, like she'll ever get in shape."
mother hushed him but let my father continue his performance. He said, "I didn't bring you up here so you could screw around and do whatever you want to do! We are here to vacation as a family!"
"I'm..." the words stung my mouth, "I'm sorry."
He smiled with satisfaction and gestured to the table, "I didn't like the looks of the pizza place, so we got some Kentucky Fried Chicken. I got you a large meal."
He turned to go outside and have a smoke, Leon tagged along after him. mother busied herself cleaning up while I ate all the food my father had brought, hating myself with every bite.
*
Despite being warned we were going on a deep-sea fishing trip, no one was ready for my father shouting and bullying us all awake more than an hour before sunrise. My mother was barely awake, but he was already ordering her and me to make breakfast. I didn't mind helping, but I did mind that Leon didn't have to lift a finger.
One sloppily made breakfast later, we were in the car making our way to the marina. Leon was in the front seat listening to my father's stories about the deep sea fishing expeditions he had gone on as a single man in the Navy. My mother’s gaze shifted down to her lap when he said those had been the best days of his life.
Leon asked about the ship, and my father began to explain the difference between a regular yacht and a sport fishing yacht but suddenly I realized something.
"Dad, we have to go back," I said, "I forgot my jacket."
"So?" He said.
"You said it would be freezing."
"And I said not to forget anything." he shrugged. He actually picked up speed as he maneuvered the car onto the interstate. Ten years ago, he'd told me I was his princess and he would do anything for me.
My mother piped up, "It's not such a bother, is it? We don't want her to catch cold."
"No."
"That's all right," she patted my arm, "We'll just buy you a jacket when we get to the marina. They must have a gift shop around there."
"We are not buying her a goddamn thing," my father said.
"Good thing she's got all that blubber to protect her," Leon said in a stage whisper.
"Ginny, Let me handle this," my father said. "Maybe she wouldn't be such a brat if she had to deal with some consequences once in a while."
"Oh," I said, "like your son had to deal with his consequences? How much did you spend to keep him out of jail?"
The answer was a lot. My father had moved Heaven and Earth to protect Leon and his 'promising future.' It had hurt our family financially and socially, and he had forbidden any of us to talk about it. But at moments like this, I was glad to bring it up; it felt good to remind them that the Boy Wonder had feet of clay.
"God damn it!" He pounded his fist on the steering wheel, "Can you not be a bitch for five minutes?"
"I don't know," My reply was lightning fast, so fast that I didn't realize the words had come from my mouth, "Can you not be a bastard?"
The brakes squealed as my father swerved us onto the shoulder. My mother gasped, and my brother snickered; a line had been crossed, but so many lines had been crossed over the last few years. I barely cared anymore. All I could think to myself was how we used to be a family. What happened to us?
He unbuckled himself and turned around in his seat, "You think you can talk to me like that? All this over a damn coat."
"Yes." I said, "Over a coat!"
"That's it." He said, and I flinched instinctively, "You're grounded."
"Grounded?"
We sped back to the cabin, and with every twist and turn of the wheel, my mother and brother grew more and more worried that my father was going to send us plowing into a tree or a ditch.
Finally, we arrived back at the cabin, and my father slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Without a word, he shifted into park and turned off the engine. We all sat there in silence, waiting for his next move.
My father turned to face me, "Get out.” He pointed towards the cabin's front door. "Go to your room and stay there until we get back."
I started to speak, but my mother shushed me, "Just do what he says. Please don't make any more trouble."
"We're gonna be late," Leon said.
I sighed and stepped out of the car onto the dusty gravel driveway. My family drove away. They left me behind. The sound of their departure echoed in my ears. I trudged up to the front door, wondering if any of them had spared me a backward glance.
When I was alone in the cabin, I did not go straight to my room; I plopped down on the couch. I had been looking forward to today; I had been so excited at the thought of being out on the ocean so far out on the ocean, that the shore would be just a memory. I had been so excited that I had forgotten my jacket. Now I could see it across the room, slung over the arm of the recliner. The sight of it made me bury my face in my hands. I stayed that way for a long time. Then I went to my temporary bedroom like a good girl and hated myself for it.
With nothing else to do, I napped and listened to my Walkman going through every one of the Police's albums, from Outlandos d'Amour to Synchronicity.
It was just a little while after lunch when the calls began. I answered immediately, thinking it was my parents checking up on me somehow. "Hello?"
I heard a man’s voice ask, "Is she there?” He was weeping. "Who is this?" I asked.
"Who is this?"
"I think you have the wrong number," I said.
“Ophelia is it you?"
I hung up the phone with a grimace, imagining some idiot with a fake number from a bimbo who'd flashed them a polite smile at first or some fake affection at best. Better them than me. I started to go back to my room when the phone rang again. I waited for whoever was on the other line to give up. Ten rings later, I answered. "Hello?"
"Ophelia?" They blubbered.
"That's not my name," I said, "Please stop calling."
"You sound like her."
“I’m not her. I’m nobody.”
The voice became even more desperate and pleading, "I've waited for so long."
I put the receiver back down again.
They called back almost instantly; this time I let the phone ring, put on my Walkman, and cranked the volume all the way up. I tried to let the music transport me to a place far away from the cabin, from that phone call, from my family. ‘Message In A Bottle’ filled my ears and I imagined myself somewhere far far away.
But the ringing persisted. I heard it going on and on in the silence between one song and another. It made me feel uneasy with questions. Finally, inevitably, I ripped off the earphones and picked up the phone again. "Look, I told you already, you have the wrong number," I said.
“I did everything you asked.” The voice on the other end of the line trembled, “I’ve been waiting for so long."
"Please." I pleaded, “stop bothering me."
"I need to see you." He said, "I'm coming to see you now."
"You don't even know-"
"328 Patti Page Way." The stranger started weeping again, "Don't you remember? We walked from the cabin to the beach and held hands at the promontory."
My stomach dropped. I quickly ended the call and retreated back to my room. After a few panicked moments, I put the chair in front of the door. How did they know where I was? I envisioned a local Romeo bewitched by a visiting Juliet. Now Juliet was long gone and Romeo was heartbroken. And where did that leave me?
Alone and defenseless with my family miles away. I hated myself for arguing over a stupid jacket. Was it really worth it? Arguing with people who would never let me win? Why couldn't I just grin and bear it?
The hours dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. I was terrified and bored; I didn't dare put my headphones back on, so I listened. Every creak and groan of the cabin seemed to taunt me. My nerves were shot as I waited for something, anything, to happen. Was the caller all talk and no action, or would some maniac break down the front door in search of his lost Ophelia?
A dozen forevers later, I heard the family car pulling up outside. Relief made me feel weak, but I still managed to un-baracade myself from my room and meet them at the door. My family looked sunburnt and exhausted; when I hugged my father, he reeked of salt and sweat, but I didn't care one damn bit. "Looks like someone learned their lesson."
There was a long pause before he reluctantly hugged me back. My mother entered the cabin holding up the bag of fast food she had gotten for me. When my brother passed my field of vision, he gave me a smirk . I didn’t care. I didn't argue; I just didn't want to be alone and afraid anymore.
*
That night, as I scarfed down my burger, I told them about the creep on the phone. My mother was horrified and said I should have called the police; my brother rolled his eyes and said I should have just left the phone off the receiver, and my father told me next time, I should grab a steak knife before I went into hiding. That night, I couldn't sleep well. The sound of the ocean was louder than usual, making me feel restless.
The next morning my mother said she wanted us all to go to the beach as a family. My father agreed with a grunt. Leon asked if he could call his friends from a few days ago and have them meet us there. My parents were fine with that.As soon as my brother was off the phone, we grabbed our cooler, beach chairs, and towels. We walked the short distance to the shore. The ocean was just as beautiful before. Sunlight danced upon the waves, creating a breathtaking display of shimmering light. I wanted to stare but instead helped my family find a spot and set up our little beach camp. My brother Leon, ignoring our mother's protests that we had just arrived, went off in search of his friends. I told my parents I wanted to go for a swim, and my father told me to be careful. My mother looked me over and asked why I wasn't wearing the nice new bathing suit she had gotten for me. I didn't really want to go into the water in shorts and a T-shirt, did I?
I explained that I was wearing the pale pink one-piece bathing suit she had bought me- under my t-shirt and shorts. That led to an argument that was as gentle as it was relentless; my mother won out, and I stripped out of my shorts and t-shirt. My father scowled at me and looked away. The salty breeze whipped at my hair, and as I waded into the cold water. Slowly, I let myself sink into the sea, allowing my body to float on its surface. The vastness of the ocean made my insecurity and anger seem insignificatant.
Looking back to the beach, I saw Leon returning with a small group of new friends: two girls and two guys. They introduced themselves to my parents. Then they stripped out of their street clothes, revealing bathing suits beneath. One of the girls wore a swimsuit exactly like the one from the Christie Brinkley poster. My father did not look away from her. An incoming wave lifted me up and dropped me back down again. When I looked back, they were running into the surf, laughing and splashing each other."
There was no way I wanted to share my part of the ocean with them. So I picked a direction and started to swim, my limbs moving with practiced ease. I had always been a good swimmer, but everything changed when I turned twelve and started to gain weight. Despite being an athletic kid, I began overeating in seventh grade. Our house had always been full of snacks, but suddenly, I couldn’t keep my hands off them. I don’t know what changed, but everyone else seemed to have an opinion about it and each one was worse than the last.
Mindful of the riptides, I kept the beach to my left as I swam. I saw volleyball players, solitary people reading, women sunbathing, children playing, strangers all of them but I knew if they saw me they would snicker and make snide remarks.
After a while, longer than I expected, my muscles began to ache, and fatigue set in. It was time to return to land and rest. Maybe I would walk back or maybe just sit on the sand for a while. In the distance, I noticed a formation of rocks jutting out from the water's surface. It was wide enough for three people to walk along and stretched all the way back to the beach. As I swam closer, I saw it rose about five feet above the waves. The closer I got, the rougher the ocean became, pushing me towards the rocks. I struggled to maintain control, but the relentless waves made keeping my head above water difficult. Salt water filled my mouth, and I collided with the ugly crag with bruising force.
I floated there for a few minutes, clinging to the rock formation. Finding a sturdy handhold, I began to climb, my tired muscles groaning with effort. Finally, I pushed myself up and lay flat on my back, staring at the sky and the gulls. I concentrated on nothing more than catching my breath.
What would have happened if I had drowned? If the angry tide had smashed me against the rocks with fatal force? Would my family even care? Or would they be relieved? Would they make jokes as they searched for a Plus-Size coffin?
I shut my eyes tightly and kept them closed until I heard a splashing noise nearby. Then, I sat upright and let my feet dangle over the edge of the rocky outcrop. The water was further below now, and I couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed while I lay there, blind to the world.
There was another splashing sound, and then her body broke the surface of the water below me; I hadn't seen anyone swimming there. Her hair was dark, and her face belonged on the cover of a beauty magazine. She was wearing nothing but a white blouse that was two sizes too large for her. The wet fabric revealed a body like something out of Leon's wet dreams. I wanted to grab one of the loose rocks nearby and drop it on her.
She scaled the jagged rocks with the fluid grace of a seal emerging from the water. Our eyes met, and she flashed a smile. "I didn't see you up there.” Dark hair clung to her skin, droplets of water trailing down her face. “I hope I'm not bothering you.”
I shrugged. "It's a free country." Then, with a hint of sarcasm, I added, "Couldn't afford a swimsuit?”
Her smile turned playful. "I have everything I need."
"I bet you do." The bitterness in my voice surprised me, and a twinge of guilt followed. What had she ever done to deserve that? Attempting to recover, I asked, "Uhm, do you like the beach?”
"I love the ocean," she fiddled with the wet fabric covering her torso, pulling it away from her skin only to have it settle back into place just as translucent as before. I got a strange feeling she was doing it for my benefit. "Unknowable, Uncontrollable. And deeper than any of us could imagine."
"That's pretty poetic."
"You have such serious eyes," She said. "Tell me your name."
I did. Then she moved closer, her face even with mine. Her smile became strange. She leaned in close, I thought she was going to say something, perhaps share a secret, but instead, she kissed me. Electric shocks ran through me. I felt numb. I felt sick. I felt warm all over.
The kiss broke. "Who are you?" I breathed.
Before she dove off the rock pier, she uttered just one word: "Ophelia." The name caught me off guard. I was still in shock from our kiss and didn't even hear the splash when she hit the water.
Scrambling drunkenly to my feet I raced back to my parents, the hot sand of the beach burning my feet, the taste of seawater heavy in my mouth, the cool breeze wafting off the ocean making me shiver. Or maybe it was something else making me shiver. I found my family packing up; my mother asked where I had been, and my father demanded to know what I had been up to. I made an excuse about riptides and losing track of where I was, and they believed it. All the while, Leon and his friends watched me and shared conspiratorial grins. On the walk back to the cabin, the girl in the Christie Brinkley swimsuit said, "Your brother told us all about you."
I was about to say something sarcastic when one of the guys said, “Why are you wearing lipstick?"
That stopped me dead in my tracks. I realized the taste in my mouth that I had taken to be seawater was something else. When I touched my lips with my fingers they came back stained red. When had I bitten my lip?
*
A noise outside the cabin startled me awake. I went to my cracked bedroom window and peered out into the darkness. I didn’t know how late at night it was but sunrise must have been hours away. The noise was like whispering; it wasn’t just one voice but several. Yet, even as that thought occurred, uncertainty crept in—were they really voices? Somehow, I just wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was that, somehow, the sounds were familiar to me, like something out of a dream.
I needed to know what it was. So I quickly threw on the clothes I had worn the day before and quietly made my way to the front door, careful not to wake anyone else in the cabin. There were no stars or moon, just the shadowy outline of low-hanging clouds. As I stepped onto the porch I nearly stumbled over the empty cooler that had been left behind by my parents. There was a sickening moment when I thought I was going to fall flat on my face, but I caught myself on the railing.
The air was warm and thick. Without thinking, I stepped off the porch and began to follow the sound of the whispers that were not whispers. My steps were cautious and shuffling as I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Gradually, I realized I was making my way along the familiar path to the beach.
The ocean was a mirror of the starless sky; I knew it was there only by the salty breeze and the rumbling crash of the waves. The sound of waves was so loud that it drowned out the whispers, but they were still there. I closed my eyes, trading one darkness for another, and tried to orient myself to the sound. I was sure it was somewhere to the east, but before I could follow it, I heard a familiar voice. It was the stranger from the phone, "Ophelia!"
My heart began to pound in my chest; sick with fear, I spun in place, looking for him, but I might as well have had my eyes closed.
"Ophelia!"
A figure emerged from the blackness, the outline of a man shuffling along the shore. His shoulders were hunched. I could imagine the tears running down his face, the gaunt face looking far older than the body that carried it. “You said you’d be here,” he said, his voice fading into the sound of the ocean, “You promised.”
Certain he believed he was alone, I began to back away slowly. I didn't dare run. With every step, I feared he would notice me and, despite my very different shape, mistake me for Ophelia. What was it I'd heard my father say to Leon? Something about every woman being the same in the dark.
The not-quite whispers were closer now. I followed the sound until I found myself where the rocky outcropping that had nearly killed me met the beach.
Fear and curiosity drove me to make my way along the ugly crag; water lapped at my feet, numbing them almost immediately. More, by instinct than anything else, I stopped at the edge of the outcrop. The waves were knee-level now, splashing against me relentlessly, trying to push me back. There was inky blackness all around me.
The whispering chorus stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. Impossibily the sound of the waves also vanished and I stood there unmoving, unseeing and unhearing. It made me remember that when I was a little girl, this is what I had imagined being dead felt like.
"I found you!" The sound of the stranger's voice jolted me. He was close behind me, a fast-approaching shadow. Panicked, I ran blindly and blundered over the side of the rock formation into the dark water.
Cold oblivion consumed me.*
I regained consciousness in a cave lit by unseen candles. Strange symbols adorned the walls, and the air was heavy with the scent of saltwater and decay. As my vision adjusted, I saw slender, ethereal shapes moving in the shadows, tending to something—an ugly silhouette that thrashed and gurgled.
A familiar figure loomed over me. Wet, dark hair and sea-blue eyes filled my vision. Her hand stroked my face, gentle yet firm. "Ophelia," I said.
"You've been asleep for so long." She propped my head up, bringing a clamshell to my lips. The water was salty and stung, but before I could protest, I realized I was naked. My clothes lay spread across the rock floor, slowly drying.
Humiliated, I curled into a ball, trying to cover myself. "Don't look at me!" I whispered.
Ophelia grabbed my wrists and pulled me into a sitting position. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." She was naked, too, her skin gleaming as though she had just left the water. "None of us do."
My heart raced, on the verge of tears. "Where am I?"
"Among friends." She drew me close.
I glanced at the feminine shapes lingering in the shadows; they had drawn closer to the figure at their feet. A sound reminiscent of a fish being scaled echoed in the cave, followed by a familiar sob. It was the man from the phone.
"Who are they?" my voice was barely above a whisper.
"Ophelia"
"I thought you were-” I began.
"We are all Ophelias," she said, her expression darkening, "Born to be martyrs in men's eyes."
I said, "I don't understand."
Ophelia’s mouth became an angry frown, ”We can be daughters, lovers, even angels, but we can never be free from that hateful thing they pretend is love.”
I asked, “Why did you bring me here?”
“Why don’t you stay?”
"You don't even know my name." I breathed, “You don’t know who I am?”
"Do you?" She said with a kiss. She pushed me down onto my back. As her lips moved across my skin, each kiss felt like a cold drop of winter rain. Dizziness washed over me. It was like I was on an elevator that wouldn't stop going up. “Who do you want to be? Are you who others say you are?"
Ophelia started running her nails hard across my chest and belly. I wanted to escape. I never wanted to leave. It was like she was taking me, making me hers. Blood welled up from the cuts and scrapes. She kissed the wounds she had made, one by one, her lips smearing red. The cave was filled with whispered songs that had no words. Her murmuring joined them.
When it was over she held me close.
“I love you,” the voice of the man from the phone said. He sounded like he was drowning, “Isn’t that enough?” He coughed twice and then fell silent.
The candles began to go out one by one, and shadows began to swallow her, trying to snatch her away from me. I kissed her hard on the mouth, losing myself in her. In a matter of seconds, I was lost in darkness.
* It was late in the morning when I awoke. I was lying flat on my back on the crag. The clouds above were a stormy purple, and the rain was coming down hard. I was soaking wet, and my clothes were plastered to my skin. I heard a familiar voice calling my name, but it wasn't one I wanted to hear. I moaned, half with exhaustion, half with anguish. My skin still ached and tingled in the places Ophelia had clawed at me.
With trembling hands, I crawled to the ledge and looked down. The tide had gone out. Fifteen feet below me, Leon was trudging along the surf, wet and miserable, and shouting my name.
"Leon?" I called out. For a hilarious moment, he was utterly bewildered, his square head swiveling back and forth. I called again, "Up here!”
When he finally saw me, he started screaming, "You are in big trouble! Dad is seriously pissed!”
"I just went for a walk.”
"A walk? You've been gone for over a day!" Leon blundered closer until he was directly below me. I could have spit on him if I wanted to.
I scowled down at him, remembering all the times he had disappeared for an entire weekend without a single phone call, only to return to a gentle reprimand from our father instead of a harsh scolding and a slap to the back of the head. I used one of his excuses, "I was with friends."
The expression on his face twisted as if he were looking at something disgusting. "Delores told me she saw you here last night!"
Bile rose up in my throat. "So what?”
"She saw what you were doing! Are you crazy? Why can't you just be normal? What is wrong with—"
A stone the size of a bowling ball crashed down on Leon, crushing his skull. He collapsed face down into the surf, blood clouding the seawater.
I scrambled to my feet to find Ophelia standing near me. "You killed him," I said.
The waves greedily pulled at Leon's body, twisting and bending it like a rag doll only to push it back up the sand again.
I know I should have felt something, but I didn’t. “What am I going to do?’"I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of the rain and the racing of my own thoughts.
“What do you want to do?”
"I want to be with you." The rain pelted us. It was getting cold and dark, but it didn't matter. I felt safe in her arms., "I want to be with you forever."
"Then be with us," she said.
"What about Leon?"
Ophelia chuckled coldly. ”What about him?"
"But the police will find out," I said.
She released me and stepped to the edge of the crag, "In the deep dark," She said, "We are free from judgment."
The downpour had become torrential. Ophelia's words caused me to gaze longingly at the ocean. Each wave crashed against the shore with a powerful roar, sending spray and mist into the air.
She kissed my forehead.
There were no second thoughts, no worries. I turned and started walking back to the cabin. After a few minutes, I turned back to look for Ophelia. Through the storm, I saw four hazy but unmistakably masculine figures standing by Leon's body. Moving clumsily, they lifted his limp form and carried it into the sea.
*
From the moment I stepped into the cabin my father started screaming at me, my mother was silent and glared reporachfully. The stinging sensation of my scratches was intensifying to the point of almost being pleasurable.
Turning away from them, I walked calmly to the kitchenette. Their voices seemed distant as if echoing from the base of a rocky cliff during low tide. Steady-handed, I reached into the kitchen drawer and retrieved a steak knife. My father's insult rang out. "Oh, Jesus Christ! She's going to make a sandwich!"
Ignoring him was easy. Everything he said was familiar. I waited until his temper broke, and he all but ran at me. He violently grabbed my shoulder, yanking me around to face him.
The knife was dull, but my strength proved more than sufficient to slice open his throat. Blood splattered across both our faces. His scream was gurgling and wet, his mouth gaping like a fish. He stumbled backward, clutching at his neck, tripped over his own feet, and collapsed. I stood there, watching as my father spent the final moments of his life weeping.
When it was over, I looked to my mother. She had been standing by watching, just like always. "Angela, please," she cowered at my approach.
I raised the bloody knife above my head, "That's not my name."
*
There was enough kerosene left in the cabin's rusty heater, to start a good fire. I watched the structure burn for a little while. I felt nothing; I hadn't felt anything at all since I left Ophelia's arms. When I was finished I headed for the shore.
And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.
But Ophelia said she'd be here.
She promised.
The tingling under my skin was painful. I ripped at my clothes and tore madly at the scabs. They broke open easily. The flesh beneath them was unblemished and gleaming.
I waded out into the cold, crashing water, leaving my shirt, shorts, and long red strips of my flesh behind. In the unknowable depths, I would never be a daughter, a punchline, or a scapegoat. I would be free.
With each footstep, the roar of the waves changed, becoming softer and prayer-like. It sounded like a chorus of voices calling out the name "Ophelia."
Voices so very much like mine.

DOWN BY THE WATER BY AL BRUNO III
And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.
But Ophelia said she'd be here.
She promised.
*
It had taken four hours of driving to reach Cape Cod. It was me, my mother and father, and my brother Leon, who was a year and a half older than me, the darling daughter. Ordinarily, my father celebrated his son's victories with men-only trips to New York City or Lake George. But since his beloved all-star was heading off to college in the fall, he decided it would be a family affair.
No matter how much I'd tried to weasel out of it, father still made me go. It wasn't because they were worried about me getting into some kind of trouble; it was simply an unspoken rule in the Sweet family that I never got what I wanted.
An hour into the trip, Leon started ragging on me, making snide remarks about my grades, my waistline, and my therapist, then waving his scholarship under my nose. I ignored it for as long as I could, but my Walkman's batteries died as we passed through Sturbridge, Massachusetts, so I decided that would be the perfect time to bring up his DUI. All Hell broke loose in the car; it got so bad that we had to pull over so my father could tell me in no uncertain terms that I was seventeen and I needed to grow up and get my head on straight.
As always, mother tried to be the peacemaker and failed miserably.
The rest of the car ride was icily quiet, except for the music on the radio, but father started to perk up as he got closer to the cabin. He was so proud of the deal he'd gotten.
We turned left on a street called Patti Page Way onto a long dirt driveway. Once we reached the cabin, we understood it hadn't been a deal at all; it had been a robbery. The outside of the cabin was a wreck, with peeling paint, a sagging porch, and a crooked hanging bench. Tiles were missing from the red roof, and the windows were cracked and covered in grime.
It looked like it should have been condemned, not rented out. My mother and I said we should double back and find a hotel, but my father, of course, would have none of it. "It's already paid for! Non-refundable! You're not even giving it a chance. Let's look inside."
The inside of the cabin wasn't nearly as bad, but it was obvious it hadn't been cleaned in a while. There was a layer of dust on the worn-out furniture, and cobwebs adorned the corners of the room. My mother went to the bedrooms to check for bedbugs or worse and returned with a nod of reluctant approval.
"See?" my father said, "It's not so bad, and besides, after you girls clean it up a little..."
"Us girls?" I dropped my bags on the floor. "I thought this was a family vacation."
Leon rolled his eyes, and my father looked ready to turn purple. mother tried to get in the middle, "What she meant was that we didn't come all this way just-"
"Oh, I know what she meant all right." My father looked right over mother and glared at me. I could feel the 'I work all day speech' coming.
He said, ”I work all day so you and your Goddamn mother can have nice things, and all you give me is grief."
"It's not fair," I said.
"Honey, maybe if we worked together..." mother began, but she stopped talking when my father's glare turned her way.
With that, Leon and my father announced they were going to the store to get pizza and beer. But of course, my father couldn't leave without one last barb at me, "Besides, a little work might help you slim down a little."
Leon laughed. ”You hear that Chubbs?”
Face contorted with rage, I stormed out of that rat-hole cabin, shouting, "That's not my name!" If anyone called out after me, I didn't hear. I ran to the beach, determined not to let them see me cry.
I'd never seen the ocean, except for movies and TV. It was huge, stretching across the horizon. Looking at it made me feel small, but I didn't mind. My science teacher had told me that the oceans were the first things the Earth created. They would probably be the last things to go.There were big ugly seagulls everywhere and tiny, nervous-looking birds that divided most of their time between sifting in the mud and running in terror at the slightest motion. Small shells cracked under my feet. Slipping off my shoes, I waded into the surf, feeling the waves brushing against and around my legs.
As I waded through the water, I saw my reflection. For as long as I can remember, I've despised what I saw staring back at me. My weight, the constant burden I carried, distorted my image, making me appear older than my years. I had battled with it for as long as I could remember, dieting on and off since I was eight years old, yet nothing seemed to make a difference. Two years ago, someone mistook me for Leon's mother, and that was the moment I mostly gave up trying to change. Still, despite my aversion, I could not look away as I watched how the ripples in the water pulled me apart and pieced me back together again.
It was like I was hypnotized. I walked along the water's edge, not glancing up until distant voices startled me. That's when I realized it was twilight, and the ocean had turned a bruised purple color.
When I got back to the cabin, I found my mother nearly in tears, "Where were you? We were worried sick! We almost called the police."
"I'm sorry," I said.
Leon and my father were sitting at the rickety table, a plate of chicken bones in front of each of them. My father stood up and approached me. His breath was sour, and there were shreds of chicken in his teeth. "Are you trying to ruin this vacation?"
"Look, I just-"
"You're miserable and ungrateful, and I won't stand for it," He poked me in the chest, just hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to leave a mark, "You are gonna shape up and fly right? Do you hear me?"
Leon rolled his eyes, "Oh, like she'll ever get in shape."
mother hushed him but let my father continue his performance. He said, "I didn't bring you up here so you could screw around and do whatever you want to do! We are here to vacation as a family!"
"I'm..." the words stung my mouth, "I'm sorry."
He smiled with satisfaction and gestured to the table, "I didn't like the looks of the pizza place, so we got some Kentucky Fried Chicken. I got you a large meal."
He turned to go outside and have a smoke, Leon tagged along after him. mother busied herself cleaning up while I ate all the food my father had brought, hating myself with every bite.
*
Despite being warned we were going on a deep-sea fishing trip, no one was ready for my father shouting and bullying us all awake more than an hour before sunrise. My mother was barely awake, but he was already ordering her and me to make breakfast. I didn't mind helping, but I did mind that Leon didn't have to lift a finger.
One sloppily made breakfast later, we were in the car making our way to the marina. Leon was in the front seat listening to my father's stories about the deep sea fishing expeditions he had gone on as a single man in the Navy. My mother’s gaze shifted down to her lap when he said those had been the best days of his life.
Leon asked about the ship, and my father began to explain the difference between a regular yacht and a sport fishing yacht but suddenly I realized something.
"Dad, we have to go back," I said, "I forgot my jacket."
"So?" He said.
"You said it would be freezing."
"And I said not to forget anything." he shrugged. He actually picked up speed as he maneuvered the car onto the interstate. Ten years ago, he'd told me I was his princess and he would do anything for me.
My mother piped up, "It's not such a bother, is it? We don't want her to catch cold."
"No."
"That's all right," she patted my arm, "We'll just buy you a jacket when we get to the marina. They must have a gift shop around there."
"We are not buying her a goddamn thing," my father said.
"Good thing she's got all that blubber to protect her," Leon said in a stage whisper.
"Ginny, Let me handle this," my father said. "Maybe she wouldn't be such a brat if she had to deal with some consequences once in a while."
"Oh," I said, "like your son had to deal with his consequences? How much did you spend to keep him out of jail?"
The answer was a lot. My father had moved Heaven and Earth to protect Leon and his 'promising future.' It had hurt our family financially and socially, and he had forbidden any of us to talk about it. But at moments like this, I was glad to bring it up; it felt good to remind them that the Boy Wonder had feet of clay.
"God damn it!" He pounded his fist on the steering wheel, "Can you not be a bitch for five minutes?"
"I don't know," My reply was lightning fast, so fast that I didn't realize the words had come from my mouth, "Can you not be a bastard?"
The brakes squealed as my father swerved us onto the shoulder. My mother gasped, and my brother snickered; a line had been crossed, but so many lines had been crossed over the last few years. I barely cared anymore. All I could think to myself was how we used to be a family. What happened to us?
He unbuckled himself and turned around in his seat, "You think you can talk to me like that? All this over a damn coat."
"Yes." I said, "Over a coat!"
"That's it." He said, and I flinched instinctively, "You're grounded."
"Grounded?"
We sped back to the cabin, and with every twist and turn of the wheel, my mother and brother grew more and more worried that my father was going to send us plowing into a tree or a ditch.
Finally, we arrived back at the cabin, and my father slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Without a word, he shifted into park and turned off the engine. We all sat there in silence, waiting for his next move.
My father turned to face me, "Get out.” He pointed towards the cabin's front door. "Go to your room and stay there until we get back."
I started to speak, but my mother shushed me, "Just do what he says. Please don't make any more trouble."
"We're gonna be late," Leon said.
I sighed and stepped out of the car onto the dusty gravel driveway. My family drove away. They left me behind. The sound of their departure echoed in my ears. I trudged up to the front door, wondering if any of them had spared me a backward glance.
When I was alone in the cabin, I did not go straight to my room; I plopped down on the couch. I had been looking forward to today; I had been so excited at the thought of being out on the ocean so far out on the ocean, that the shore would be just a memory. I had been so excited that I had forgotten my jacket. Now I could see it across the room, slung over the arm of the recliner. The sight of it made me bury my face in my hands. I stayed that way for a long time. Then I went to my temporary bedroom like a good girl and hated myself for it.
With nothing else to do, I napped and listened to my Walkman going through every one of the Police's albums, from Outlandos d'Amour to Synchronicity.
It was just a little while after lunch when the calls began. I answered immediately, thinking it was my parents checking up on me somehow. "Hello?"
I heard a man’s voice ask, "Is she there?” He was weeping. "Who is this?" I asked.
"Who is this?"
"I think you have the wrong number," I said.
“Ophelia is it you?"
I hung up the phone with a grimace, imagining some idiot with a fake number from a bimbo who'd flashed them a polite smile at first or some fake affection at best. Better them than me. I started to go back to my room when the phone rang again. I waited for whoever was on the other line to give up. Ten rings later, I answered. "Hello?"
"Ophelia?" They blubbered.
"That's not my name," I said, "Please stop calling."
"You sound like her."
“I’m not her. I’m nobody.”
The voice became even more desperate and pleading, "I've waited for so long."
I put the receiver back down again.
They called back almost instantly; this time I let the phone ring, put on my Walkman, and cranked the volume all the way up. I tried to let the music transport me to a place far away from the cabin, from that phone call, from my family. ‘Message In A Bottle’ filled my ears and I imagined myself somewhere far far away.
But the ringing persisted. I heard it going on and on in the silence between one song and another. It made me feel uneasy with questions. Finally, inevitably, I ripped off the earphones and picked up the phone again. "Look, I told you already, you have the wrong number," I said.
“I did everything you asked.” The voice on the other end of the line trembled, “I’ve been waiting for so long."
"Please." I pleaded, “stop bothering me."
"I need to see you." He said, "I'm coming to see you now."
"You don't even know-"
"328 Patti Page Way." The stranger started weeping again, "Don't you remember? We walked from the cabin to the beach and held hands at the promontory."
My stomach dropped. I quickly ended the call and retreated back to my room. After a few panicked moments, I put the chair in front of the door. How did they know where I was? I envisioned a local Romeo bewitched by a visiting Juliet. Now Juliet was long gone and Romeo was heartbroken. And where did that leave me?
Alone and defenseless with my family miles away. I hated myself for arguing over a stupid jacket. Was it really worth it? Arguing with people who would never let me win? Why couldn't I just grin and bear it?
The hours dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. I was terrified and bored; I didn't dare put my headphones back on, so I listened. Every creak and groan of the cabin seemed to taunt me. My nerves were shot as I waited for something, anything, to happen. Was the caller all talk and no action, or would some maniac break down the front door in search of his lost Ophelia?
A dozen forevers later, I heard the family car pulling up outside. Relief made me feel weak, but I still managed to un-baracade myself from my room and meet them at the door. My family looked sunburnt and exhausted; when I hugged my father, he reeked of salt and sweat, but I didn't care one damn bit. "Looks like someone learned their lesson."
There was a long pause before he reluctantly hugged me back. My mother entered the cabin holding up the bag of fast food she had gotten for me. When my brother passed my field of vision, he gave me a smirk . I didn’t care. I didn't argue; I just didn't want to be alone and afraid anymore.
*
That night, as I scarfed down my burger, I told them about the creep on the phone. My mother was horrified and said I should have called the police; my brother rolled his eyes and said I should have just left the phone off the receiver, and my father told me next time, I should grab a steak knife before I went into hiding. That night, I couldn't sleep well. The sound of the ocean was louder than usual, making me feel restless.
The next morning my mother said she wanted us all to go to the beach as a family. My father agreed with a grunt. Leon asked if he could call his friends from a few days ago and have them meet us there. My parents were fine with that.As soon as my brother was off the phone, we grabbed our cooler, beach chairs, and towels. We walked the short distance to the shore. The ocean was just as beautiful before. Sunlight danced upon the waves, creating a breathtaking display of shimmering light. I wanted to stare but instead helped my family find a spot and set up our little beach camp. My brother Leon, ignoring our mother's protests that we had just arrived, went off in search of his friends. I told my parents I wanted to go for a swim, and my father told me to be careful. My mother looked me over and asked why I wasn't wearing the nice new bathing suit she had gotten for me. I didn't really want to go into the water in shorts and a T-shirt, did I?
I explained that I was wearing the pale pink one-piece bathing suit she had bought me- under my t-shirt and shorts. That led to an argument that was as gentle as it was relentless; my mother won out, and I stripped out of my shorts and t-shirt. My father scowled at me and looked away. The salty breeze whipped at my hair, and as I waded into the cold water. Slowly, I let myself sink into the sea, allowing my body to float on its surface. The vastness of the ocean made my insecurity and anger seem insignificatant.
Looking back to the beach, I saw Leon returning with a small group of new friends: two girls and two guys. They introduced themselves to my parents. Then they stripped out of their street clothes, revealing bathing suits beneath. One of the girls wore a swimsuit exactly like the one from the Christie Brinkley poster. My father did not look away from her. An incoming wave lifted me up and dropped me back down again. When I looked back, they were running into the surf, laughing and splashing each other."
There was no way I wanted to share my part of the ocean with them. So I picked a direction and started to swim, my limbs moving with practiced ease. I had always been a good swimmer, but everything changed when I turned twelve and started to gain weight. Despite being an athletic kid, I began overeating in seventh grade. Our house had always been full of snacks, but suddenly, I couldn’t keep my hands off them. I don’t know what changed, but everyone else seemed to have an opinion about it and each one was worse than the last.
Mindful of the riptides, I kept the beach to my left as I swam. I saw volleyball players, solitary people reading, women sunbathing, children playing, strangers all of them but I knew if they saw me they would snicker and make snide remarks.
After a while, longer than I expected, my muscles began to ache, and fatigue set in. It was time to return to land and rest. Maybe I would walk back or maybe just sit on the sand for a while. In the distance, I noticed a formation of rocks jutting out from the water's surface. It was wide enough for three people to walk along and stretched all the way back to the beach. As I swam closer, I saw it rose about five feet above the waves. The closer I got, the rougher the ocean became, pushing me towards the rocks. I struggled to maintain control, but the relentless waves made keeping my head above water difficult. Salt water filled my mouth, and I collided with the ugly crag with bruising force.
I floated there for a few minutes, clinging to the rock formation. Finding a sturdy handhold, I began to climb, my tired muscles groaning with effort. Finally, I pushed myself up and lay flat on my back, staring at the sky and the gulls. I concentrated on nothing more than catching my breath.
What would have happened if I had drowned? If the angry tide had smashed me against the rocks with fatal force? Would my family even care? Or would they be relieved? Would they make jokes as they searched for a Plus-Size coffin?
I shut my eyes tightly and kept them closed until I heard a splashing noise nearby. Then, I sat upright and let my feet dangle over the edge of the rocky outcrop. The water was further below now, and I couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed while I lay there, blind to the world.
There was another splashing sound, and then her body broke the surface of the water below me; I hadn't seen anyone swimming there. Her hair was dark, and her face belonged on the cover of a beauty magazine. She was wearing nothing but a white blouse that was two sizes too large for her. The wet fabric revealed a body like something out of Leon's wet dreams. I wanted to grab one of the loose rocks nearby and drop it on her.
She scaled the jagged rocks with the fluid grace of a seal emerging from the water. Our eyes met, and she flashed a smile. "I didn't see you up there.” Dark hair clung to her skin, droplets of water trailing down her face. “I hope I'm not bothering you.”
I shrugged. "It's a free country." Then, with a hint of sarcasm, I added, "Couldn't afford a swimsuit?”
Her smile turned playful. "I have everything I need."
"I bet you do." The bitterness in my voice surprised me, and a twinge of guilt followed. What had she ever done to deserve that? Attempting to recover, I asked, "Uhm, do you like the beach?”
"I love the ocean," she fiddled with the wet fabric covering her torso, pulling it away from her skin only to have it settle back into place just as translucent as before. I got a strange feeling she was doing it for my benefit. "Unknowable, Uncontrollable. And deeper than any of us could imagine."
"That's pretty poetic."
"You have such serious eyes," She said. "Tell me your name."
I did. Then she moved closer, her face even with mine. Her smile became strange. She leaned in close, I thought she was going to say something, perhaps share a secret, but instead, she kissed me. Electric shocks ran through me. I felt numb. I felt sick. I felt warm all over.
The kiss broke. "Who are you?" I breathed.
Before she dove off the rock pier, she uttered just one word: "Ophelia." The name caught me off guard. I was still in shock from our kiss and didn't even hear the splash when she hit the water.
Scrambling drunkenly to my feet I raced back to my parents, the hot sand of the beach burning my feet, the taste of seawater heavy in my mouth, the cool breeze wafting off the ocean making me shiver. Or maybe it was something else making me shiver. I found my family packing up; my mother asked where I had been, and my father demanded to know what I had been up to. I made an excuse about riptides and losing track of where I was, and they believed it. All the while, Leon and his friends watched me and shared conspiratorial grins. On the walk back to the cabin, the girl in the Christie Brinkley swimsuit said, "Your brother told us all about you."
I was about to say something sarcastic when one of the guys said, “Why are you wearing lipstick?"
That stopped me dead in my tracks. I realized the taste in my mouth that I had taken to be seawater was something else. When I touched my lips with my fingers they came back stained red. When had I bitten my lip?
*
A noise outside the cabin startled me awake. I went to my cracked bedroom window and peered out into the darkness. I didn’t know how late at night it was but sunrise must have been hours away. The noise was like whispering; it wasn’t just one voice but several. Yet, even as that thought occurred, uncertainty crept in—were they really voices? Somehow, I just wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was that, somehow, the sounds were familiar to me, like something out of a dream.
I needed to know what it was. So I quickly threw on the clothes I had worn the day before and quietly made my way to the front door, careful not to wake anyone else in the cabin. There were no stars or moon, just the shadowy outline of low-hanging clouds. As I stepped onto the porch I nearly stumbled over the empty cooler that had been left behind by my parents. There was a sickening moment when I thought I was going to fall flat on my face, but I caught myself on the railing.
The air was warm and thick. Without thinking, I stepped off the porch and began to follow the sound of the whispers that were not whispers. My steps were cautious and shuffling as I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Gradually, I realized I was making my way along the familiar path to the beach.
The ocean was a mirror of the starless sky; I knew it was there only by the salty breeze and the rumbling crash of the waves. The sound of waves was so loud that it drowned out the whispers, but they were still there. I closed my eyes, trading one darkness for another, and tried to orient myself to the sound. I was sure it was somewhere to the east, but before I could follow it, I heard a familiar voice. It was the stranger from the phone, "Ophelia!"
My heart began to pound in my chest; sick with fear, I spun in place, looking for him, but I might as well have had my eyes closed.
"Ophelia!"
A figure emerged from the blackness, the outline of a man shuffling along the shore. His shoulders were hunched. I could imagine the tears running down his face, the gaunt face looking far older than the body that carried it. “You said you’d be here,” he said, his voice fading into the sound of the ocean, “You promised.”
Certain he believed he was alone, I began to back away slowly. I didn't dare run. With every step, I feared he would notice me and, despite my very different shape, mistake me for Ophelia. What was it I'd heard my father say to Leon? Something about every woman being the same in the dark.
The not-quite whispers were closer now. I followed the sound until I found myself where the rocky outcropping that had nearly killed me met the beach.
Fear and curiosity drove me to make my way along the ugly crag; water lapped at my feet, numbing them almost immediately. More, by instinct than anything else, I stopped at the edge of the outcrop. The waves were knee-level now, splashing against me relentlessly, trying to push me back. There was inky blackness all around me.
The whispering chorus stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. Impossibily the sound of the waves also vanished and I stood there unmoving, unseeing and unhearing. It made me remember that when I was a little girl, this is what I had imagined being dead felt like.
"I found you!" The sound of the stranger's voice jolted me. He was close behind me, a fast-approaching shadow. Panicked, I ran blindly and blundered over the side of the rock formation into the dark water.
Cold oblivion consumed me.*
I regained consciousness in a cave lit by unseen candles. Strange symbols adorned the walls, and the air was heavy with the scent of saltwater and decay. As my vision adjusted, I saw slender, ethereal shapes moving in the shadows, tending to something—an ugly silhouette that thrashed and gurgled.
A familiar figure loomed over me. Wet, dark hair and sea-blue eyes filled my vision. Her hand stroked my face, gentle yet firm. "Ophelia," I said.
"You've been asleep for so long." She propped my head up, bringing a clamshell to my lips. The water was salty and stung, but before I could protest, I realized I was naked. My clothes lay spread across the rock floor, slowly drying.
Humiliated, I curled into a ball, trying to cover myself. "Don't look at me!" I whispered.
Ophelia grabbed my wrists and pulled me into a sitting position. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." She was naked, too, her skin gleaming as though she had just left the water. "None of us do."
My heart raced, on the verge of tears. "Where am I?"
"Among friends." She drew me close.
I glanced at the feminine shapes lingering in the shadows; they had drawn closer to the figure at their feet. A sound reminiscent of a fish being scaled echoed in the cave, followed by a familiar sob. It was the man from the phone.
"Who are they?" my voice was barely above a whisper.
"Ophelia"
"I thought you were-” I began.
"We are all Ophelias," she said, her expression darkening, "Born to be martyrs in men's eyes."
I said, "I don't understand."
Ophelia’s mouth became an angry frown, ”We can be daughters, lovers, even angels, but we can never be free from that hateful thing they pretend is love.”
I asked, “Why did you bring me here?”
“Why don’t you stay?”
"You don't even know my name." I breathed, “You don’t know who I am?”
"Do you?" She said with a kiss. She pushed me down onto my back. As her lips moved across my skin, each kiss felt like a cold drop of winter rain. Dizziness washed over me. It was like I was on an elevator that wouldn't stop going up. “Who do you want to be? Are you who others say you are?"
Ophelia started running her nails hard across my chest and belly. I wanted to escape. I never wanted to leave. It was like she was taking me, making me hers. Blood welled up from the cuts and scrapes. She kissed the wounds she had made, one by one, her lips smearing red. The cave was filled with whispered songs that had no words. Her murmuring joined them.
When it was over she held me close.
“I love you,” the voice of the man from the phone said. He sounded like he was drowning, “Isn’t that enough?” He coughed twice and then fell silent.
The candles began to go out one by one, and shadows began to swallow her, trying to snatch her away from me. I kissed her hard on the mouth, losing myself in her. In a matter of seconds, I was lost in darkness.
* It was late in the morning when I awoke. I was lying flat on my back on the crag. The clouds above were a stormy purple, and the rain was coming down hard. I was soaking wet, and my clothes were plastered to my skin. I heard a familiar voice calling my name, but it wasn't one I wanted to hear. I moaned, half with exhaustion, half with anguish. My skin still ached and tingled in the places Ophelia had clawed at me.
With trembling hands, I crawled to the ledge and looked down. The tide had gone out. Fifteen feet below me, Leon was trudging along the surf, wet and miserable, and shouting my name.
"Leon?" I called out. For a hilarious moment, he was utterly bewildered, his square head swiveling back and forth. I called again, "Up here!”
When he finally saw me, he started screaming, "You are in big trouble! Dad is seriously pissed!”
"I just went for a walk.”
"A walk? You've been gone for over a day!" Leon blundered closer until he was directly below me. I could have spit on him if I wanted to.
I scowled down at him, remembering all the times he had disappeared for an entire weekend without a single phone call, only to return to a gentle reprimand from our father instead of a harsh scolding and a slap to the back of the head. I used one of his excuses, "I was with friends."
The expression on his face twisted as if he were looking at something disgusting. "Delores told me she saw you here last night!"
Bile rose up in my throat. "So what?”
"She saw what you were doing! Are you crazy? Why can't you just be normal? What is wrong with—"
A stone the size of a bowling ball crashed down on Leon, crushing his skull. He collapsed face down into the surf, blood clouding the seawater.
I scrambled to my feet to find Ophelia standing near me. "You killed him," I said.
The waves greedily pulled at Leon's body, twisting and bending it like a rag doll only to push it back up the sand again.
I know I should have felt something, but I didn’t. “What am I going to do?’"I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of the rain and the racing of my own thoughts.
“What do you want to do?”
"I want to be with you." The rain pelted us. It was getting cold and dark, but it didn't matter. I felt safe in her arms., "I want to be with you forever."
"Then be with us," she said.
"What about Leon?"
Ophelia chuckled coldly. ”What about him?"
"But the police will find out," I said.
She released me and stepped to the edge of the crag, "In the deep dark," She said, "We are free from judgment."
The downpour had become torrential. Ophelia's words caused me to gaze longingly at the ocean. Each wave crashed against the shore with a powerful roar, sending spray and mist into the air.
She kissed my forehead.
There were no second thoughts, no worries. I turned and started walking back to the cabin. After a few minutes, I turned back to look for Ophelia. Through the storm, I saw four hazy but unmistakably masculine figures standing by Leon's body. Moving clumsily, they lifted his limp form and carried it into the sea.
*
From the moment I stepped into the cabin my father started screaming at me, my mother was silent and glared reporachfully. The stinging sensation of my scratches was intensifying to the point of almost being pleasurable.
Turning away from them, I walked calmly to the kitchenette. Their voices seemed distant as if echoing from the base of a rocky cliff during low tide. Steady-handed, I reached into the kitchen drawer and retrieved a steak knife. My father's insult rang out. "Oh, Jesus Christ! She's going to make a sandwich!"
Ignoring him was easy. Everything he said was familiar. I waited until his temper broke, and he all but ran at me. He violently grabbed my shoulder, yanking me around to face him.
The knife was dull, but my strength proved more than sufficient to slice open his throat. Blood splattered across both our faces. His scream was gurgling and wet, his mouth gaping like a fish. He stumbled backward, clutching at his neck, tripped over his own feet, and collapsed. I stood there, watching as my father spent the final moments of his life weeping.
When it was over, I looked to my mother. She had been standing by watching, just like always. "Angela, please," she cowered at my approach.
I raised the bloody knife above my head, "That's not my name."
*
There was enough kerosene left in the cabin's rusty heater, to start a good fire. I watched the structure burn for a little while. I felt nothing; I hadn't felt anything at all since I left Ophelia's arms. When I was finished I headed for the shore.
And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.
But Ophelia said she'd be here.
She promised.
The tingling under my skin was painful. I ripped at my clothes and tore madly at the scabs. They broke open easily. The flesh beneath them was unblemished and gleaming.
I waded out into the cold, crashing water, leaving my shirt, shorts, and long red strips of my flesh behind. In the unknowable depths, I would never be a daughter, a punchline, or a scapegoat. I would be free.
With each footstep, the roar of the waves changed, becoming softer and prayer-like. It sounded like a chorus of voices calling out the name "Ophelia."
Voices so very much like mine.

DOWN BY THE WATER BY AL BRUNO III
And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.
But Ophelia said she'd be here.
She promised.
*
It had taken four hours of driving to reach Cape Cod. It was me, my mother and father, and my brother Leon, who was a year and a half older than me, the darling daughter. Ordinarily, my father celebrated his son's victories with men-only trips to New York City or Lake George. But since his beloved all-star was heading off to college in the fall, he decided it would be a family affair.
No matter how much I'd tried to weasel out of it, father still made me go. It wasn't because they were worried about me getting into some kind of trouble; it was simply an unspoken rule in the Sweet family that I never got what I wanted.
An hour into the trip, Leon started ragging on me, making snide remarks about my grades, my waistline, and my therapist, then waving his scholarship under my nose. I ignored it for as long as I could, but my Walkman's batteries died as we passed through Sturbridge, Massachusetts, so I decided that would be the perfect time to bring up his DUI. All Hell broke loose in the car; it got so bad that we had to pull over so my father could tell me in no uncertain terms that I was seventeen and I needed to grow up and get my head on straight.
As always, mother tried to be the peacemaker and failed miserably.
The rest of the car ride was icily quiet, except for the music on the radio, but father started to perk up as he got closer to the cabin. He was so proud of the deal he'd gotten.
We turned left on a street called Patti Page Way onto a long dirt driveway. Once we reached the cabin, we understood it hadn't been a deal at all; it had been a robbery. The outside of the cabin was a wreck, with peeling paint, a sagging porch, and a crooked hanging bench. Tiles were missing from the red roof, and the windows were cracked and covered in grime.
It looked like it should have been condemned, not rented out. My mother and I said we should double back and find a hotel, but my father, of course, would have none of it. "It's already paid for! Non-refundable! You're not even giving it a chance. Let's look inside."
The inside of the cabin wasn't nearly as bad, but it was obvious it hadn't been cleaned in a while. There was a layer of dust on the worn-out furniture, and cobwebs adorned the corners of the room. My mother went to the bedrooms to check for bedbugs or worse and returned with a nod of reluctant approval.
"See?" my father said, "It's not so bad, and besides, after you girls clean it up a little..."
"Us girls?" I dropped my bags on the floor. "I thought this was a family vacation."
Leon rolled his eyes, and my father looked ready to turn purple. mother tried to get in the middle, "What she meant was that we didn't come all this way just-"
"Oh, I know what she meant all right." My father looked right over mother and glared at me. I could feel the 'I work all day speech' coming.
He said, ”I work all day so you and your Goddamn mother can have nice things, and all you give me is grief."
"It's not fair," I said.
"Honey, maybe if we worked together..." mother began, but she stopped talking when my father's glare turned her way.
With that, Leon and my father announced they were going to the store to get pizza and beer. But of course, my father couldn't leave without one last barb at me, "Besides, a little work might help you slim down a little."
Leon laughed. ”You hear that Chubbs?”
Face contorted with rage, I stormed out of that rat-hole cabin, shouting, "That's not my name!" If anyone called out after me, I didn't hear. I ran to the beach, determined not to let them see me cry.
I'd never seen the ocean, except for movies and TV. It was huge, stretching across the horizon. Looking at it made me feel small, but I didn't mind. My science teacher had told me that the oceans were the first things the Earth created. They would probably be the last things to go.There were big ugly seagulls everywhere and tiny, nervous-looking birds that divided most of their time between sifting in the mud and running in terror at the slightest motion. Small shells cracked under my feet. Slipping off my shoes, I waded into the surf, feeling the waves brushing against and around my legs.
As I waded through the water, I saw my reflection. For as long as I can remember, I've despised what I saw staring back at me. My weight, the constant burden I carried, distorted my image, making me appear older than my years. I had battled with it for as long as I could remember, dieting on and off since I was eight years old, yet nothing seemed to make a difference. Two years ago, someone mistook me for Leon's mother, and that was the moment I mostly gave up trying to change. Still, despite my aversion, I could not look away as I watched how the ripples in the water pulled me apart and pieced me back together again.
It was like I was hypnotized. I walked along the water's edge, not glancing up until distant voices startled me. That's when I realized it was twilight, and the ocean had turned a bruised purple color.
When I got back to the cabin, I found my mother nearly in tears, "Where were you? We were worried sick! We almost called the police."
"I'm sorry," I said.
Leon and my father were sitting at the rickety table, a plate of chicken bones in front of each of them. My father stood up and approached me. His breath was sour, and there were shreds of chicken in his teeth. "Are you trying to ruin this vacation?"
"Look, I just-"
"You're miserable and ungrateful, and I won't stand for it," He poked me in the chest, just hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to leave a mark, "You are gonna shape up and fly right? Do you hear me?"
Leon rolled his eyes, "Oh, like she'll ever get in shape."
mother hushed him but let my father continue his performance. He said, "I didn't bring you up here so you could screw around and do whatever you want to do! We are here to vacation as a family!"
"I'm..." the words stung my mouth, "I'm sorry."
He smiled with satisfaction and gestured to the table, "I didn't like the looks of the pizza place, so we got some Kentucky Fried Chicken. I got you a large meal."
He turned to go outside and have a smoke, Leon tagged along after him. mother busied herself cleaning up while I ate all the food my father had brought, hating myself with every bite.
*
Despite being warned we were going on a deep-sea fishing trip, no one was ready for my father shouting and bullying us all awake more than an hour before sunrise. My mother was barely awake, but he was already ordering her and me to make breakfast. I didn't mind helping, but I did mind that Leon didn't have to lift a finger.
One sloppily made breakfast later, we were in the car making our way to the marina. Leon was in the front seat listening to my father's stories about the deep sea fishing expeditions he had gone on as a single man in the Navy. My mother’s gaze shifted down to her lap when he said those had been the best days of his life.
Leon asked about the ship, and my father began to explain the difference between a regular yacht and a sport fishing yacht but suddenly I realized something.
"Dad, we have to go back," I said, "I forgot my jacket."
"So?" He said.
"You said it would be freezing."
"And I said not to forget anything." he shrugged. He actually picked up speed as he maneuvered the car onto the interstate. Ten years ago, he'd told me I was his princess and he would do anything for me.
My mother piped up, "It's not such a bother, is it? We don't want her to catch cold."
"No."
"That's all right," she patted my arm, "We'll just buy you a jacket when we get to the marina. They must have a gift shop around there."
"We are not buying her a goddamn thing," my father said.
"Good thing she's got all that blubber to protect her," Leon said in a stage whisper.
"Ginny, Let me handle this," my father said. "Maybe she wouldn't be such a brat if she had to deal with some consequences once in a while."
"Oh," I said, "like your son had to deal with his consequences? How much did you spend to keep him out of jail?"
The answer was a lot. My father had moved Heaven and Earth to protect Leon and his 'promising future.' It had hurt our family financially and socially, and he had forbidden any of us to talk about it. But at moments like this, I was glad to bring it up; it felt good to remind them that the Boy Wonder had feet of clay.
"God damn it!" He pounded his fist on the steering wheel, "Can you not be a bitch for five minutes?"
"I don't know," My reply was lightning fast, so fast that I didn't realize the words had come from my mouth, "Can you not be a bastard?"
The brakes squealed as my father swerved us onto the shoulder. My mother gasped, and my brother snickered; a line had been crossed, but so many lines had been crossed over the last few years. I barely cared anymore. All I could think to myself was how we used to be a family. What happened to us?
He unbuckled himself and turned around in his seat, "You think you can talk to me like that? All this over a damn coat."
"Yes." I said, "Over a coat!"
"That's it." He said, and I flinched instinctively, "You're grounded."
"Grounded?"
We sped back to the cabin, and with every twist and turn of the wheel, my mother and brother grew more and more worried that my father was going to send us plowing into a tree or a ditch.
Finally, we arrived back at the cabin, and my father slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Without a word, he shifted into park and turned off the engine. We all sat there in silence, waiting for his next move.
My father turned to face me, "Get out.” He pointed towards the cabin's front door. "Go to your room and stay there until we get back."
I started to speak, but my mother shushed me, "Just do what he says. Please don't make any more trouble."
"We're gonna be late," Leon said.
I sighed and stepped out of the car onto the dusty gravel driveway. My family drove away. They left me behind. The sound of their departure echoed in my ears. I trudged up to the front door, wondering if any of them had spared me a backward glance.
When I was alone in the cabin, I did not go straight to my room; I plopped down on the couch. I had been looking forward to today; I had been so excited at the thought of being out on the ocean so far out on the ocean, that the shore would be just a memory. I had been so excited that I had forgotten my jacket. Now I could see it across the room, slung over the arm of the recliner. The sight of it made me bury my face in my hands. I stayed that way for a long time. Then I went to my temporary bedroom like a good girl and hated myself for it.
With nothing else to do, I napped and listened to my Walkman going through every one of the Police's albums, from Outlandos d'Amour to Synchronicity.
It was just a little while after lunch when the calls began. I answered immediately, thinking it was my parents checking up on me somehow. "Hello?"
I heard a man’s voice ask, "Is she there?” He was weeping. "Who is this?" I asked.
"Who is this?"
"I think you have the wrong number," I said.
“Ophelia is it you?"
I hung up the phone with a grimace, imagining some idiot with a fake number from a bimbo who'd flashed them a polite smile at first or some fake affection at best. Better them than me. I started to go back to my room when the phone rang again. I waited for whoever was on the other line to give up. Ten rings later, I answered. "Hello?"
"Ophelia?" They blubbered.
"That's not my name," I said, "Please stop calling."
"You sound like her."
“I’m not her. I’m nobody.”
The voice became even more desperate and pleading, "I've waited for so long."
I put the receiver back down again.
They called back almost instantly; this time I let the phone ring, put on my Walkman, and cranked the volume all the way up. I tried to let the music transport me to a place far away from the cabin, from that phone call, from my family. ‘Message In A Bottle’ filled my ears and I imagined myself somewhere far far away.
But the ringing persisted. I heard it going on and on in the silence between one song and another. It made me feel uneasy with questions. Finally, inevitably, I ripped off the earphones and picked up the phone again. "Look, I told you already, you have the wrong number," I said.
“I did everything you asked.” The voice on the other end of the line trembled, “I’ve been waiting for so long."
"Please." I pleaded, “stop bothering me."
"I need to see you." He said, "I'm coming to see you now."
"You don't even know-"
"328 Patti Page Way." The stranger started weeping again, "Don't you remember? We walked from the cabin to the beach and held hands at the promontory."
My stomach dropped. I quickly ended the call and retreated back to my room. After a few panicked moments, I put the chair in front of the door. How did they know where I was? I envisioned a local Romeo bewitched by a visiting Juliet. Now Juliet was long gone and Romeo was heartbroken. And where did that leave me?
Alone and defenseless with my family miles away. I hated myself for arguing over a stupid jacket. Was it really worth it? Arguing with people who would never let me win? Why couldn't I just grin and bear it?
The hours dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. I was terrified and bored; I didn't dare put my headphones back on, so I listened. Every creak and groan of the cabin seemed to taunt me. My nerves were shot as I waited for something, anything, to happen. Was the caller all talk and no action, or would some maniac break down the front door in search of his lost Ophelia?
A dozen forevers later, I heard the family car pulling up outside. Relief made me feel weak, but I still managed to un-baracade myself from my room and meet them at the door. My family looked sunburnt and exhausted; when I hugged my father, he reeked of salt and sweat, but I didn't care one damn bit. "Looks like someone learned their lesson."
There was a long pause before he reluctantly hugged me back. My mother entered the cabin holding up the bag of fast food she had gotten for me. When my brother passed my field of vision, he gave me a smirk . I didn’t care. I didn't argue; I just didn't want to be alone and afraid anymore.
*
That night, as I scarfed down my burger, I told them about the creep on the phone. My mother was horrified and said I should have called the police; my brother rolled his eyes and said I should have just left the phone off the receiver, and my father told me next time, I should grab a steak knife before I went into hiding. That night, I couldn't sleep well. The sound of the ocean was louder than usual, making me feel restless.
The next morning my mother said she wanted us all to go to the beach as a family. My father agreed with a grunt. Leon asked if he could call his friends from a few days ago and have them meet us there. My parents were fine with that.As soon as my brother was off the phone, we grabbed our cooler, beach chairs, and towels. We walked the short distance to the shore. The ocean was just as beautiful before. Sunlight danced upon the waves, creating a breathtaking display of shimmering light. I wanted to stare but instead helped my family find a spot and set up our little beach camp. My brother Leon, ignoring our mother's protests that we had just arrived, went off in search of his friends. I told my parents I wanted to go for a swim, and my father told me to be careful. My mother looked me over and asked why I wasn't wearing the nice new bathing suit she had gotten for me. I didn't really want to go into the water in shorts and a T-shirt, did I?
I explained that I was wearing the pale pink one-piece bathing suit she had bought me- under my t-shirt and shorts. That led to an argument that was as gentle as it was relentless; my mother won out, and I stripped out of my shorts and t-shirt. My father scowled at me and looked away. The salty breeze whipped at my hair, and as I waded into the cold water. Slowly, I let myself sink into the sea, allowing my body to float on its surface. The vastness of the ocean made my insecurity and anger seem insignificatant.
Looking back to the beach, I saw Leon returning with a small group of new friends: two girls and two guys. They introduced themselves to my parents. Then they stripped out of their street clothes, revealing bathing suits beneath. One of the girls wore a swimsuit exactly like the one from the Christie Brinkley poster. My father did not look away from her. An incoming wave lifted me up and dropped me back down again. When I looked back, they were running into the surf, laughing and splashing each other."
There was no way I wanted to share my part of the ocean with them. So I picked a direction and started to swim, my limbs moving with practiced ease. I had always been a good swimmer, but everything changed when I turned twelve and started to gain weight. Despite being an athletic kid, I began overeating in seventh grade. Our house had always been full of snacks, but suddenly, I couldn’t keep my hands off them. I don’t know what changed, but everyone else seemed to have an opinion about it and each one was worse than the last.
Mindful of the riptides, I kept the beach to my left as I swam. I saw volleyball players, solitary people reading, women sunbathing, children playing, strangers all of them but I knew if they saw me they would snicker and make snide remarks.
After a while, longer than I expected, my muscles began to ache, and fatigue set in. It was time to return to land and rest. Maybe I would walk back or maybe just sit on the sand for a while. In the distance, I noticed a formation of rocks jutting out from the water's surface. It was wide enough for three people to walk along and stretched all the way back to the beach. As I swam closer, I saw it rose about five feet above the waves. The closer I got, the rougher the ocean became, pushing me towards the rocks. I struggled to maintain control, but the relentless waves made keeping my head above water difficult. Salt water filled my mouth, and I collided with the ugly crag with bruising force.
I floated there for a few minutes, clinging to the rock formation. Finding a sturdy handhold, I began to climb, my tired muscles groaning with effort. Finally, I pushed myself up and lay flat on my back, staring at the sky and the gulls. I concentrated on nothing more than catching my breath.
What would have happened if I had drowned? If the angry tide had smashed me against the rocks with fatal force? Would my family even care? Or would they be relieved? Would they make jokes as they searched for a Plus-Size coffin?
I shut my eyes tightly and kept them closed until I heard a splashing noise nearby. Then, I sat upright and let my feet dangle over the edge of the rocky outcrop. The water was further below now, and I couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed while I lay there, blind to the world.
There was another splashing sound, and then her body broke the surface of the water below me; I hadn't seen anyone swimming there. Her hair was dark, and her face belonged on the cover of a beauty magazine. She was wearing nothing but a white blouse that was two sizes too large for her. The wet fabric revealed a body like something out of Leon's wet dreams. I wanted to grab one of the loose rocks nearby and drop it on her.
She scaled the jagged rocks with the fluid grace of a seal emerging from the water. Our eyes met, and she flashed a smile. "I didn't see you up there.” Dark hair clung to her skin, droplets of water trailing down her face. “I hope I'm not bothering you.”
I shrugged. "It's a free country." Then, with a hint of sarcasm, I added, "Couldn't afford a swimsuit?”
Her smile turned playful. "I have everything I need."
"I bet you do." The bitterness in my voice surprised me, and a twinge of guilt followed. What had she ever done to deserve that? Attempting to recover, I asked, "Uhm, do you like the beach?”
"I love the ocean," she fiddled with the wet fabric covering her torso, pulling it away from her skin only to have it settle back into place just as translucent as before. I got a strange feeling she was doing it for my benefit. "Unknowable, Uncontrollable. And deeper than any of us could imagine."
"That's pretty poetic."
"You have such serious eyes," She said. "Tell me your name."
I did. Then she moved closer, her face even with mine. Her smile became strange. She leaned in close, I thought she was going to say something, perhaps share a secret, but instead, she kissed me. Electric shocks ran through me. I felt numb. I felt sick. I felt warm all over.
The kiss broke. "Who are you?" I breathed.
Before she dove off the rock pier, she uttered just one word: "Ophelia." The name caught me off guard. I was still in shock from our kiss and didn't even hear the splash when she hit the water.
Scrambling drunkenly to my feet I raced back to my parents, the hot sand of the beach burning my feet, the taste of seawater heavy in my mouth, the cool breeze wafting off the ocean making me shiver. Or maybe it was something else making me shiver. I found my family packing up; my mother asked where I had been, and my father demanded to know what I had been up to. I made an excuse about riptides and losing track of where I was, and they believed it. All the while, Leon and his friends watched me and shared conspiratorial grins. On the walk back to the cabin, the girl in the Christie Brinkley swimsuit said, "Your brother told us all about you."
I was about to say something sarcastic when one of the guys said, “Why are you wearing lipstick?"
That stopped me dead in my tracks. I realized the taste in my mouth that I had taken to be seawater was something else. When I touched my lips with my fingers they came back stained red. When had I bitten my lip?
*
A noise outside the cabin startled me awake. I went to my cracked bedroom window and peered out into the darkness. I didn’t know how late at night it was but sunrise must have been hours away. The noise was like whispering; it wasn’t just one voice but several. Yet, even as that thought occurred, uncertainty crept in—were they really voices? Somehow, I just wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was that, somehow, the sounds were familiar to me, like something out of a dream.
I needed to know what it was. So I quickly threw on the clothes I had worn the day before and quietly made my way to the front door, careful not to wake anyone else in the cabin. There were no stars or moon, just the shadowy outline of low-hanging clouds. As I stepped onto the porch I nearly stumbled over the empty cooler that had been left behind by my parents. There was a sickening moment when I thought I was going to fall flat on my face, but I caught myself on the railing.
The air was warm and thick. Without thinking, I stepped off the porch and began to follow the sound of the whispers that were not whispers. My steps were cautious and shuffling as I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Gradually, I realized I was making my way along the familiar path to the beach.
The ocean was a mirror of the starless sky; I knew it was there only by the salty breeze and the rumbling crash of the waves. The sound of waves was so loud that it drowned out the whispers, but they were still there. I closed my eyes, trading one darkness for another, and tried to orient myself to the sound. I was sure it was somewhere to the east, but before I could follow it, I heard a familiar voice. It was the stranger from the phone, "Ophelia!"
My heart began to pound in my chest; sick with fear, I spun in place, looking for him, but I might as well have had my eyes closed.
"Ophelia!"
A figure emerged from the blackness, the outline of a man shuffling along the shore. His shoulders were hunched. I could imagine the tears running down his face, the gaunt face looking far older than the body that carried it. “You said you’d be here,” he said, his voice fading into the sound of the ocean, “You promised.”
Certain he believed he was alone, I began to back away slowly. I didn't dare run. With every step, I feared he would notice me and, despite my very different shape, mistake me for Ophelia. What was it I'd heard my father say to Leon? Something about every woman being the same in the dark.
The not-quite whispers were closer now. I followed the sound until I found myself where the rocky outcropping that had nearly killed me met the beach.
Fear and curiosity drove me to make my way along the ugly crag; water lapped at my feet, numbing them almost immediately. More, by instinct than anything else, I stopped at the edge of the outcrop. The waves were knee-level now, splashing against me relentlessly, trying to push me back. There was inky blackness all around me.
The whispering chorus stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. Impossibily the sound of the waves also vanished and I stood there unmoving, unseeing and unhearing. It made me remember that when I was a little girl, this is what I had imagined being dead felt like.
"I found you!" The sound of the stranger's voice jolted me. He was close behind me, a fast-approaching shadow. Panicked, I ran blindly and blundered over the side of the rock formation into the dark water.
Cold oblivion consumed me.*
I regained consciousness in a cave lit by unseen candles. Strange symbols adorned the walls, and the air was heavy with the scent of saltwater and decay. As my vision adjusted, I saw slender, ethereal shapes moving in the shadows, tending to something—an ugly silhouette that thrashed and gurgled.
A familiar figure loomed over me. Wet, dark hair and sea-blue eyes filled my vision. Her hand stroked my face, gentle yet firm. "Ophelia," I said.
"You've been asleep for so long." She propped my head up, bringing a clamshell to my lips. The water was salty and stung, but before I could protest, I realized I was naked. My clothes lay spread across the rock floor, slowly drying.
Humiliated, I curled into a ball, trying to cover myself. "Don't look at me!" I whispered.
Ophelia grabbed my wrists and pulled me into a sitting position. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." She was naked, too, her skin gleaming as though she had just left the water. "None of us do."
My heart raced, on the verge of tears. "Where am I?"
"Among friends." She drew me close.
I glanced at the feminine shapes lingering in the shadows; they had drawn closer to the figure at their feet. A sound reminiscent of a fish being scaled echoed in the cave, followed by a familiar sob. It was the man from the phone.
"Who are they?" my voice was barely above a whisper.
"Ophelia"
"I thought you were-” I began.
"We are all Ophelias," she said, her expression darkening, "Born to be martyrs in men's eyes."
I said, "I don't understand."
Ophelia’s mouth became an angry frown, ”We can be daughters, lovers, even angels, but we can never be free from that hateful thing they pretend is love.”
I asked, “Why did you bring me here?”
“Why don’t you stay?”
"You don't even know my name." I breathed, “You don’t know who I am?”
"Do you?" She said with a kiss. She pushed me down onto my back. As her lips moved across my skin, each kiss felt like a cold drop of winter rain. Dizziness washed over me. It was like I was on an elevator that wouldn't stop going up. “Who do you want to be? Are you who others say you are?"
Ophelia started running her nails hard across my chest and belly. I wanted to escape. I never wanted to leave. It was like she was taking me, making me hers. Blood welled up from the cuts and scrapes. She kissed the wounds she had made, one by one, her lips smearing red. The cave was filled with whispered songs that had no words. Her murmuring joined them.
When it was over she held me close.
“I love you,” the voice of the man from the phone said. He sounded like he was drowning, “Isn’t that enough?” He coughed twice and then fell silent.
The candles began to go out one by one, and shadows began to swallow her, trying to snatch her away from me. I kissed her hard on the mouth, losing myself in her. In a matter of seconds, I was lost in darkness.
* It was late in the morning when I awoke. I was lying flat on my back on the crag. The clouds above were a stormy purple, and the rain was coming down hard. I was soaking wet, and my clothes were plastered to my skin. I heard a familiar voice calling my name, but it wasn't one I wanted to hear. I moaned, half with exhaustion, half with anguish. My skin still ached and tingled in the places Ophelia had clawed at me.
With trembling hands, I crawled to the ledge and looked down. The tide had gone out. Fifteen feet below me, Leon was trudging along the surf, wet and miserable, and shouting my name.
"Leon?" I called out. For a hilarious moment, he was utterly bewildered, his square head swiveling back and forth. I called again, "Up here!”
When he finally saw me, he started screaming, "You are in big trouble! Dad is seriously pissed!”
"I just went for a walk.”
"A walk? You've been gone for over a day!" Leon blundered closer until he was directly below me. I could have spit on him if I wanted to.
I scowled down at him, remembering all the times he had disappeared for an entire weekend without a single phone call, only to return to a gentle reprimand from our father instead of a harsh scolding and a slap to the back of the head. I used one of his excuses, "I was with friends."
The expression on his face twisted as if he were looking at something disgusting. "Delores told me she saw you here last night!"
Bile rose up in my throat. "So what?”
"She saw what you were doing! Are you crazy? Why can't you just be normal? What is wrong with—"
A stone the size of a bowling ball crashed down on Leon, crushing his skull. He collapsed face down into the surf, blood clouding the seawater.
I scrambled to my feet to find Ophelia standing near me. "You killed him," I said.
The waves greedily pulled at Leon's body, twisting and bending it like a rag doll only to push it back up the sand again.
I know I should have felt something, but I didn’t. “What am I going to do?’"I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of the rain and the racing of my own thoughts.
“What do you want to do?”
"I want to be with you." The rain pelted us. It was getting cold and dark, but it didn't matter. I felt safe in her arms., "I want to be with you forever."
"Then be with us," she said.
"What about Leon?"
Ophelia chuckled coldly. ”What about him?"
"But the police will find out," I said.
She released me and stepped to the edge of the crag, "In the deep dark," She said, "We are free from judgment."
The downpour had become torrential. Ophelia's words caused me to gaze longingly at the ocean. Each wave crashed against the shore with a powerful roar, sending spray and mist into the air.
She kissed my forehead.
There were no second thoughts, no worries. I turned and started walking back to the cabin. After a few minutes, I turned back to look for Ophelia. Through the storm, I saw four hazy but unmistakably masculine figures standing by Leon's body. Moving clumsily, they lifted his limp form and carried it into the sea.
*
From the moment I stepped into the cabin my father started screaming at me, my mother was silent and glared reporachfully. The stinging sensation of my scratches was intensifying to the point of almost being pleasurable.
Turning away from them, I walked calmly to the kitchenette. Their voices seemed distant as if echoing from the base of a rocky cliff during low tide. Steady-handed, I reached into the kitchen drawer and retrieved a steak knife. My father's insult rang out. "Oh, Jesus Christ! She's going to make a sandwich!"
Ignoring him was easy. Everything he said was familiar. I waited until his temper broke, and he all but ran at me. He violently grabbed my shoulder, yanking me around to face him.
The knife was dull, but my strength proved more than sufficient to slice open his throat. Blood splattered across both our faces. His scream was gurgling and wet, his mouth gaping like a fish. He stumbled backward, clutching at his neck, tripped over his own feet, and collapsed. I stood there, watching as my father spent the final moments of his life weeping.
When it was over, I looked to my mother. She had been standing by watching, just like always. "Angela, please," she cowered at my approach.
I raised the bloody knife above my head, "That's not my name."
*
There was enough kerosene left in the cabin's rusty heater, to start a good fire. I watched the structure burn for a little while. I felt nothing; I hadn't felt anything at all since I left Ophelia's arms. When I was finished I headed for the shore.
And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.
But Ophelia said she'd be here.
She promised.
The tingling under my skin was painful. I ripped at my clothes and tore madly at the scabs. They broke open easily. The flesh beneath them was unblemished and gleaming.
I waded out into the cold, crashing water, leaving my shirt, shorts, and long red strips of my flesh behind. In the unknowable depths, I would never be a daughter, a punchline, or a scapegoat. I would be free.
With each footstep, the roar of the waves changed, becoming softer and prayer-like. It sounded like a chorus of voices calling out the name "Ophelia."
Voices so very much like mine.

DOWN BY THE WATER BY AL BRUNO III
And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.
But Ophelia said she'd be here.
She promised.
*
It had taken four hours of driving to reach Cape Cod. It was me, my mother and father, and my brother Leon, who was a year and a half older than me, the darling daughter. Ordinarily, my father celebrated his son's victories with men-only trips to New York City or Lake George. But since his beloved all-star was heading off to college in the fall, he decided it would be a family affair.
No matter how much I'd tried to weasel out of it, father still made me go. It wasn't because they were worried about me getting into some kind of trouble; it was simply an unspoken rule in the Sweet family that I never got what I wanted.
An hour into the trip, Leon started ragging on me, making snide remarks about my grades, my waistline, and my therapist, then waving his scholarship under my nose. I ignored it for as long as I could, but my Walkman's batteries died as we passed through Sturbridge, Massachusetts, so I decided that would be the perfect time to bring up his DUI. All Hell broke loose in the car; it got so bad that we had to pull over so my father could tell me in no uncertain terms that I was seventeen and I needed to grow up and get my head on straight.
As always, mother tried to be the peacemaker and failed miserably.
The rest of the car ride was icily quiet, except for the music on the radio, but father started to perk up as he got closer to the cabin. He was so proud of the deal he'd gotten.
We turned left on a street called Patti Page Way onto a long dirt driveway. Once we reached the cabin, we understood it hadn't been a deal at all; it had been a robbery. The outside of the cabin was a wreck, with peeling paint, a sagging porch, and a crooked hanging bench. Tiles were missing from the red roof, and the windows were cracked and covered in grime.
It looked like it should have been condemned, not rented out. My mother and I said we should double back and find a hotel, but my father, of course, would have none of it. "It's already paid for! Non-refundable! You're not even giving it a chance. Let's look inside."
The inside of the cabin wasn't nearly as bad, but it was obvious it hadn't been cleaned in a while. There was a layer of dust on the worn-out furniture, and cobwebs adorned the corners of the room. My mother went to the bedrooms to check for bedbugs or worse and returned with a nod of reluctant approval.
"See?" my father said, "It's not so bad, and besides, after you girls clean it up a little..."
"Us girls?" I dropped my bags on the floor. "I thought this was a family vacation."
Leon rolled his eyes, and my father looked ready to turn purple. mother tried to get in the middle, "What she meant was that we didn't come all this way just-"
"Oh, I know what she meant all right." My father looked right over mother and glared at me. I could feel the 'I work all day speech' coming.
He said, ”I work all day so you and your Goddamn mother can have nice things, and all you give me is grief."
"It's not fair," I said.
"Honey, maybe if we worked together..." mother began, but she stopped talking when my father's glare turned her way.
With that, Leon and my father announced they were going to the store to get pizza and beer. But of course, my father couldn't leave without one last barb at me, "Besides, a little work might help you slim down a little."
Leon laughed. ”You hear that Chubbs?”
Face contorted with rage, I stormed out of that rat-hole cabin, shouting, "That's not my name!" If anyone called out after me, I didn't hear. I ran to the beach, determined not to let them see me cry.
I'd never seen the ocean, except for movies and TV. It was huge, stretching across the horizon. Looking at it made me feel small, but I didn't mind. My science teacher had told me that the oceans were the first things the Earth created. They would probably be the last things to go.There were big ugly seagulls everywhere and tiny, nervous-looking birds that divided most of their time between sifting in the mud and running in terror at the slightest motion. Small shells cracked under my feet. Slipping off my shoes, I waded into the surf, feeling the waves brushing against and around my legs.
As I waded through the water, I saw my reflection. For as long as I can remember, I've despised what I saw staring back at me. My weight, the constant burden I carried, distorted my image, making me appear older than my years. I had battled with it for as long as I could remember, dieting on and off since I was eight years old, yet nothing seemed to make a difference. Two years ago, someone mistook me for Leon's mother, and that was the moment I mostly gave up trying to change. Still, despite my aversion, I could not look away as I watched how the ripples in the water pulled me apart and pieced me back together again.
It was like I was hypnotized. I walked along the water's edge, not glancing up until distant voices startled me. That's when I realized it was twilight, and the ocean had turned a bruised purple color.
When I got back to the cabin, I found my mother nearly in tears, "Where were you? We were worried sick! We almost called the police."
"I'm sorry," I said.
Leon and my father were sitting at the rickety table, a plate of chicken bones in front of each of them. My father stood up and approached me. His breath was sour, and there were shreds of chicken in his teeth. "Are you trying to ruin this vacation?"
"Look, I just-"
"You're miserable and ungrateful, and I won't stand for it," He poked me in the chest, just hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to leave a mark, "You are gonna shape up and fly right? Do you hear me?"
Leon rolled his eyes, "Oh, like she'll ever get in shape."
mother hushed him but let my father continue his performance. He said, "I didn't bring you up here so you could screw around and do whatever you want to do! We are here to vacation as a family!"
"I'm..." the words stung my mouth, "I'm sorry."
He smiled with satisfaction and gestured to the table, "I didn't like the looks of the pizza place, so we got some Kentucky Fried Chicken. I got you a large meal."
He turned to go outside and have a smoke, Leon tagged along after him. mother busied herself cleaning up while I ate all the food my father had brought, hating myself with every bite.
*
Despite being warned we were going on a deep-sea fishing trip, no one was ready for my father shouting and bullying us all awake more than an hour before sunrise. My mother was barely awake, but he was already ordering her and me to make breakfast. I didn't mind helping, but I did mind that Leon didn't have to lift a finger.
One sloppily made breakfast later, we were in the car making our way to the marina. Leon was in the front seat listening to my father's stories about the deep sea fishing expeditions he had gone on as a single man in the Navy. My mother’s gaze shifted down to her lap when he said those had been the best days of his life.
Leon asked about the ship, and my father began to explain the difference between a regular yacht and a sport fishing yacht but suddenly I realized something.
"Dad, we have to go back," I said, "I forgot my jacket."
"So?" He said.
"You said it would be freezing."
"And I said not to forget anything." he shrugged. He actually picked up speed as he maneuvered the car onto the interstate. Ten years ago, he'd told me I was his princess and he would do anything for me.
My mother piped up, "It's not such a bother, is it? We don't want her to catch cold."
"No."
"That's all right," she patted my arm, "We'll just buy you a jacket when we get to the marina. They must have a gift shop around there."
"We are not buying her a goddamn thing," my father said.
"Good thing she's got all that blubber to protect her," Leon said in a stage whisper.
"Ginny, Let me handle this," my father said. "Maybe she wouldn't be such a brat if she had to deal with some consequences once in a while."
"Oh," I said, "like your son had to deal with his consequences? How much did you spend to keep him out of jail?"
The answer was a lot. My father had moved Heaven and Earth to protect Leon and his 'promising future.' It had hurt our family financially and socially, and he had forbidden any of us to talk about it. But at moments like this, I was glad to bring it up; it felt good to remind them that the Boy Wonder had feet of clay.
"God damn it!" He pounded his fist on the steering wheel, "Can you not be a bitch for five minutes?"
"I don't know," My reply was lightning fast, so fast that I didn't realize the words had come from my mouth, "Can you not be a bastard?"
The brakes squealed as my father swerved us onto the shoulder. My mother gasped, and my brother snickered; a line had been crossed, but so many lines had been crossed over the last few years. I barely cared anymore. All I could think to myself was how we used to be a family. What happened to us?
He unbuckled himself and turned around in his seat, "You think you can talk to me like that? All this over a damn coat."
"Yes." I said, "Over a coat!"
"That's it." He said, and I flinched instinctively, "You're grounded."
"Grounded?"
We sped back to the cabin, and with every twist and turn of the wheel, my mother and brother grew more and more worried that my father was going to send us plowing into a tree or a ditch.
Finally, we arrived back at the cabin, and my father slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt. Without a word, he shifted into park and turned off the engine. We all sat there in silence, waiting for his next move.
My father turned to face me, "Get out.” He pointed towards the cabin's front door. "Go to your room and stay there until we get back."
I started to speak, but my mother shushed me, "Just do what he says. Please don't make any more trouble."
"We're gonna be late," Leon said.
I sighed and stepped out of the car onto the dusty gravel driveway. My family drove away. They left me behind. The sound of their departure echoed in my ears. I trudged up to the front door, wondering if any of them had spared me a backward glance.
When I was alone in the cabin, I did not go straight to my room; I plopped down on the couch. I had been looking forward to today; I had been so excited at the thought of being out on the ocean so far out on the ocean, that the shore would be just a memory. I had been so excited that I had forgotten my jacket. Now I could see it across the room, slung over the arm of the recliner. The sight of it made me bury my face in my hands. I stayed that way for a long time. Then I went to my temporary bedroom like a good girl and hated myself for it.
With nothing else to do, I napped and listened to my Walkman going through every one of the Police's albums, from Outlandos d'Amour to Synchronicity.
It was just a little while after lunch when the calls began. I answered immediately, thinking it was my parents checking up on me somehow. "Hello?"
I heard a man’s voice ask, "Is she there?” He was weeping. "Who is this?" I asked.
"Who is this?"
"I think you have the wrong number," I said.
“Ophelia is it you?"
I hung up the phone with a grimace, imagining some idiot with a fake number from a bimbo who'd flashed them a polite smile at first or some fake affection at best. Better them than me. I started to go back to my room when the phone rang again. I waited for whoever was on the other line to give up. Ten rings later, I answered. "Hello?"
"Ophelia?" They blubbered.
"That's not my name," I said, "Please stop calling."
"You sound like her."
“I’m not her. I’m nobody.”
The voice became even more desperate and pleading, "I've waited for so long."
I put the receiver back down again.
They called back almost instantly; this time I let the phone ring, put on my Walkman, and cranked the volume all the way up. I tried to let the music transport me to a place far away from the cabin, from that phone call, from my family. ‘Message In A Bottle’ filled my ears and I imagined myself somewhere far far away.
But the ringing persisted. I heard it going on and on in the silence between one song and another. It made me feel uneasy with questions. Finally, inevitably, I ripped off the earphones and picked up the phone again. "Look, I told you already, you have the wrong number," I said.
“I did everything you asked.” The voice on the other end of the line trembled, “I’ve been waiting for so long."
"Please." I pleaded, “stop bothering me."
"I need to see you." He said, "I'm coming to see you now."
"You don't even know-"
"328 Patti Page Way." The stranger started weeping again, "Don't you remember? We walked from the cabin to the beach and held hands at the promontory."
My stomach dropped. I quickly ended the call and retreated back to my room. After a few panicked moments, I put the chair in front of the door. How did they know where I was? I envisioned a local Romeo bewitched by a visiting Juliet. Now Juliet was long gone and Romeo was heartbroken. And where did that leave me?
Alone and defenseless with my family miles away. I hated myself for arguing over a stupid jacket. Was it really worth it? Arguing with people who would never let me win? Why couldn't I just grin and bear it?
The hours dragged on, each minute feeling like an eternity. I was terrified and bored; I didn't dare put my headphones back on, so I listened. Every creak and groan of the cabin seemed to taunt me. My nerves were shot as I waited for something, anything, to happen. Was the caller all talk and no action, or would some maniac break down the front door in search of his lost Ophelia?
A dozen forevers later, I heard the family car pulling up outside. Relief made me feel weak, but I still managed to un-baracade myself from my room and meet them at the door. My family looked sunburnt and exhausted; when I hugged my father, he reeked of salt and sweat, but I didn't care one damn bit. "Looks like someone learned their lesson."
There was a long pause before he reluctantly hugged me back. My mother entered the cabin holding up the bag of fast food she had gotten for me. When my brother passed my field of vision, he gave me a smirk . I didn’t care. I didn't argue; I just didn't want to be alone and afraid anymore.
*
That night, as I scarfed down my burger, I told them about the creep on the phone. My mother was horrified and said I should have called the police; my brother rolled his eyes and said I should have just left the phone off the receiver, and my father told me next time, I should grab a steak knife before I went into hiding. That night, I couldn't sleep well. The sound of the ocean was louder than usual, making me feel restless.
The next morning my mother said she wanted us all to go to the beach as a family. My father agreed with a grunt. Leon asked if he could call his friends from a few days ago and have them meet us there. My parents were fine with that.As soon as my brother was off the phone, we grabbed our cooler, beach chairs, and towels. We walked the short distance to the shore. The ocean was just as beautiful before. Sunlight danced upon the waves, creating a breathtaking display of shimmering light. I wanted to stare but instead helped my family find a spot and set up our little beach camp. My brother Leon, ignoring our mother's protests that we had just arrived, went off in search of his friends. I told my parents I wanted to go for a swim, and my father told me to be careful. My mother looked me over and asked why I wasn't wearing the nice new bathing suit she had gotten for me. I didn't really want to go into the water in shorts and a T-shirt, did I?
I explained that I was wearing the pale pink one-piece bathing suit she had bought me- under my t-shirt and shorts. That led to an argument that was as gentle as it was relentless; my mother won out, and I stripped out of my shorts and t-shirt. My father scowled at me and looked away. The salty breeze whipped at my hair, and as I waded into the cold water. Slowly, I let myself sink into the sea, allowing my body to float on its surface. The vastness of the ocean made my insecurity and anger seem insignificatant.
Looking back to the beach, I saw Leon returning with a small group of new friends: two girls and two guys. They introduced themselves to my parents. Then they stripped out of their street clothes, revealing bathing suits beneath. One of the girls wore a swimsuit exactly like the one from the Christie Brinkley poster. My father did not look away from her. An incoming wave lifted me up and dropped me back down again. When I looked back, they were running into the surf, laughing and splashing each other."
There was no way I wanted to share my part of the ocean with them. So I picked a direction and started to swim, my limbs moving with practiced ease. I had always been a good swimmer, but everything changed when I turned twelve and started to gain weight. Despite being an athletic kid, I began overeating in seventh grade. Our house had always been full of snacks, but suddenly, I couldn’t keep my hands off them. I don’t know what changed, but everyone else seemed to have an opinion about it and each one was worse than the last.
Mindful of the riptides, I kept the beach to my left as I swam. I saw volleyball players, solitary people reading, women sunbathing, children playing, strangers all of them but I knew if they saw me they would snicker and make snide remarks.
After a while, longer than I expected, my muscles began to ache, and fatigue set in. It was time to return to land and rest. Maybe I would walk back or maybe just sit on the sand for a while. In the distance, I noticed a formation of rocks jutting out from the water's surface. It was wide enough for three people to walk along and stretched all the way back to the beach. As I swam closer, I saw it rose about five feet above the waves. The closer I got, the rougher the ocean became, pushing me towards the rocks. I struggled to maintain control, but the relentless waves made keeping my head above water difficult. Salt water filled my mouth, and I collided with the ugly crag with bruising force.
I floated there for a few minutes, clinging to the rock formation. Finding a sturdy handhold, I began to climb, my tired muscles groaning with effort. Finally, I pushed myself up and lay flat on my back, staring at the sky and the gulls. I concentrated on nothing more than catching my breath.
What would have happened if I had drowned? If the angry tide had smashed me against the rocks with fatal force? Would my family even care? Or would they be relieved? Would they make jokes as they searched for a Plus-Size coffin?
I shut my eyes tightly and kept them closed until I heard a splashing noise nearby. Then, I sat upright and let my feet dangle over the edge of the rocky outcrop. The water was further below now, and I couldn't help but wonder how much time had passed while I lay there, blind to the world.
There was another splashing sound, and then her body broke the surface of the water below me; I hadn't seen anyone swimming there. Her hair was dark, and her face belonged on the cover of a beauty magazine. She was wearing nothing but a white blouse that was two sizes too large for her. The wet fabric revealed a body like something out of Leon's wet dreams. I wanted to grab one of the loose rocks nearby and drop it on her.
She scaled the jagged rocks with the fluid grace of a seal emerging from the water. Our eyes met, and she flashed a smile. "I didn't see you up there.” Dark hair clung to her skin, droplets of water trailing down her face. “I hope I'm not bothering you.”
I shrugged. "It's a free country." Then, with a hint of sarcasm, I added, "Couldn't afford a swimsuit?”
Her smile turned playful. "I have everything I need."
"I bet you do." The bitterness in my voice surprised me, and a twinge of guilt followed. What had she ever done to deserve that? Attempting to recover, I asked, "Uhm, do you like the beach?”
"I love the ocean," she fiddled with the wet fabric covering her torso, pulling it away from her skin only to have it settle back into place just as translucent as before. I got a strange feeling she was doing it for my benefit. "Unknowable, Uncontrollable. And deeper than any of us could imagine."
"That's pretty poetic."
"You have such serious eyes," She said. "Tell me your name."
I did. Then she moved closer, her face even with mine. Her smile became strange. She leaned in close, I thought she was going to say something, perhaps share a secret, but instead, she kissed me. Electric shocks ran through me. I felt numb. I felt sick. I felt warm all over.
The kiss broke. "Who are you?" I breathed.
Before she dove off the rock pier, she uttered just one word: "Ophelia." The name caught me off guard. I was still in shock from our kiss and didn't even hear the splash when she hit the water.
Scrambling drunkenly to my feet I raced back to my parents, the hot sand of the beach burning my feet, the taste of seawater heavy in my mouth, the cool breeze wafting off the ocean making me shiver. Or maybe it was something else making me shiver. I found my family packing up; my mother asked where I had been, and my father demanded to know what I had been up to. I made an excuse about riptides and losing track of where I was, and they believed it. All the while, Leon and his friends watched me and shared conspiratorial grins. On the walk back to the cabin, the girl in the Christie Brinkley swimsuit said, "Your brother told us all about you."
I was about to say something sarcastic when one of the guys said, “Why are you wearing lipstick?"
That stopped me dead in my tracks. I realized the taste in my mouth that I had taken to be seawater was something else. When I touched my lips with my fingers they came back stained red. When had I bitten my lip?
*
A noise outside the cabin startled me awake. I went to my cracked bedroom window and peered out into the darkness. I didn’t know how late at night it was but sunrise must have been hours away. The noise was like whispering; it wasn’t just one voice but several. Yet, even as that thought occurred, uncertainty crept in—were they really voices? Somehow, I just wasn’t sure. What I was sure of was that, somehow, the sounds were familiar to me, like something out of a dream.
I needed to know what it was. So I quickly threw on the clothes I had worn the day before and quietly made my way to the front door, careful not to wake anyone else in the cabin. There were no stars or moon, just the shadowy outline of low-hanging clouds. As I stepped onto the porch I nearly stumbled over the empty cooler that had been left behind by my parents. There was a sickening moment when I thought I was going to fall flat on my face, but I caught myself on the railing.
The air was warm and thick. Without thinking, I stepped off the porch and began to follow the sound of the whispers that were not whispers. My steps were cautious and shuffling as I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Gradually, I realized I was making my way along the familiar path to the beach.
The ocean was a mirror of the starless sky; I knew it was there only by the salty breeze and the rumbling crash of the waves. The sound of waves was so loud that it drowned out the whispers, but they were still there. I closed my eyes, trading one darkness for another, and tried to orient myself to the sound. I was sure it was somewhere to the east, but before I could follow it, I heard a familiar voice. It was the stranger from the phone, "Ophelia!"
My heart began to pound in my chest; sick with fear, I spun in place, looking for him, but I might as well have had my eyes closed.
"Ophelia!"
A figure emerged from the blackness, the outline of a man shuffling along the shore. His shoulders were hunched. I could imagine the tears running down his face, the gaunt face looking far older than the body that carried it. “You said you’d be here,” he said, his voice fading into the sound of the ocean, “You promised.”
Certain he believed he was alone, I began to back away slowly. I didn't dare run. With every step, I feared he would notice me and, despite my very different shape, mistake me for Ophelia. What was it I'd heard my father say to Leon? Something about every woman being the same in the dark.
The not-quite whispers were closer now. I followed the sound until I found myself where the rocky outcropping that had nearly killed me met the beach.
Fear and curiosity drove me to make my way along the ugly crag; water lapped at my feet, numbing them almost immediately. More, by instinct than anything else, I stopped at the edge of the outcrop. The waves were knee-level now, splashing against me relentlessly, trying to push me back. There was inky blackness all around me.
The whispering chorus stopped just as suddenly as it had begun. Impossibily the sound of the waves also vanished and I stood there unmoving, unseeing and unhearing. It made me remember that when I was a little girl, this is what I had imagined being dead felt like.
"I found you!" The sound of the stranger's voice jolted me. He was close behind me, a fast-approaching shadow. Panicked, I ran blindly and blundered over the side of the rock formation into the dark water.
Cold oblivion consumed me.*
I regained consciousness in a cave lit by unseen candles. Strange symbols adorned the walls, and the air was heavy with the scent of saltwater and decay. As my vision adjusted, I saw slender, ethereal shapes moving in the shadows, tending to something—an ugly silhouette that thrashed and gurgled.
A familiar figure loomed over me. Wet, dark hair and sea-blue eyes filled my vision. Her hand stroked my face, gentle yet firm. "Ophelia," I said.
"You've been asleep for so long." She propped my head up, bringing a clamshell to my lips. The water was salty and stung, but before I could protest, I realized I was naked. My clothes lay spread across the rock floor, slowly drying.
Humiliated, I curled into a ball, trying to cover myself. "Don't look at me!" I whispered.
Ophelia grabbed my wrists and pulled me into a sitting position. "You have nothing to be ashamed of." She was naked, too, her skin gleaming as though she had just left the water. "None of us do."
My heart raced, on the verge of tears. "Where am I?"
"Among friends." She drew me close.
I glanced at the feminine shapes lingering in the shadows; they had drawn closer to the figure at their feet. A sound reminiscent of a fish being scaled echoed in the cave, followed by a familiar sob. It was the man from the phone.
"Who are they?" my voice was barely above a whisper.
"Ophelia"
"I thought you were-” I began.
"We are all Ophelias," she said, her expression darkening, "Born to be martyrs in men's eyes."
I said, "I don't understand."
Ophelia’s mouth became an angry frown, ”We can be daughters, lovers, even angels, but we can never be free from that hateful thing they pretend is love.”
I asked, “Why did you bring me here?”
“Why don’t you stay?”
"You don't even know my name." I breathed, “You don’t know who I am?”
"Do you?" She said with a kiss. She pushed me down onto my back. As her lips moved across my skin, each kiss felt like a cold drop of winter rain. Dizziness washed over me. It was like I was on an elevator that wouldn't stop going up. “Who do you want to be? Are you who others say you are?"
Ophelia started running her nails hard across my chest and belly. I wanted to escape. I never wanted to leave. It was like she was taking me, making me hers. Blood welled up from the cuts and scrapes. She kissed the wounds she had made, one by one, her lips smearing red. The cave was filled with whispered songs that had no words. Her murmuring joined them.
When it was over she held me close.
“I love you,” the voice of the man from the phone said. He sounded like he was drowning, “Isn’t that enough?” He coughed twice and then fell silent.
The candles began to go out one by one, and shadows began to swallow her, trying to snatch her away from me. I kissed her hard on the mouth, losing myself in her. In a matter of seconds, I was lost in darkness.
* It was late in the morning when I awoke. I was lying flat on my back on the crag. The clouds above were a stormy purple, and the rain was coming down hard. I was soaking wet, and my clothes were plastered to my skin. I heard a familiar voice calling my name, but it wasn't one I wanted to hear. I moaned, half with exhaustion, half with anguish. My skin still ached and tingled in the places Ophelia had clawed at me.
With trembling hands, I crawled to the ledge and looked down. The tide had gone out. Fifteen feet below me, Leon was trudging along the surf, wet and miserable, and shouting my name.
"Leon?" I called out. For a hilarious moment, he was utterly bewildered, his square head swiveling back and forth. I called again, "Up here!”
When he finally saw me, he started screaming, "You are in big trouble! Dad is seriously pissed!”
"I just went for a walk.”
"A walk? You've been gone for over a day!" Leon blundered closer until he was directly below me. I could have spit on him if I wanted to.
I scowled down at him, remembering all the times he had disappeared for an entire weekend without a single phone call, only to return to a gentle reprimand from our father instead of a harsh scolding and a slap to the back of the head. I used one of his excuses, "I was with friends."
The expression on his face twisted as if he were looking at something disgusting. "Delores told me she saw you here last night!"
Bile rose up in my throat. "So what?”
"She saw what you were doing! Are you crazy? Why can't you just be normal? What is wrong with—"
A stone the size of a bowling ball crashed down on Leon, crushing his skull. He collapsed face down into the surf, blood clouding the seawater.
I scrambled to my feet to find Ophelia standing near me. "You killed him," I said.
The waves greedily pulled at Leon's body, twisting and bending it like a rag doll only to push it back up the sand again.
I know I should have felt something, but I didn’t. “What am I going to do?’"I whispered, my voice barely audible over the pounding of the rain and the racing of my own thoughts.
“What do you want to do?”
"I want to be with you." The rain pelted us. It was getting cold and dark, but it didn't matter. I felt safe in her arms., "I want to be with you forever."
"Then be with us," she said.
"What about Leon?"
Ophelia chuckled coldly. ”What about him?"
"But the police will find out," I said.
She released me and stepped to the edge of the crag, "In the deep dark," She said, "We are free from judgment."
The downpour had become torrential. Ophelia's words caused me to gaze longingly at the ocean. Each wave crashed against the shore with a powerful roar, sending spray and mist into the air.
She kissed my forehead.
There were no second thoughts, no worries. I turned and started walking back to the cabin. After a few minutes, I turned back to look for Ophelia. Through the storm, I saw four hazy but unmistakably masculine figures standing by Leon's body. Moving clumsily, they lifted his limp form and carried it into the sea.
*
From the moment I stepped into the cabin my father started screaming at me, my mother was silent and glared reporachfully. The stinging sensation of my scratches was intensifying to the point of almost being pleasurable.
Turning away from them, I walked calmly to the kitchenette. Their voices seemed distant as if echoing from the base of a rocky cliff during low tide. Steady-handed, I reached into the kitchen drawer and retrieved a steak knife. My father's insult rang out. "Oh, Jesus Christ! She's going to make a sandwich!"
Ignoring him was easy. Everything he said was familiar. I waited until his temper broke, and he all but ran at me. He violently grabbed my shoulder, yanking me around to face him.
The knife was dull, but my strength proved more than sufficient to slice open his throat. Blood splattered across both our faces. His scream was gurgling and wet, his mouth gaping like a fish. He stumbled backward, clutching at his neck, tripped over his own feet, and collapsed. I stood there, watching as my father spent the final moments of his life weeping.
When it was over, I looked to my mother. She had been standing by watching, just like always. "Angela, please," she cowered at my approach.
I raised the bloody knife above my head, "That's not my name."
*
There was enough kerosene left in the cabin's rusty heater, to start a good fire. I watched the structure burn for a little while. I felt nothing; I hadn't felt anything at all since I left Ophelia's arms. When I was finished I headed for the shore.
And now the storm has left the beach deserted, and the ocean crashes and roars against the surf. I am alone and covered with blood. Standing on the slowly retreating waterline, I watch for the first signs of sunrise. I'm waiting. I've been waiting so long.
But Ophelia said she'd be here.
She promised.
The tingling under my skin was painful. I ripped at my clothes and tore madly at the scabs. They broke open easily. The flesh beneath them was unblemished and gleaming.
I waded out into the cold, crashing water, leaving my shirt, shorts, and long red strips of my flesh behind. In the unknowable depths, I would never be a daughter, a punchline, or a scapegoat. I would be free.
With each footstep, the roar of the waves changed, becoming softer and prayer-like. It sounded like a chorus of voices calling out the name "Ophelia."
Voices so very much like mine.

​
https://reddit.com/link/1d0jc10/video/e7a9csdyfm2d1/player

Crash Report .txt

Illegal operation: Code: 6F8E1DC8h, flags: 00000001h, address: 759798B2h Additional parameters: 00000016h Last win32 error: 31 Call path: album_art_manager_v2::open Code bytes (759798B2h): 75979872h: 04 24 8B 45 0C 83 E0 01 C7 44 24 0C 50 98 97 75 75979882h: 89 44 24 04 85 C9 74 3E 8B 45 10 83 F8 0F 77 31 75979892h: 89 44 24 10 C1 E0 02 50 51 8D 44 24 1C 50 E8 D9 759798A2h: F6 04 00 83 C4 0C 8D 04 24 50 FF 15 4C 44 A6 75 759798B2h: 8B 4C 24 54 33 CC E8 85 6C 00 00 8B E5 5D C2 10 759798C2h: 00 6A 0F 58 EB CA 83 64 24 10 00 EB D9 CC CC CC 759798D2h: CC CC CC CC CC CC CC CC CC CC CC CC CC CC 8B FF 759798E2h: 55 8B EC 51 8B 45 08 83 F8 F4 0F 84 23 9F 05 00 Stack (0B11F968h): 0B11F948h: A64FB8EF 00000016 00000000 0B11F9C4 0B11F958h: 759798A5 0B11F9C4 759798B2 0B11F968 0B11F968h: 6F8E1DC8 00000001 00000000 759798B2 0B11F978h: 00000001 00000016 0000000C 00000064 0B11F988h: 000D000B 00000064 000C0011 00000064 0B11F998h: 00080008 1C518B28 00000000 0B11F9BC 0B11F9A8h: 7594FC7B 773E0609 0B11F9B8 7594FC60 0B11F9B8h: 00000000 8EC50BEA 00000016 0B11FA2C 0B11F9C8h: 009DBD6C 6F8E1DC8 00000001 00000001 0B11F9D8h: 0B11F9E0 7705CCB4 00000016 BFE6E032 0B11F9E8h: 00000001 00000003 0BAAF340 7705C77E 0B11F9F8h: 00000000 00000000 009DBD50 00000000 0B11FA08h: 770C56C0 009DBD50 01006C41 0B11F9E4 0B11FA18h: 0B11F368 0B11FB44 77028D70 C3FC48F6 0B11FA28h: FFFFFFFE 0B11FA48 7705E332 00000016 0B11FA38h: 1AC525C0 00000000 00000003 00000003 0B11FA48h: 0B11FA5C 06046BCA 006EEFF0 1AC525C0 0B11FA58h: 00000000 0B11FA8C 05F732A1 1606E310 0B11FA68h: 00000190 006EEFF0 00000000 00000001 0B11FA78h: 1AC525C0 006EEFF0 00000000 1AC525C0 Registers: EAX: 0B11F968, EBX: 009DBD50, ECX: 00000001, EDX: 00000000 ESI: 00000016, EDI: 00000000, EBP: 0B11F9C4, ESP: 0B11F968 Timestamp: 8797ms Crash location: Module: KERNELBASE Offset: 1498B2h Symbol: "RaiseException" (+62h) Loaded modules: foobar2000 loaded at 00900000h - 00C68000h ntdll loaded at 77380000h - 77531000h KERNEL32 loaded at 756F0000h - 757E0000h KERNELBASE loaded at 75830000h - 75AA5000h SHLWAPI loaded at 75140000h - 7518B000h msvcrt loaded at 770E0000h - 771A4000h COMCTL32 loaded at 74DB0000h - 74FD8000h USER32 loaded at 76D20000h - 76EC9000h GDI32 loaded at 77240000h - 77263000h WINMM loaded at 74D70000h - 74DA1000h win32u loaded at 76ED0000h - 76EEA000h ucrtbase loaded at 76FC0000h - 770D2000h UxTheme loaded at 74CF0000h - 74D6F000h ADVAPI32 loaded at 76CA0000h - 76D1F000h gdi32full loaded at 75BC0000h - 75CA2000h combase loaded at 760F0000h - 7636C000h sechost loaded at 771B0000h - 77235000h msvcp_win loaded at 77270000h - 772E9000h RPCRT4 loaded at 75530000h - 755EA000h bcrypt loaded at 76380000h - 7639A000h SHELL32 loaded at 76400000h - 76A99000h ole32 loaded at 76AA0000h - 76BF5000h OLEAUT32 loaded at 76C00000h - 76C9C000h CRYPT32 loaded at 75AB0000h - 75BB3000h zlib1 loaded at 74CD0000h - 74CE9000h shared loaded at 74CA0000h - 74CC2000h MSVCP140 loaded at 74B60000h - 74BCD000h sqlite3 loaded at 74BD0000h - 74C91000h MSIMG32 loaded at 74B50000h - 74B56000h OLEACC loaded at 74AF0000h - 74B44000h WINHTTP loaded at 74A10000h - 74AEC000h gdiplus loaded at 748A0000h - 74A0E000h Secur32 loaded at 74890000h - 7489A000h VCRUNTIME140 loaded at 74870000h - 74885000h imagehlp loaded at 75810000h - 7582B000h COMDLG32 loaded at 75460000h - 75511000h shcore loaded at 75300000h - 753C1000h dbghelp loaded at 74690000h - 74866000h SSPICLI loaded at 74660000h - 7468B000h dbgcore loaded at 74630000h - 74659000h IMM32 loaded at 757E0000h - 75805000h guard32 loaded at 74570000h - 74629000h version loaded at 74560000h - 74568000h fltlib loaded at 74550000h - 74559000h kernel.appcore loaded at 74530000h - 74543000h bcryptPrimitives loaded at 77300000h - 77362000h MSCTF loaded at 75040000h - 7513F000h atlthunk loaded at 74520000h - 7452E000h textinputframework loaded at 74420000h - 74519000h TextShaping loaded at 74380000h - 74415000h CoreMessaging loaded at 742B0000h - 7437E000h CoreUIComponents loaded at 74010000h - 742A1000h wintypes loaded at 73F40000h - 74007000h CRYPTBASE loaded at 73F30000h - 73F3B000h foo_fileops loaded at 73ED0000h - 73F2C000h foo_dsp_std loaded at 73E90000h - 73ECB000h foo_unpack loaded at 73E00000h - 73E81000h foo_svg_services loaded at 73BA0000h - 73DFA000h foo_input_ffmpeg loaded at 73B60000h - 73B93000h foo_dsp_effect loaded at 10000000h - 10068000h foo_headphone_eq loaded at 05520000h - 055CC000h foo_dsp_eq loaded at 73AF0000h - 73B5C000h dwmapi loaded at 73AC0000h - 73AE4000h foo_out_spatial loaded at 73AB0000h - 73ABF000h AVRT loaded at 73AA0000h - 73AA9000h foo_room_eq loaded at 055D0000h - 05803000h foo_mpv loaded at 05810000h - 06F7B000h WS2_32 loaded at 763A0000h - 763FF000h MFPlat loaded at 73900000h - 73A96000h cfgmgr32 loaded at 738C0000h - 738FD000h RTWorkQ loaded at 73890000h - 738BD000h foo_keep_queue loaded at 73880000h - 7388F000h MSVCR90 loaded at 737D0000h - 73873000h foo_beefweb loaded at 736B0000h - 737CA000h MSWSOCK loaded at 73650000h - 736A1000h foo_ui_std loaded at 734A0000h - 73645000h foo_out_asio loaded at 06FA0000h - 06FBC000h foo_dsp_vst3 loaded at 73430000h - 73491000h foo_loop loaded at 73420000h - 7342C000h foo_dsp_utility loaded at 733F0000h - 73412000h foo_dsp_dolbyhp loaded at 733C0000h - 733E4000h foo_masstag loaded at 73380000h - 733BB000h foo_enhanced_playcount loaded at 07030000h - 07067000h foo_xspf_1 loaded at 73310000h - 7337C000h foo_queue_viewer loaded at 732C0000h - 73305000h foo_bpm loaded at 73280000h - 732B5000h foo_freedb2 loaded at 73240000h - 73279000h foo_youtube loaded at 070E0000h - 07874000h QUARTZ loaded at 73090000h - 73232000h windows.storage loaded at 729A0000h - 7308F000h foo_onewaysync loaded at 07BB0000h - 08044000h WINSPOOL loaded at 72920000h - 7299F000h oledlg loaded at 728F0000h - 7291E000h foo_playcount loaded at 728B0000h - 728E7000h foo_play_next loaded at 728A0000h - 728AC000h foo_loudness_peakmeter loaded at 08070000h - 08096000h foo_run loaded at 080B0000h - 080CD000h foo_out_wasapis loaded at 72880000h - 72899000h foo_converter loaded at 727E0000h - 72876000h foo_openlyrics loaded at 72650000h - 727D5000h d2d1 loaded at 72130000h - 7264B000h d3d11 loaded at 71EF0000h - 72128000h DWrite loaded at 71CC0000h - 71EE4000h dxgi loaded at 71BF0000h - 71CBA000h foo_queuecontents loaded at 08100000h - 0816E000h foo_wave_seekbar loaded at 08360000h - 08509000h PSAPI loaded at 772F0000h - 772F6000h IPHLPAPI loaded at 71A10000h - 71A34000h MSVCP120 loaded at 71990000h - 71A01000h MSVCR120 loaded at 718A0000h - 7198E000h foo_enhanced_spectrum_analyzer loaded at 081E0000h - 08200000h foo_input_std loaded at 716D0000h - 71898000h MSACM32 loaded at 716B0000h - 716C9000h avcodec-fb2k-60 loaded at 714A0000h - 716AC000h avformat-fb2k-60 loaded at 71470000h - 7149C000h avutil-fb2k-58 loaded at 712A0000h - 71464000h foo_dsp_fsurround loaded at 08220000h - 082F9000h foo_metronome loaded at 71290000h - 7129C000h foo_out_xaudio2 loaded at 71280000h - 7128F000h XAudio2_9Redist loaded at 711A0000h - 71274000h foo_dsp_eqsplit loaded at 710D0000h - 71194000h boost_serialization-vc143-mt-x3 loaded at 71090000h - 710C2000h foo_uie_esplaylist loaded at 71020000h - 7108A000h foo_vis_spectrum_analyzer loaded at 70FB0000h - 7101A000h foo_channel_mixer loaded at 70F70000h - 70FAF000h foo_dsp_lcc loaded at 70F60000h - 70F6F000h frontend_direct2d loaded at 70F10000h - 70F51000h madVR loaded at 4A400000h - 4ADA9000h WINTRUST loaded at 75690000h - 756E7000h WTSAPI32 loaded at 70F00000h - 70F0F000h MADHCNET32 loaded at 094B0000h - 0959C000h MVRSETTINGS32 loaded at 095A0000h - 096AB000h d3d9 loaded at 70D80000h - 70EF1000h netapi32 loaded at 70D60000h - 70D74000h wsock32 loaded at 70D50000h - 70D58000h dnsapi loaded at 70C90000h - 70D4D000h dxcore loaded at 70C60000h - 70C8E000h NETUTILS loaded at 70C50000h - 70C5B000h NSI loaded at 75520000h - 75527000h wkscli loaded at 70C30000h - 70C42000h cscapi loaded at 70C20000h - 70C2E000h FaultRep loaded at 70BB0000h - 70C1D000h ntmarta loaded at 70B80000h - 70BA9000h MSASN1 loaded at 70B70000h - 70B7E000h XySubFilter loaded at 709F0000h - 70B63000h WININET loaded at 70560000h - 709E8000h clbcatq loaded at 753D0000h - 75452000h dataexchange loaded at 70510000h - 7055C000h twinapi.appcore loaded at 70320000h - 7050C000h IconCodecService loaded at 70310000h - 70318000h WindowsCodecs loaded at 701B0000h - 70310000h MMDevApi loaded at 70130000h - 701AC000h DEVOBJ loaded at 70100000h - 70124000h mpv-2 loaded at 10070000h - 14D8D000h SETUPAPI loaded at 75CB0000h - 760ED000h OPENGL32 loaded at 6B300000h - 6B3E0000h AVICAP32 loaded at 6B2E0000h - 6B2F5000h GLU32 loaded at 6B290000h - 6B2D2000h MSVFW32 loaded at 6B260000h - 6B284000h directxdatabasehelper loaded at 6B220000h - 6B25C000h aticfx32 loaded at 6B0B0000h - 6B217000h PP-UWP-Interop loaded at 6B0A0000h - 6B0AA000h vccorlib140 loaded at 6B050000h - 6B093000h atiuxpag loaded at 6B020000h - 6B04F000h Windows.Media.Playback.Backgrou loaded at 6AF60000h - 6B01E000h Windows.Media.MediaControl loaded at 6AEE0000h - 6AF55000h atidxx32 loaded at 69440000h - 6AEDC000h amdihk32 loaded at 69410000h - 69438000h AUDIOSES loaded at 69280000h - 6940A000h MFMediaEngine loaded at 68EF0000h - 6927E000h powrprof loaded at 68EA0000h - 68EE5000h XmlLite loaded at 68E70000h - 68E9B000h UMPDC loaded at 68E60000h - 68E6E000h resourcepolicyclient loaded at 68E50000h - 68E60000h Windows.UI loaded at 68D40000h - 68E4A000h Windows.Media.Devices loaded at 68CC0000h - 68D35000h Windows.Media.Playback.ProxyStu loaded at 68CB0000h - 68CBD000h OneCoreUAPCommonProxyStub loaded at 68A30000h - 68CAD000h d3dcompiler_47 loaded at 68670000h - 68A23000h CRYPTSP loaded at 68650000h - 68665000h mscms loaded at 685B0000h - 68650000h explorerframe loaded at 683C0000h - 685A6000h dcomp loaded at 68220000h - 683BC000h PROPSYS loaded at 68150000h - 68217000h Stack dump analysis: Address: 759798B2h (KERNELBASE+1498B2h), symbol: "RaiseException" (+62h) Address: 7594FC7Bh (KERNELBASE+11FC7Bh), symbol: "FlsGetValue" (+1Bh) Address: 773E0609h (ntdll+60609h), symbol: "RtlSetLastWin32Error" (+39h) Address: 7594FC60h (KERNELBASE+11FC60h), symbol: "FlsGetValue" (+0h) Address: 009DBD6Ch (foobar2000+DBD6Ch) Address: 7705CCB4h (ucrtbase+9CCB4h), symbol: "raise" (+1B4h) Address: 7705C77Eh (ucrtbase+9C77Eh), symbol: "perror" (+6Eh) Address: 009DBD50h (foobar2000+DBD50h) Address: 770C56C0h (ucrtbase+1056C0h), symbol: "mbcasemap" (+110h) Address: 009DBD50h (foobar2000+DBD50h) Address: 77028D70h (ucrtbase+68D70h), symbol: "crt_debugger_hook" (+D0h) Address: 7705E332h (ucrtbase+9E332h), symbol: "abort" (+32h) Address: 06046BCAh (foo_mpv+836BCAh), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+6A35DAh) Address: 05F732A1h (foo_mpv+7632A1h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+5CFCB1h) Address: 05F7719Bh (foo_mpv+76719Bh), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+5D3BABh) Address: 05966E6Fh (foo_mpv+156E6Fh) Address: 05968042h (foo_mpv+158042h) Address: 066EF248h (foo_mpv+EDF248h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D4BC58h) Address: 76FF21BBh (ucrtbase+321BBh), symbol: "free_base" (+1Bh) Address: 76FF2188h (ucrtbase+32188h), symbol: "free" (+18h) Address: 066EF248h (foo_mpv+EDF248h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D4BC58h) Address: 0637562Dh (foo_mpv+B6562Dh), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+9D203Dh) Address: 05968E43h (foo_mpv+158E43h) Address: 76FF21BBh (ucrtbase+321BBh), symbol: "free_base" (+1Bh) Address: 76FF2188h (ucrtbase+32188h), symbol: "free" (+18h) Address: 00B3C106h (foobar2000+23C106h) Address: 0090B922h (foobar2000+B922h) Address: 0093B30Ch (foobar2000+3B30Ch) Address: 77410601h (ntdll+90601h), symbol: "RtlRemovePropertyStore" (+8B1h) Address: 773CC4E3h (ntdll+4C4E3h), symbol: "RtlAllocateHeap" (+493h) Address: 066ABB38h (foo_mpv+E9BB38h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D08548h) Address: 066EF248h (foo_mpv+EDF248h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D4BC58h) Address: 066CB800h (foo_mpv+EBB800h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D28210h) Address: 066CB380h (foo_mpv+EBB380h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D27D90h) Address: 066ABAE0h (foo_mpv+E9BAE0h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D084F0h) Address: 066ABB38h (foo_mpv+E9BB38h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D08548h) Address: 066ABB38h (foo_mpv+E9BB38h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D08548h) Address: 063757BBh (foo_mpv+B657BBh), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+9D21CBh) Address: 0093B70Bh (foobar2000+3B70Bh) Address: 066EF248h (foo_mpv+EDF248h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D4BC58h) Address: 76FEF6D8h (ucrtbase+2F6D8h), symbol: "malloc_base" (+28h) Address: 066EF248h (foo_mpv+EDF248h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D4BC58h) Address: 00B42F4Ch (foobar2000+242F4Ch) Address: 0093BD7Eh (foobar2000+3BD7Eh) Address: 066EF248h (foo_mpv+EDF248h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D4BC58h) Address: 00B7DC14h (foobar2000+27DC14h) Address: 066EF31Ch (foo_mpv+EDF31Ch), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D4BD2Ch) Address: 00B42FF8h (foobar2000+242FF8h) Address: 0093BE06h (foobar2000+3BE06h) Address: 00BE2EB8h (foobar2000+2E2EB8h) Address: 066EF248h (foo_mpv+EDF248h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D4BC58h) Address: 0595A805h (foo_mpv+14A805h) Address: 066EF248h (foo_mpv+EDF248h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D4BC58h) Address: 0595B930h (foo_mpv+14B930h) Address: 066ABAA8h (foo_mpv+E9BAA8h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D084B8h) Address: 066A9F5Ch (foo_mpv+E99F5Ch), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+D0696Ch) Address: 06681AD8h (foo_mpv+E71AD8h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+CDE4E8h) Address: 06ED30D8h (foo_mpv+16C30D8h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+152FAE8h) Address: 06ED30D8h (foo_mpv+16C30D8h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+152FAE8h) Address: 06ED30D8h (foo_mpv+16C30D8h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+152FAE8h) Address: 00BE2EC8h (foobar2000+2E2EC8h) Address: 00BE2EC8h (foobar2000+2E2EC8h) Address: 06374557h (foo_mpv+B64557h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+9D0F67h) Address: 0595B94Dh (foo_mpv+14B94Dh) Address: 06374610h (foo_mpv+B64610h), symbol: "foobar2000_get_interface" (+9D1020h) Address: 770059E3h (ucrtbase+459E3h), symbol: "time32" (+83h) Address: 770059A0h (ucrtbase+459A0h), symbol: "time32" (+40h) Address: 770059A0h (ucrtbase+459A0h), symbol: "time32" (+40h) Address: 77028D70h (ucrtbase+68D70h), symbol: "crt_debugger_hook" (+D0h) Address: 75707BA9h (KERNEL32+17BA9h), symbol: "BaseThreadInitThunk" (+19h) Address: 75707B90h (KERNEL32+17B90h), symbol: "BaseThreadInitThunk" (+0h) Address: 773EBE3Bh (ntdll+6BE3Bh), symbol: "RtlInitializeExceptionChain" (+6Bh) Address: 75A43160h (KERNELBASE+213160h), symbol: "UnhandledExceptionFilter" (+0h) Address: 773FEFA0h (ntdll+7EFA0h), symbol: "wcstombs" (+70h) Address: 70B3DEC7h (XySubFilter+14DEC7h), symbol: "DllCanUnloadNow" (+FE057h) Address: 773EBDBFh (ntdll+6BDBFh), symbol: "RtlClearBits" (+BFh) Address: 774193F8h (ntdll+993F8h), symbol: "RtlCaptureContext" (+108h) Address: 770059A0h (ucrtbase+459A0h), symbol: "time32" (+40h) Environment: App: foobar2000 v2.1.5 Arch: x86 UI: Default User Interface 2.1.5 Components: Core (2024-05-02 12:05:54 UTC) foobar2000 core 2.1.5 foo_beefweb (2023-09-03 02:40:40 UTC) Beefweb Remote Control 0.8 foo_bpm (2023-10-06 05:30:24 UTC) BPM Analyser 0.2.4.6 foo_channel_mixer (2011-06-01 17:18:02 UTC) Channel Mixer 0.9.6.7 foo_converter (2024-05-02 12:06:26 UTC) Converter 2.1.5 foo_dsp_dolbyhp (2010-01-22 08:10:28 UTC) Dolby Headphone Wrapper 1.4.1 foo_dsp_effect (2024-05-02 21:25:22 UTC) Effect DSP 0.51 foo_dsp_eq (2024-05-02 12:06:28 UTC) Equalizer 1.2.3 foo_dsp_eqsplit (2023-01-15 13:16:58 UTC) Split equalizer v0.0.2 foo_dsp_fsurround (2012-07-06 17:59:44 UTC) FreeSurround 0.9.0 foo_dsp_lcc (2024-04-12 14:26:42 UTC) LCC (Localization Cue Correction) DSP 0.1 foo_dsp_std (2024-05-02 12:06:32 UTC) Standard DSP Array 2.1.5 foo_dsp_utility (2023-02-23 13:57:44 UTC) Utility DSP Array 1.3.2 foo_dsp_vst3 (2024-04-09 08:08:52 UTC) VST 2.x/3.x Adapter 0.12 foo_enhanced_playcount (2023-03-22 17:26:32 UTC) Enhanced Playback Statistics 5.0.0 foo_enhanced_spectrum_analyzer (2023-05-06 13:18:54 UTC) Enhanced Spectrum analyzer 1.9.2.0 foo_fileops (2024-05-02 12:06:36 UTC) File Operations 2.1.5 foo_freedb2 (2024-05-02 12:06:40 UTC) Online Tagger 0.10 foo_headphone_eq (2023-01-24 16:53:50 UTC) MathAudio Headphone EQ 1.4.9 foo_input_ffmpeg (2022-08-29 10:55:28 UTC) FFmpeg Decoder Wrapper 0.8 foo_input_std (2024-05-02 12:06:20 UTC) CD Audio Decoder 2.1.5 FFmpeg Decoders 6.0 FLAC Decoder 1.4.3 Monkey's Audio Decoder 10.30 Opus Decoder 1.4 Standard Input Array 2.1.5 foo_keep_queue (2010-11-11 22:58:46 UTC) Keep Queue 0.3.5 foo_loop (2023-04-30 10:47:34 UTC) Loop 1.6 foo_loudness_peakmeter (2023-04-09 12:27:54 UTC) Loudness Peakmeter 0.1.1.1 foo_masstag (2022-09-19 06:31:54 UTC) Masstagger 1.9 foo_metronome (2022-10-22 10:36:36 UTC) Metronome 1.2 foo_mpv (2024-03-26 07:49:02 UTC) mpv Video 0.6.10 beta foo_onewaysync (2020-04-20 18:49:28 UTC) One Way Sync 0.7.0 foo_openlyrics (2023-10-28 10:36:36 UTC) OpenLyrics 1.8 foo_out_asio (2023-11-28 06:05:46 UTC) ASIO Output 2.2.2 foo_out_spatial (2024-05-22 12:02:38 UTC) Spatial Audio Output 0.2 foo_out_wasapis (2024-03-30 11:26:18 UTC) WASAPI shared output 0.6.24 foo_out_xaudio2 (2024-03-14 16:06:30 UTC) XAudio2 output 0.4.2 foo_play_next (2023-03-16 08:35:46 UTC) Play Next 0.2.3 foo_playcount (2023-03-14 08:33:58 UTC) Playback Statistics 3.1.5 foo_queue_viewer (2023-04-27 17:12:14 UTC) Queue Viewer 1.0.22 foo_queuecontents (2012-02-23 16:36:40 UTC) Queue Contents Editor 0.5.1 foo_room_eq (2022-10-08 08:36:40 UTC) MathAudio Room EQ 2.8.1 foo_run (2022-09-19 05:42:20 UTC) Run services 0.4.5 foo_svg_services (2023-11-09 13:44:20 UTC) SVG services 0.3.0 foo_ui_std (2024-05-02 12:06:06 UTC) Album List 2.1.5 Decoding Speed Test 2.1.5 Default User Interface 2.1.5 File Integrity Verifier 2.1.5 foo_uie_esplaylist (2011-05-28 18:36:46 UTC) EsPlaylist 0.1.3.9 foo_unpack (2024-05-02 12:06:48 UTC) ZIP/GZIP/RA7-Zip Reader 2.1.5 foo_vis_spectrum_analyzer (2024-04-17 16:18:40 UTC) Spectrum Analyzer 0.7.6.2 foo_wave_seekbar (2014-02-08 17:07:10 UTC) Waveform seekbar 0.2.45 foo_xspf_1 (2017-01-25 08:22:48 UTC) XSPF Playlist 2.6.4 foo_youtube (2024-05-06 15:33:26 UTC) Youtube Source 3.9.1 Recent events: [984ms] Added 6 services [984ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_out_spatial\foo_out_spatial.dll [984ms] Component : foo_out_spatial API 80 [984ms] Added 3 services [984ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_room_eq\foo_room_eq.dll [984ms] Component : foo_room_eq API 80 [984ms] Added 3 services [984ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_mpv\foo_mpv.dll [1000ms] Component : foo_mpv API 80 [1000ms] Added 40 services [1000ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_keep_queue\foo_keep_queue.dll [1000ms] Component : foo_keep_queue API 76 [1000ms] Added 7 services [1000ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_beefweb\foo_beefweb.dll [1000ms] Component : foo_beefweb API 80 [1000ms] Added 4 services [1000ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\components\foo_ui_std.dll [1000ms] Component : foo_ui_std API 81 [1000ms] Added 113 services [1000ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_out_asio\foo_out_asio.dll [1000ms] Component : foo_out_asio API 80 [1000ms] Added 3 services [1000ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_dsp_vst3\foo_dsp_vst3.dll [1000ms] Component : foo_dsp_vst3 API 80 [1000ms] Added 9 services [1000ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_loop\foo_loop.dll [1016ms] Component : foo_loop API 80 [1016ms] Added 4 services [1016ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_dsp_utility\foo_dsp_utility.dll [1016ms] Component : foo_dsp_utility API 80 [1016ms] Added 15 services [1016ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_dsp_dolbyhp\foo_dsp_dolbyhp.dll [1016ms] Component : foo_dsp_dolbyhp API 76 [1016ms] Added 3 services [1016ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_masstag\foo_masstag.dll [1016ms] Component : foo_masstag API 80 [1016ms] Added 23 services [1016ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_enhanced_playcount\foo_enhanced_playcount.dll [1016ms] Component : foo_enhanced_playcount API 80 [1016ms] Added 13 services [1016ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_xspf_1\foo_xspf_1.dll [1016ms] Component : foo_xspf_1 API 78 [1016ms] Added 23 services [1016ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_queue_viewer\foo_queue_viewer.dll [1016ms] Component : foo_queue_viewer API 81 [1016ms] Added 8 services [1016ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_bpm\foo_bpm.dll [1016ms] Component : foo_bpm API 80 [1016ms] Added 5 services [1016ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\components\foo_freedb2.dll [1016ms] Component : foo_freedb2 API 81 [1016ms] Added 9 services [1016ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_youtube\foo_youtube.dll [1047ms] Component : foo_youtube API 80 [1047ms] Added 157 services [1047ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_onewaysync\foo_onewaysync.dll [1047ms] Component : foo_onewaysync API 77 [1047ms] Added 10 services [1047ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_playcount\foo_playcount.dll [1047ms] Component : foo_playcount API 80 [1047ms] Added 25 services [1047ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_play_next\foo_play_next.dll [1047ms] Component : foo_play_next API 80 [1047ms] Added 3 services [1047ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_loudness_peakmeter\foo_loudness_peakmeter.dll [1063ms] Component : foo_loudness_peakmeter API 80 [1063ms] Added 5 services [1063ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_run\foo_run.dll [1063ms] Component : foo_run API 80 [1063ms] Added 5 services [1063ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_out_wasapis\foo_out_wasapis.dll [1063ms] Component : foo_out_wasapis API 80 [1063ms] Added 6 services [1063ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\components\foo_converter.dll [1063ms] Component : foo_converter API 81 [1063ms] Added 40 services [1063ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_openlyrics\foo_openlyrics.dll [1063ms] Component : foo_openlyrics API 80 [1063ms] Added 31 services [1063ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_queuecontents\foo_queuecontents.dll [1063ms] Component : foo_queuecontents API 77 [1063ms] Added 10 services [1063ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_wave_seekbar\foo_wave_seekbar.dll [1078ms] Component : foo_wave_seekbar API 77 [1078ms] Added 26 services [1078ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_enhanced_spectrum_analyzer\foo_enhanced_spectrum_analyzer.dll [1078ms] Component : foo_enhanced_spectrum_analyzer API 80 [1078ms] Added 5 services [1078ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\components\foo_input_std.dll [1078ms] Component : foo_input_std API 81 [1078ms] Added 195 services [1078ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_dsp_fsurround\foo_dsp_fsurround.dll [1078ms] Component : foo_dsp_fsurround API 72 [1078ms] Added 2 services [1078ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_metronome\foo_metronome.dll [1078ms] Component : foo_metronome API 80 [1078ms] Added 5 services [1078ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_out_xaudio2\foo_out_xaudio2.dll [1094ms] Component : foo_out_xaudio2 API 80 [1094ms] Added 3 services [1094ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_dsp_eqsplit\foo_dsp_eqsplit.dll [1094ms] Component : foo_dsp_eqsplit API 80 [1094ms] Added 2 services [1094ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_uie_esplaylist\foo_uie_esplaylist.dll [1094ms] Component : foo_uie_esplaylist API 76 [1094ms] Added 14 services [1094ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_vis_spectrum_analyzer\foo_vis_spectrum_analyzer.dll [1094ms] Component : foo_vis_spectrum_analyzer API 80 [1094ms] Added 6 services [1094ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_channel_mixer\foo_channel_mixer.dll [1094ms] Component : foo_channel_mixer API 76 [1094ms] Added 5 services [1094ms] Loading DLL: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\user-components\foo_dsp_lcc\foo_dsp_lcc.dll [1094ms] Component : foo_dsp_lcc API 80 [1094ms] Added 3 services [1094ms] Total: 1296 services, 197 classes [1094ms] Components loaded in: 0:00.133064 [1125ms] Pre config read [1156ms] Configuration read in: 0:00.034147 [1156ms] foobar2000 v2.1.5 x86 [portable] [1203ms] foo_youtube: [warning] madVR (external): [1203ms] foo_youtube: JavaScript (bundled.node): 5.12 [1203ms] foo_youtube: [error] LAV Filters (external): Splitter: %1 is not a valid Win32 application. [1203ms] foo_youtube: [error] LAV Filters (external): Video: %1 is not a valid Win32 application. [1203ms] foo_youtube: youtube-dl (external): 2023.10.13 [1203ms] foo_youtube: [warning] VSFilter (external): [1203ms] foo_youtube: [warning] could not load external ffmpeg: X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\1 Depedency\LAVFilters-0.77.2-x64\avutil-lav-57.dll: %1 is not a valid Win32 application [1203ms] foo_youtube: ffmpeg (internal): lavf 58.29.100, lavc 58.54.100, lavu 56.31.100 [1203ms] foo_youtube: libcurl (internal): libcurl/7.68.0 Schannel zlib/1.2.11 brotli/1.0.7 nghttp2/1.40.0 [1203ms] Watching: X:\3 A.2.1 Music\1 Listen\1.3 Video [1203ms] Watching: X:\3 A.2.1 Music\1 Listen\1.1 Genre [1938ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\config.sqlite [1938ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\crash reports\failure_00000039.dmp [1938ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\crash reports\failure_00000039.txt [1938ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\foo_youtube\cache\meta\meta+https---www.youtube.com-watch_v=2TVXi_9Bvlg.foo_youtube [1938ms] Library scanning problem: "X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\foo_youtube\cache\meta\meta+https---www.youtube.com-watch_v=2TVXi_9Bvlg.foo_youtube", reason: network is not yet initialized [1953ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E07B4FB000A371B6\content.sqlite [1953ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E0DB20EFAFCC8E5F\content.sqlite [1953ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\metadb.sqlite [1953ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\running [1953ms] Media library indexing: file://X:z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\wavecache.db [2203ms] UI Element instantiation failure: UI Element Not Found [2422ms] User Interface initialized in: 0:01.212693 [2438ms] Processing commandline [2438ms] initquit::init entry [2438ms] foo_enhanced_playcount: loaded [2453ms] FFmpeg version: 6.0 [2453ms] initquit::init exit [2453ms] beefweb: listening on [127.0.0.1]:8880 [2453ms] beefweb: listening on [::1]:8880 [2469ms] Playlist #0 loaded in 0:00.001779 [2469ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\config.sqlite [2469ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-error-log.txt [2469ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E07B4FB000A371B6\content.sqlite [2469ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E0DB20EFAFCC8E5F\content.sqlite [2469ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\running [2469ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\wavecache.db [2484ms] Startup time : 0:02.462428 [2500ms] Opening track for playback: "X:\Top Gun\Harold Faltermeyer and Steve Stevens - Top Gun Anthem (Unofficial Channel).mp3" [2516ms] myLibrary init [2734ms] myInitStageCallback init [2734ms] Playlist #1 loaded in 0:00.000231 [2734ms] Playlist #2 loaded in 0:00.000140 [2734ms] Playlist #3 loaded in 0:00.000331 [2734ms] Playlist #4 loaded in 0:00.000143 [2734ms] Playlist #5 loaded in 0:00.000164 [2734ms] Playlist #6 loaded in 0:00.000147 [2734ms] Playlist #7 loaded in 0:00.000112 [2766ms] setConfigFloat(core.totalTimePlayed,535880.0787698) [2797ms] Library initialized after 0:02.789072 [3000ms] Seekbar: taking GDI path. [3000ms] Seekbar: Frontend initialized. [3000ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\config.sqlite [3000ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E07B4FB000A371B6\content.sqlite [3000ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E0DB20EFAFCC8E5F\content.sqlite [3000ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\running [3000ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\version.txt [3000ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\wavecache.db [4047ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\config.sqlite [4047ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E07B4FB000A371B6\content.sqlite [4047ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E0DB20EFAFCC8E5F\content.sqlite [4047ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\running [4047ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\wavecache.db [5063ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\config.sqlite [5063ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E07B4FB000A371B6\content.sqlite [5063ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E0DB20EFAFCC8E5F\content.sqlite [5063ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\running [5063ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\wavecache.db [6625ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\config.sqlite [6625ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E07B4FB000A371B6\content.sqlite [6625ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E0DB20EFAFCC8E5F\content.sqlite [6625ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\running [6625ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\wavecache.db [8688ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\config.sqlite [8688ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\crash reports\failure_00000040.dmp [8688ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\crash reports\failure_00000040.txt [8688ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E07B4FB000A371B6\content.sqlite [8688ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\library-v2.0\E0DB20EFAFCC8E5F\content.sqlite [8688ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\running [8688ms] Media library indexing: file://X:\z Foobar2000\1 f2kv2Portable\profile\wavecache.db Machine specifications: OS: Windows 10.0.22621 x64 CPU: AMD Ryzen 5 3600 6-Core Processor, features: MMX SSE SSE2 SSE3 SSE4.1 SSE4.2 AVX LZCNT CPU threads: 12 Audio: Speakers (Realtek(R) Audio) 

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I am running Windows 11 but it says 10

Character name: Dylan T.
Age: 17
Gender: male
Appearance: Dylan is a man of Greek/Roman descent with tanned complexion and long brown hair, he often wears a light brown flannel, blue sleeveless shirt, and tan cargo pants often carrying medicinal items in his pockets for self treatment and first aid
Stand name: Bronze Gladiator
Stand appearance varies based on form
First: a bronze colored version of any weapon that was around during the time of gladiators
Second: armor appearing as a bronze golem, with Greek/Roman patterns adjourning its body.
First form: a slimmed down version of the second form due to Dylan not wearing it during an attack it yells out DYAH, its war cry, during a rush down attack it yells DA repeatedly before finishing with DYAHDAHA upon the final strike
Stand abilities vary with form
First: can summon a variety of gladiatorial weapons ranging from knuckle dusters to swords, to Warhammers, to bows, and many more, with a range of up to 30 meters with a bow this form can be used in tandem with the second or third form, and provides a mild strength and endurance enhancement
Second form: protects Dylan from attacks, when not used it repairs itself over time cannot be used at the same time as the third form. Can be used in tandem with the first form. Provides minor strength and endurance boost
Third form: is the manifestation of the stand itself with a range one 1-2 meters but can enhance its range using the first form, it can use any weapon summoned by the first form with the speed of a bullet and great precision, and has the durability of the second form. Should Dylan be rendered unconscious, Bronze gladiator will enter autonomy preventing any and all harm even with the intent of surgery, to the best of its ability. It does not provide the strength or endurance boost of the other two forms. Due to its semi-autonomous nature can be hard to control at times
Stats (first second and third forms respectively)
Power: (B, B, and A)
Speed: (B, C, and A)
Range: (B, D, and C)
Durability: (C, A, and A)
Precision: ( B, C, and A)
Potential: (B, B, and A)
User’s story On the surface Dylan T. is a youthful, cheery person that can border on naivety in social situations, under the surface and during intense combat Dylan is a stoic and calculating warrior. His early life he had a life goal of living a hardworking and self-sufficient life that his parents would be proud of and began a gladiatorial-like training at the age of six honing his strength, and discipline with his combat skills should trouble arise.
One summer at the age of nine he suffered a heat stroke and fell unconscious, glimpsing a bronze figure holding a shield above him to block the sun, moments later he was saved by water given to him by his parents. This was the development of his stand, he would soon discover the ability to summon weapons.
At fourteen, he discovered another stand user, who after testing Dylan and explaining how stands work, invited him to a small group dedicated to tracking stand users, maintaining contact with them, and bringing stand users together for the greater good. He quickly joins the group and is put to work taking down stand users corrupt with power or finding new stand users and reporting back what he learns. Eventually discovering the second form.
Age fifteen, he falls unconscious during combat and his allies witness the unrelenting force of the third form. When it brutalizes an enemy that attempted to kill Dylan while he was out. They began rigorous training on mastering this third form managing to gain some control over it after five months of training
Age seventeen: he now has manual control over the third form for short periods of time before it withdraws itself. And after many difficult battles he finally manages to apply his stand’s third form to real combat during a battle with a brutal warlord that can control shadows to make minions, force others to submit to his will, and launch blasts from shadows.
His parents are proud that he’s grown to be a peacekeeper, and has the self-sufficient home and hardworking life he’s dreamed of since the age of five, and he is a respected member of the group as its numbers continue to slowly grow. The group now named the Stand Alliance is beginning to catch the attention of the speedwagon foundation. What could happen next?
I created this character as a little project of mine and figured i’d immortalize it here. What are your thoughts and opinions of him?