Dry mouth low grade fever

guys have you seen the zane lowe interview with billie and finneas about hmhas???? (you can find it on youtube) at the very end he asks her "why did you say what you said at the end of the album?" (billie says "but when can i hear the next one?" at the end of blue) and billie just covers her mouth like 👀 and then they end the interview. i think billie said "um" and then zane goes "that's great" but you can tell they cut something maybe? but then that's the end of the interview WHAT DOES THIS MEAN ?!?! AISBAJABAISGABAH

On that morning, I found myself in a science class. The details of the assignment escape me now, for all that remains etched in my memory is the intense dread that was about to unfold. In the blink of an eye, everything changed. The events that ensued happened so quickly.
It was awesome in the way that it was awe-inspiring, but the awe was for the sheer magnitude of abject fear. Without warning, my ears popped from a sudden and drastic change in air pressure. In the following instant, a jarring rumble shook the entire classroom, accompanied by a deafening blast that robbed me of breath. Instinctively, we abandoned our unfinished finals and we hastily made our way toward the aisle between the rows of desks, surprisingly maintaining a semblance of order.
The blaring fire alarm pierced through the air as our teacher wasted no time in guiding us out of the classroom. I felt like a lamb lead to slaughter. We followed the teachers' lead, navigating the corridors toward the nearest exit. As I turned a corner, my mother's classroom came into full view, and what I beheld was a nightmare made manifest.
A surreal terror gripped me, freezing me in place. My mother's classroom door, blown off its hinges, lay against the opposing wall in a splintered heap. The space between the door and frame was filled with an enraged inferno, desperately and forcefully bellowing from within. I was the observer who was now left to bear witness to this wake.
I don't know what compelled me to charge into that blazing fortress. Was it a delusion of invincibility? A desperate belief that I could save her like a superhero? Or was it a simple act of need, driven by an unexplainable force? I cannot say.
I pushed through the wall of flames and smoke, and I descended the staircase in a manner fitting of an infant; erratic, frantic, and without coordination. And there, at the bottom step, an unusual coldness enveloped me. Though darkness cast by the smoke enveloped everything, a faint glimmer from a small window illuminated my mother's desk.
A person who was wailing in apparent agony was across the room, however. The acrid stench of burning flesh and hair assaulted my senses, threatening to overpower me. Gradually, my eyes adjusted to the darkness, granting me an unwelcome gift of sight. The horrifying images etched themselves deeply into my psyche—charred bodies strewn across the floor, their limbs twisted and contorted. Some still smoldered, consumed by thin lines of crimson crawling greedily along their blackened skin, reduced to ash.
The scene was catastrophic.
It was repulsive.
A nauseating sensation crept up from within, that familiar prelude to vomiting. I fought to suppress it, driven by a compelling instinct to find the crying emanating from an overturned desk in the far corner of the room.
"That must be my mom... she's still alive!" I thought so naively.
My path was obstructed by the lifeless forms of a classmates.Deep down, my gut warned me to leave the scene to my imagination, but I ignored its plea. Almost reaching the desk, my attention was drawn to yet another body lying in my path. This one was slightly larger than the others. It took only a moment to realize the unthinkable—this was my mother. Her right side was gruesomely absent, her eyes clouded with milky white, and her jaw hung slack. She had lost an arm... and a leg.
Dead.
My mother lay lifeless at my feet.
The sound of sobbing erupted again, originating from behind the desk. No discernible words, just heartbreaking sobs. Setting aside my grief for the moment, cloaked in shock, I left my mother's side to aid this person. The true magnitude of the disaster had not yet fully sunk in, the rationalization that no human could have survived.
The crying grew louder as I approached, echoing not only in my ears but in my thoughts. It drowned out the clamor of the alarms, urging me to forward. It was as if I had been ensnared in a waking dream, where the cries became my sole focus, blotting out everything else.
Reaching the desk, I cautiously peered behind it, my eyes drawn to a huddled figure in the corner. His blackened skin mirrored the others, and he possessed little remaining hair. Tremors coursed through his body as he faced the wall, his arms extended limply, hands hanging delicately from his forearms.
"HEY," I yelled, "We have to get out! There's a gas leak!" No response. Perhaps the explosion had damaged his hearing.
Instinctively, I reached out and grasped his hand. The moment our skin made contact, the crying ceased, and the tremors subsided. A new sense of startled unease washed over me. Slowly, he began to turn his head towards me, his neck moving with jerky, disjointed snaps. And then, I beheld his face. Wet leathery skin clung to his emaciated skull, while his wide eyes, milky grey and white, mirrored my mother's. Through a slackened jaw, browned teeth peered out of a mouth devoid of lips. His broken nose sat withered upon his face. His leathery skin continued down his nude and skeletal frame, with patches peeling off, revealing a putrid yellow fluid oozing from the infected wounds.
I stood there in shock, witnessing his convulsions and heaves. His head, rocking like that of a newborn, fixated on me. He took a long ragged, strained breath and released a sound unlike anything I had ever heard before. No, that's not the right way to describe it. The sound triggered a sensation within me, a feeling that wasn't entirely my own. I was engulfed by an overwhelming grief, an intense pain that consumed me entirely. Guilt as I had never known flooded me, threatening to drown me in its depths.
I recoiled from the desk, stumbling backward until I fell onto my mother's charred remains. A cloud of ash billowed forth, caressing my face as I gasped for air. I inadvertently inhaled the plume of my mother's ash. I vomited, tears and bile streaming uncontrollably. I began crawling on hands and knees as I distanced myself from the nightmare.
I crawled, then ran once I regained my footing. I ran out of that room, through the engulfing flames, through the school, and past my bewildered classmates.
Just keep running.
Eventually, I collapsed in a local park, where the police discovered me. I remember the cold, crisp grass caressing my face, leaving behind wet stains from its melting lash.
The officer who found me sat silently beside me in the field, offering no words of advice or encouragement but his simple presence was comforting in hindsight. He didn't rush me even when we both were shivering to our core once the cold lay with our bones.While the officer drove me home, I awoke to a reality that felt both distant and surreal. The following year slipped away in a haze, an amalgamation of twisting memories and blurred moments.
I found myself residing in my mother's home, under the temporary custody of my aunt and uncle. My aunt handed me a substantial sum of cash from the life insurance payout. It was an overwhelming amount for a seventeen-year-old to possess while grappling with the weight of responsibility. I failed so miserably.
The passing months merged, as if time itself was nothing more than a fleeting illusion. I teetered on the precipice, constantly oscillating between moments of intoxication and near unconsciousness. My days were spent in a perpetual state of chasing a fragile equilibrium. And so, as predictable and anticlimactic as it may sound, I succumbed to the overwhelming grip of a heroin overdose.
It was my aunt who discovered me in that state, a sight she never deserved to witness. She was far too good to be exposed to the wretchedness that had consumed me.
Preparing the syringe, I found a suitable vein, and sent the liquid bliss coursing through my veins. Was it my fifth hit? Sixth? More than I had ever done before. The rush surged through my body with an intensity I couldn't handle. My balance faltered, and I collapsed onto the couch, my head spinning in a disorienting haze. I slipped into unconsciousness, unaware of the vomit that spilled forth from my mouth. At the moment, I believe I was on the brink of death.
I vaguely remember my aunt's scream as she walked through the front door. I'm sure I looked just like the death I was longing for.
Rehabilitation became an inevitable path I had to tread, accompanied by a watchful eye to prevent any further harm. I grappled with a profound sense of worthlessness, despite the earnest efforts of those around me. Weeks bled into months, and progress towards my recovery became a slow, agonizing burn. No matter the tools and coping mechanisms I acquired, no matter the mental acrobatics I performed, I found myself sinking deeper into the abyss.
The insidious cravings for substances clung to my heart with sickening tenacity.
Over the following year, I retreated into seclusion. Depression became my constant companion, blurring the days together into an indistinguishable haze. I traded one vice for countless others, escaping reality through endless hours of pornography and video games, despising every fiber of my existence late into the solitary nights. Even in sleep, I found no respite.
My nights were tormented by relentless nightmares, unyielding in their pursuit of stealing away what little rest I had left. At my emotional nadir, I ceased to care for even my most basic needs. My body, an instrument of survival, was now perpetually hunched, bent by the weight of my deteriorating state. I had become a repugnant wreck, a physical manifestation of the turmoil within my mind. I was a mirror reflecting the distorted image of my decayed mentality.
The battle against my demons was impossible, and I was losing myself in the process. My life soon embarked on a transformative journey though, emerging from the tattered remnants of an existence that had unwittingly become my solace.
It began with a simple spark, an eruption of laughter that echoed through the air.
It was not a mere chuckle or a fleeting smirk; it was a belly-deep laugh that reverberated within me. The sound itself felt foreign, stirring a mixture of confusion and exhilaration. At that moment, I felt an immense pride swell within me.
Soon after, I shed my former self, transitioning from a reanimated corpse to an animated being. My newfound addiction became growth, and I pursued it with unwavering fervor. I constructed a fortress, a barricade capable of withstanding the relentless onslaught of my mind. I tamed the internal chaos that had consumed me, gradually reclaiming control over my destiny. With every step, I crawled my way up that treacherous mountain, resolute and unyielding.
Knowing that I had to venture beyond the confines of my childhood home to nurture my emotional development, I made a decision without hesitation. I relinquished my home to my aunt, packed my belongings, and began a new chapter with a journey to Florida.
I found refuge in a modest vacation cabin nestled amidst the serenity of the Everglades. I resided in splendid isolation. There were no neighbors for miles around, and the land I occupied belonged to a kind couple who were seldom present. The cabin was ensconced within a dense, humid forest—a lush sanctuary that provided me ample opportunity to confront my innermost thoughts, contributing to the arduous path of my recovery. Though the reclusive lifestyle persisted, I reveled in newfound freedom. The forest that encircled me was a testament to nature's magnificence.
It thrived with resplendent beauty, teeming with life and vibrant hues. The symphony of birdsong permeated the air, intertwining with the gentle hum of insects as the sun gracefully bid farewell to the sky, descending beyond the western horizon. It was a captivating contrast to the desolate nights I had once known. Occasionally, I would venture to an ocean-fed creek a mere stone's throw away from my dwelling, indulging in the peaceful art of fishing.
It was precisely what I had yearned for.
My life had become my own once again. Though the memories of that fateful night still carried a tinge of pain, they had become more bearable, more manageable. I was on the cusp of uttering those elusive words: "I am happy."
Until the nightly lamentations returned, the anguished cries piercing the silence, a relentless reminder of the entity that hunted me.
Sleep became an elusive luxury, for as darkness descended, the haunting wails shattered any chance of rest. The cries persisted, growing louder with each passing week. They invaded my sleepless nights, penetrating the silence of my room. I lay there, consumed by desperation, pleading for the torment to cease.
The cries filled my head and blocked out everything. It forced me to feel a torrent of forgotten pain. My barricade was fracturing. My rancor was waking up. My war returned with a windfall that left me breathless.
I broke so quickly.
So quietly.
Like sand in the palm of my hands, my joy slipped away through my fingers. My laugh died in my throat. The cries became a force that unleashed a deluge of forgotten anguish, shattering the barricade I had erected. Fatigue wore me down, transforming me into a mere shadow of my former self.
I became a captive in my mind. Yet, within the depths of my despair, a spark of hope still waivered amidst the chaos. I vowed to confront the source of this nocturnal torment, to unravel its strangling grip on my life. Then, one fateful night, I stirred from a nap that had inadvertently consumed me.
A strange sensation tugged at my mind, rousing me from my slumber. The room was shrouded in an eerie silence, the clock displaying the time as 1:26 am. With a sense of cautious curiosity, I rose from my seat and made my way toward the front door, spurred by a newfound audacity.
Perhaps I believed that by directly confronting this apparition, I could dispel my fears and bring an end to my relentless experience.
That night, the air was eerily calm, devoid of the usual screams. I pressed my face against the small window on the door, peering into the darkness beyond, half-expecting to find only an indistinct shadow. But to my astonishment, there it stood, staring back at me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. Our faces were separated by a mere fraction of an inch of glass, locked in a macabre face-to-face encounter. A cacophony of screams erupted, shattering the once-tranquil air and sending tremors through the very foundation of my home.
The feeble glow from the kitchen illuminated his face, etching its haunting contours deep within the recesses of my mind. His quivering jaw moved erratically, a grotesque dance of opening and closing with each labored breath. Each exhale birthed a clinging mist, smearing the glass with intricate patterns reminiscent of inkblots, transforming its pristine surface into a testament of eerie artistry.
His vacant eyes remained fixed ahead, devoid of recognition as if ensnared within the merciless clutches of unyielding madness. With unsteady steps, he gradually retreated, his form eventually shrinking into a crouched position mere feet away from my door. There was no denying the undeniable presence before me. Fear, curiosity, and a twisted fascination intertwined within me, forming a turbulent whirlwind of conflicting impulses.
Who was he? What did he want? Questions plagued my mind, but answers eluded me. It was as if this apparition had materialized from the depths of my darkest nightmares, haunting my reality with its unsettling presence.
Though an unsettling truth sat within me, there was no denying the raw reality of his existence. This was no figment of my imagination; it was a chilling encounter with a realm beyond comprehension. My scream tore through the air, an instinctual response fueled by a surge of primal emotions. No coherent words could encapsulate the overwhelming turmoil within me.
I had escaped across the country to flee from this torment, yet here it was, huddled just feet away, mocking my desperate attempt at solace.
It felt like a cruel joke my own mind was playing on me. "LEAVE ME ALONE!" I shouted, my voice cracking as tears streamed down my face.
"PLEASE, JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!" My cries resembled the agonized wails of a wounded and trapped animal, raw and untamed.
Outside, the creature continued its relentless screams, rising to its feet with an eerie, disjointed movement. It approached my door, its contorted posture resembling a grotesque bending of the body, skin tearing as it leaned. Yellow fluid oozed from its wounds.
"LEAVE ME ALONE!" I yelled again, unleashing a surge of pent-up emotion that had been dormant for far too long.
But my plea fell upon rotting ears that could not comprehend or sympathize. It reached my door. I had rehearsed this moment in my mind during my early days in the forest.
Over and over, I had imagined how I would confront and eradicate this embodiment of my deteriorating sanity. Suicide was not my desire, but I had chosen this entity as the symbol of my mental decline, the entity that needed to be eliminated. Driven by panic and instinct, I grabbed the fire axe hanging above my table, my body moving mechanically as I propelled myself toward the barrier that separated us. A wordless scream of terror, revulsion, and hatred erupted from deep within me as I crashed through the door, my clenched teeth unable to contain the overwhelming intensity of my emotions.
The creature was struck by the door, its body forcefully pushed backward, eliciting a feral gasp from its throat. Now, I was determined to end it.
"Kill it." "Kill me." "Candle." "KILL." The words reverberated in an unsettling loop within my mind, out of sync with each other, fueling my purpose as I prepared to face the culmination of my anguish.
In a whirlwind of uncontrolled movement, I tumbled down the steps, my body flailing as I crashed onto the unyielding ground. Before I could fully process the fall, I found myself on my feet, instinctively rising without conscious thought.
And there it was, face to face with me, its breath uncomfortably warm and sticky against my skin. The putrid stench of decay invaded my nostrils, causing me to recoil in fear and repulsion. Backing up until I was pressed against the wall of my house, I felt my courage waver, my resolve crumble. I realized I was not strong enough, not capable of facing this. Then, it screamed, convulsed, and trembled before me, its milky eyes fixed on an unseen horizon.
Its hands stretched out, reaching for something beyond my comprehension. With that scream, a surge of courage and rage flooded my being. It was the same as it had been all those years ago in the school, an overwhelming flood of emotions that were not truly mine to feel.
It's difficult to articulate, but I embodied those emotions and allowed them to engulf me, to consume me.
"Kill."
The word reverberated relentlessly in my mind. Springing forward with a primal scream, I swung the axe with all my might, the blade sinking deep into its side. The sensation of bone deflecting the force of my strike is etched into my memory, never to be forgotten.
Blood and other fluids sprayed from the wound as it took a few faltering steps to the side, pushed by the momentum of my assault. The creature ceased its cries, its tremors, its breath. Time stood still as it finally turned to look at me. Fear rooted me in place, holding me captive in its gaze. We stared at each other, locked in a moment that felt like an eternity.
Foul breath washed over me once more, seeping into my senses. Beyond that, nothing happened. We simply stood there, locked in a silent exchange. I willed my frozen bones to thaw, my mind transitioning from terror and frenzied rage to... something else.
It wasn't pride, but rather a different, indescribable emotion. Yet, it carried a sense of triumph, I believe.
Unbeknownst to me, it had reached out and gently grasped my arm, its touch going unnoticed until it began to speak.
"I never... meant to... scare you..." he rasped, his voice torn and ragged, struggling to emerge between shallow breaths. "I'm sorry... this has to... happen to... you..." its words filled with agony and desperation. Tears welled up in its eyes, a flicker of pain crossing its face as its ragged hand clutched at the axe lodged in its new laceration. "Please... kill... me..." he wheezed, his plea reverberating in my mind and reaching my ears simultaneously. With its other hand, it gripped the axe and brought the blade to its neck. "Kill me... candle... kill. NOW!"
The final word echoed like an explosion within my head as its hand pressed against my face. Everything plunged into darkness for a fragmented moment as I swung the axe. Suddenly, I felt myself hurtling through space, a void engulfing me. The air grew cold, and the wind whipped past, intensifying the disorienting descent.
I screamed in a frenzy of confusion and terror, my voice lost in the abyss. Downward I plummeted, faster and faster, the nauseating sensation overwhelming me. In the distance, far below, a growing light pierced through the darkness. Fresh tears streamed down my face, blurring my vision and making it difficult to gauge the proximity of the light, and how much time remained before I would be halted by the unforgiving ground. But it was rapidly approaching.
I squeezed my eyes shut, unleashing a defiant scream that echoed through the void. In the face of imminent death, I summoned every ounce of defiance within me. "I want to live." The words echoed in my mind, a fervent plea repeating like a mantra. I curled into a protective ball, bracing myself for the impending impact that would mark my brutal end.
Seconds stretched into eternity as I awaited the inevitable. Then, with a soft and gentle thud, I collided with the ground, the impact far less severe than anticipated. A feeble whimper escaped me, carrying away the remnants of my shattered pride. Slowly, I uncoiled my limbs and remained still, a mix of confusion and exhaustion paralyzing me.
Was this death? Or had I somehow managed to survive? At the very least, I was conscious. I reached out with my hands, feeling the texture of the hardwood floor beneath me. Rolling onto my back, I extended my arms as far as they would go, searching for walls that eluded my touch, instead only finding a formless nothingness. I released a weak, triumphant sigh, throwing my arm in the air, and darkness claimed me once more, my consciousness slipping away.
When I awoke, I found myself in an unfamiliar hallway, illuminated by an ethereal light. Glancing around from my position on the floor, I took in the details of my surroundings. The hallway stretched endlessly in both directions, its warped and aged dark wood floors covered in a thick layer of dust.
On each side of me, two doors stood, adorned with handles veiled in shadows. Illuminated by flickering candles, the doors cast dancing shadows on the faded white paint. Ornate red and gold walls framed the hall, extending into the distance without interruption.
The air hung still, thin, and cold, creating an atmosphere of eerie stillness. Summoning my strength, I pushed myself upright, drawing a reflexive breath, only to find that my lungs refused to cooperate. I couldn't draw in the air, an unsettling revelation that further shook my already fragile state. Yet, amidst the disquietude, an unexpected acceptance settled upon me.
"Maybe I truly am dead," I mused, "and perhaps this is limbo or some other realm beyond the realm of the living."
Standing before the doors, I reached out and brushed off the accumulated dust, my fingers tracing patterns on the bronzed knobs. With hopeful anticipation, I attempted to turn the knob of the door on my right, but it remained resolute, refusing to yield.
Disheartened, I turned my attention to the door on my left, hoping for a different outcome. Yet, once again, my efforts proved fruitless. The doors remained firmly shut, denying me entry. A sense of resignation settled over me as I contemplated the possibility that I had indeed entered a realm of limbo or purgatory, where the deceased wander aimlessly, seeking answers and respite.
If there were lessons to be learned or tasks to be fulfilled, I had yet to discover them. But the absence of purpose, the prospect of eternal nothingness, weighed heavily on my soul. With a deep breath, I made the conscious decision to venture further into the darkness, forsaking the dwindling light behind me. Hours turned into an indeterminate passage of time as I traversed the boundless corridor, my hand tracing the cold surface of the wall for guidance.
Fatigue and hunger eluded me, further reinforcing the notion that I had in fact died.
If this was the extent of my existence, an eternal cycle of aimless wandering, I yearned for something more. The prospect of mere nothingness, devoid of purpose or meaning, felt like a reality abandoned by the gods themselves. Determination and desperation mingled within me, urging me to maintain my pace and to keep moving forward despite the gnawing uncertainty.
And then, a sudden burst of light ruptured the darkness behind me, catching me off guard. The icy tendrils of fear gripped my chest, causing me to flail and stumble, my yelp swallowed by the void. With a surprising display of grace, I rolled with the fall and swiftly turned around, propelled by a desperate longing. Desperation fueled my actions as I lunged for the handle of the nearest door, seeking an anchor to halt my momentum.
The handle remained steadfast, unyielding, as it abruptly halted my chaotic trajectory. Reality began to fracture, the veil of ignorance slowly lifting. Could I truly be dead? The realization dawned upon me, shattering the feeble illusion of safety and acceptance.
I wasn't okay. I wasn't safe. The weight of my unease bore down upon me, threatening to consume what little resolve remained. In the face of uncertainty, I whispered the truth that echoed within my being:
"I'm not okay."
With a surge of determination, I clutched the doorknob with both hands, pouring every ounce of strength into my attempt to pry it open. I threw my weight against the door, pulled, hit, kicked, and pleaded in a desperate frenzy.
But the door remained steadfast, unyielding to my relentless assault. Exhausted and defeated, I crumpled against the door, collapsing to my knees, and buried my face in my folded arms. The tears flowed freely once again as a sense of hopelessness enveloped me.
What was the point? There was nowhere to go, no escape from this interminable realm. I was trapped, imprisoned within my own personal purgatory. This was my punishment.
I rolled onto my side, curling into a tight ball, clutching my legs close to my chest. I surrendered to the inertia that consumed me. I ceased all efforts, resigned to my fate. Time lost all meaning as I lay there, motionless, accumulating layers of dust upon my immobile body.
Months or perhaps years passed in this stagnant state. The weight of my surrender bore down upon me, and I grew stagnant in body and spirit.
But amidst the stillness, a small voice emerged from the depths of my being, offering shards of defiance. It urged me to continue, questioning why I should give up. The relentless nagging of that voice eroded the staleness of my resolve.
And so, with great effort, I yielded to the persistent beckoning within. I began to stir, my brittle bones creaking and cracking in response to the tentative movements. Every inch of my being protested, muscles screaming in protest, as I defied the inertia that had held me captive. The desire for something different, something more, ignited within me.
My body clung stubbornly to the remnants of my self-imposed stagnation, resisting the momentum of my will. But I knew I had to move. "Just move." I whispered those two simple words to myself, a mantra to defy the stillness.
And with each painful twitch and every tear in my flesh, I pressed forward, compelled by the belief that there had to be more to this existence. The hallway, once shrouded in darkness, was now ablaze with the furious glow of burning candles, illuminating every inch of the endless walls adorned with white doors.
Shielding my eyes from the searing exposure, I recoiled from the scorching heat that radiated from the flames. The blinding light pierced through the cracks between my fingers, growing in intensity with each passing moment. But as I cautiously peered through the gaps in my fingers, a sight greeted me that filled my heart with renewed hope.
There, at the end of the hallway, lay a continuation beyond the confines I had known. A surge of determination coursed through my veins, igniting a fire within my soul. Clinging to the wall for support, I willed my feeble legs to carry me forward, pushing past the pain that resonated with each step. I moved with a shaky shuffle that evolved into a stiff, determined speed walk.
In retrospect, I can only imagine the nightmarish image I presented. But at that moment, all I wanted was to reach the end, to embrace the promise it held.
With each passing door, I caught glimpses of their numbered plaques. 37, 39, 41, 43... The numbers ascended, propelling me forward as I squeezed my eyes shut, running with unwavering determination. The intensity of the light multiplied, searing through my closed eyelids, triggering a symphony of pain that reverberated through every fiber of my being.
Perhaps I should have gauged the distance to the end, but in my blind pursuit, I collided with the wall with a resounding thud. The impact broke my nose, sending shockwaves of agony coursing through me, and I tumbled to the floor, disoriented and wounded.
As my body sprawled upon the ground, the once-illuminated candles in the hallway extinguished one by one, enveloping the space behind me in impenetrable darkness.
Yet, amidst the obscurity, one candle remained defiantly aflame—the candle beside the door labeled #158. Its flickering glow drew my gaze, anchoring me to the present. Candle. The word reverberated within the recesses of my mind, its significance echoing relentlessly. And then, like a distant echo from the past, a strained and familiar voice permeated my thoughts.
"Kill Candle," it urged, a haunting reminder of the encounters I had faced. The voice, bearing the same ragged quality that had sent chills down my spine before, emerged from the darkness, piercing the silence with its command.
A low, ominous rumble stirred in the distance, a sound foreign and unsettling to my ears. It started as a mere murmur, barely perceptible, but gradually swelled in volume, intensifying with each passing moment. The air itself seemed to thicken with unsettling energy, a growing force that permeated the surroundings. It was the sound of impending doom, a creeping darkness that threatened to swallow everything in its path. As the rumble resonated through the depths of my being, a profound unease settled within me.
It crawled beneath my skin, coiling around my bones with a chilling grip. The sensation of impending nothingness clawed at my very core, filling me with a deep-seated dread. It was a fear unlike any I had ever experienced, a realization that I stood at the precipice of an inevitable and irrevocable end.
The weight of this knowledge settled heavily in the pit of my stomach, a visceral stab of anxiety that sent tremors through my entire being. It was a fallible end, an abrupt cessation that promised a complete and utter halt to existence.
Each passing second amplified the intensity of this foreboding, like a storm gathering strength before it unleashes its fury. The world around me seemed to hold its breath as if bracing for the impending collision with an unimaginable void. In the face of this encroaching darkness, I stood transfixed, caught between fight and flight. The rumble grew louder, reverberating with an eerie resonance as if the very fabric of reality quivered under its weight.
It was a sound that defied explanation, an insidious reminder of the fragility of existence. And as the seconds ticked by, each one laden with a mounting sense of doom, I could not shake the feeling that something irrevocable was drawing near.
With trembling hands, I clutched the doorknob, desperately trying to twist it open. But it remained stubbornly locked, unmoving against my frantic efforts. The rumble grew louder, reverberating through the corridor, an unstoppable force closing in on me. Panic surged within me, urging me to shake the door with wild desperation.
But still, it resisted, unyielding to my futile attempts. "Kill. Candle." The words thundered in my mind, echoing over the impending chaos that threatened to consume me. It was a command, a directive to extinguish the flame. In a moment of clarity amidst the chaos, I realized what I had to do. I reached out, smothering the candle's flame with my bare hand.
And at last, the door swung open, as if I had unlocked an ethereal barrier. But as the door gave way, I was violently thrust forward, pulled into the void that lay beyond. The deafening roar receded, replaced by a disorienting rush of motion as I spun and flailed, completely at the mercy of the unseen forces at play. Control slipped from my grasp once more, leaving me to surrender to the unknown. Abruptly, the tumult ceased, and I found myself standing outside my own house, a surreal tableau frozen in time.
There, I witnessed an enigmatic moment, a version of myself suspended mid-swing, the axe poised to strike the creature's neck. It was a fractured moment of the reality I had left behind, a moment frozen in space and time.
Taking a hesitant step forward, I was abruptly hurled back into my own body, the fractured fragments of my existence reuniting. Time resumed its course, and I felt the weight of the axe as it carried out its intended purpose.
The blade connected with a solid, metallic impact, tearing a new rift in the fabric of reality. I was again plunged into a jarring darkness, the whirlwind of confusion was the only thing familiar anymore. My axe had struck something tangible, something solid.
The musty scent of familiarity, reminiscent of my high school days, filled the air, punctuating the otherwise suffocating silence. In an instant, my vision returned, but with a disorienting rush accompanied by dizzying vertigo.
I found myself standing in the classroom where my mother used to teach, a place I hadn't set foot in for years. Confusion clouded my thoughts as I turned my gaze to the left, and there she was, my mother, staring at me in disbelief.
A collective gasp rose from the students, their eyes fixed upon me with a mixture of fear and horror. The weight of their stares pressed upon me, making me acutely aware of the unusual circumstances I found myself in. At that moment, my attention was drawn to my own hands in an unfitting sense of embarrassment. And there, I noticed the axe embedded in the gas line, emitting an ominous hiss that sliced through the eerie silence.
My eyes darted back to my mother, and on her desk, illuminated by a solitary burning candle, my gaze fixated. The word echoed relentlessly in my mind, its significance growing with each repetition.
"Candle. The candle. The candle..."
In a reflexive surge of urgency, I released my grip on the axe, discarding any semblance of thought, and propelled myself toward the desk, driven by a desperate need to extinguish the flame.
But my efforts were in vain, for as my fingers reached out, a catastrophic chain of events unfurled before me. In an instant, the classroom erupted in a fierce conflagration, an inferno that devoured everything in its path. The sheer force of the explosion shook the very foundation of reality, hurling me against a wall, my body crumpling behind a nearby desk.
Charred and broken, my form bore the scars of the blast, yet my consciousness stubbornly clung on. I felt pain unparalleled to any other I'd experienced so far. Amid the chaos, I gathered myself and began to crawl toward my mother's mangled figure. She lay there, torn asunder, yet desperately still clinging to life.
With every ounce of strength left in me, I painstakingly dragged my injured body toward her, my movements a testament to sheer determination. My hand reached out, seeking connection, but instead encountered a severed limb.
Undeterred, I reached my mother and she extended her remaining arm, seizing my hand with a desperate grasp, our bond unbroken even in the face of such devastation. "Mom!" I sobbed, my voice choked with anguish. Tears streamed down my face as I knelt over her broken form. "Mom... I'm sorry!" I cried out, my words punctuated by deep sobs.
"I'm so sorry, Mom!"
Her eyes met mine, and in that delicate moment, she mustered all she had to utter a sweet whisper. "I love you," she managed, a feeble attempt at a smile gracing her lips.
But as her grip weakened, her hand slipped away, surrendering to the pull of gravity. I collapsed once more, pressing my head against her scorching shoulder, the flames from her burning clothes licking at my tear-soaked eyes.
At that moment, the searing pain of loss eclipsed any physical pain I might have felt. A surge of bile rose in my throat as the full weight of the tragedy unfolded upon me. The realization struck with cruel clarity—I hadn't succeeded in extinguishing the candle.
I had failed once again, repeating the cycle for the 158th time. The weight of my failure bore down on me, crushing my soul into a cloud of fine dust to be carried away with the hellfire that consumed my surroundings. I needed to escape from the desolation I had wrought.
Crawling on hands stained with her blood, I retreated to the corner of the room, seeking refuge behind a desk. My arms hung limply at my sides, my body trembling with a mixture of guilt and revulsion. I didn't want to touch anything, especially not myself. I recoiled from my own skin, my hands, the instruments of her demise. I wanted to shed my skin as it pressed its decrepit form ever closer to my heart.
"I killed my mom," I whispered, the words heavy with self-condemnation. I trembled uncontrollably, consumed by my otherworldly screams of anguish and sorrow that shattered the air. Suddenly, a voice pierced the chaos from behind me.
"Hey!" it yelled urgently. "We have to get out! There's a gas leak!" A hand reached out and grabbed mine. As I turned to face the source, a jolt of recognition coursed through me—I was staring at myself. Another version of me, yet somehow different, younger. At that moment, I realized with terror that I had become the embodiment of the nightmare.
I screamed a primal cry of disgust and horror, forcing the other me to retreat in a frightened flurry. Days have passed since then.
I write these words with dwindling autonomy, pleading for help, for someone to find me, the other me.
Find him. I beg you, whoever reads this, to search for him, and tell him what he must do. Please, tell me what I must do. The grip on my self-control weakens with each passing moment. The relentless compulsion to find the other version of myself consumes my every thought. I fear I can no longer hold myself back for another day. I need to give you more time. I need more time. He needs to break this cycle.
He must reach the candle.

Hello y’all. I usually don’t post on Reddit. But I actually DON’T. But today I feel different and I’m open to all opinions.
A small backstory. I’m a 31 year old male who works a fairly okay job in Illinois. I didn’t grow up having my parents, but I had my auntie and uncle and other family members including my sister to try and guide me. They’ve done their best to try and assist me with life but sometimes I still feel so behind. There’s so much I’ve had to learn on my own due to all of them being significantly older and they can only do so much for me, which is something I understand and never try to question, just appreciate.
I’ve spent a lot of time moving from house to house growing up until about 5/6th grade but I’ve gone through some things in my childhood that I feel as if have affected me as a man til this day and I’ve been trying to shake the past but it feels daunting even trying to confront these things. I’ve always been a to myself type of person, a few friends but not so much of a solid circle so it’s limited on who I feel as if I can confide in.
Lately I’ve been feeling just in a rut trying to find out who I am. My job is okay but it feels redundant as of now nor is it enough. I’m bad with being financially responsible but I’ve been TRYING to get better getting myself a HYSA this year. I’ve been in debt for so long but I’m trying to improve, recently paying off a $6000 credit card but i have 2 more to go. I just feel like sometimes I’m running low and tired all the time. I really don’t want to tell my friends or family because I don’t want to stress them out or have to worry. I feel like I’ve been fighting an uphill battle my whole life and at 31 I feel worn out sometimes. Defeated some days. I haven’t had fun in a long time because I want to actually be in a good spot mentally. I want better for myself but some days I feel powerless. I want to be able to provide but I feel.. weighed down.
There’s so much more to say here but this will probably be my first and last post on here.
Sorry if this is such a long explanation and all over the place but I just felt the need to express myself and I’m wondering how anyone else has dealt with or has had these feelings before.
Appreciate y’all. Be blessed.

I bought flexseal underwater tape, gorrilla vinyl underwater tape and a proper pool repair kit with heavy duty vinyl and glue from lowes.
All 3 instantly becomes non sticky as soon as my wet hand touches it. If I try to apply under water they immedately just curl up and refuse to stick. If I let them dry out on the deck they become sticky again.
My pool water is perfectly balanced according to my test strips. I do add Leslies Pefect weekly treatment does that have something to do with it? Pefect Weekly

Credit to u/SpacePaladin15 for the NOP Universe.
Hey, I hope everyone's doing well!
Today we return to the namesake of this fic, an actual lesson about animals. This one focuses on Koalas! One of Australia's most recognisable critters. I hope you enjoy.
It's hardly worth mentioning, seeing as I'm an infrequent poster at the best of times, but I'll not have another chapter out for a few weeks due to limited free time and devoting most of my writing time to an upcoming ficnapping. Be sure to look out for that!
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Memory transcription subject: Rysel, Venlil Environmental Researcher
Date [Standardised human time]: 8th September 2136
“Koalas!”
Bernard’s energised voice boomed through the air as the classroom's monitor flickered into life, images of this paws lecture topic popping up one after the other until the entire screen was filled with a collage of furry quadrupeds.
Squee! I’ll never get tired of this, it’s all so cool!
As usual the sight of something new stirred immediate discussion, hushed murmurs swelling into vibrant discourse in little more than a heartbeat. Most of the class swiftly huddled together into small herds to bounce ideas around while the rest opted to stick to the solace of their own thoughts as they took in the display.
I’d be quite happy in either situation, though seeing as Sandi had already sunk into deep concentration and Kailo had peeled off to talk with Ennerif and Solenk, it seemed the decision had been made for me on this occasion. Wasting no more time on idle inspection of the people around me, I focused my full attention forward, eager to form first impressions before the lesson began in earnest.
Now then, time to make some educated guesses. What traits does this animal have? I wonder if I’ll get any right this paw?
Professional assumptions went paw-in-paw with the lectures, examining and coming up with hypotheses about the specimens was only natural. Recently however, I’d started to make a little game of it to make things even more interesting than usual. A veritable bonfire of ideas had been set ablaze within me, fueled by my newfound knowledge of Earthen wildlife. Every flash and spark of the flame was a fresh theory I could try to apply to the lectures. It was an invigorating exercise that further stoked my unceasing wonderment.
So far I’d only done this once during the previous class and, to my disappointment, I’d not done too well.
I was right when I guessed that chickens were omnivores, but wrong in my assumption that they could fly. And that red thing on their head, the um… what was it called? The comb! Yes, the comb. I thought that was to attract mates, but it regulates body heat instead. It’s fascinating. Oh! Stars damn it I’m rambling!
I bapped my tail against my leg, the soft thud being just enough to snap me back from my runaway thoughts before I went completely wall-eyed. I was becoming more and more accustomed to getting lost in my own head while remaining conscious of the fact; it was happening so frequently now that it was pretty much impossible not to. Now I was able to pull myself back to the world around me without having to rely on someone else shaking me out of it. Most of the time anyway.
Sandi still keeps an eye on me, and Kailo even decided to help out once without being too snide about it. Anyway where was I? Oh yeah, Koalas.
Glancing at the furred animals, two things immediately stood out. Firstly, their eyes were in a more central position on their face. And second, all the images showed them being on or close to trees. There were other noteworthy observations of course, such as the Koala’s prominent nose and rounded features, but they fell to the wayside as I honed in on these points first.
Hmmm… ok. I already know to discount the idea that they’re predators just from eye position, so let’s get that thought out of here. Maybe omnivorous? Herbivore? Agh no, I can’t just guess that for the sake of guessing, that’s the same problem! Hrm, it’s tough making these assumptions now that everything I thought I knew has been turned on its head.
Nevermind, I’ll focus on the other thing. All the trees make me think they’re arboreal, that seems to be a reasonable assumption. I wonder what else they-
Clearing his throat, Bernard broke my concentration, his call for attention silencing the murmuring conversation and redirecting everyone's focus to the lecturer's podium.
His gaze panned across the room as he waited for everyone to settle, a beaming smile lighting up his face, “As ever I’m delighted to see you all get so into the subject matter from the get go. I’m looking forward to hearing what you were discussing should you wish to share. For now though, how about we get started, hm?”
A chorus of merry bleats rang out from across the audience, ears and tails flicking happily in agreement. Bernard's grin grew in tandem with the class's fervour, clasping his hands together enthusiastically as he launched into the lesson, “Excellent! Then let’s get started.”
The pictures on screen dissolved away until only one remained, enlarging to cover the entire monitor with the fluffy grey face of a Koala peacefully reclining in the crook of a tree.
“Ah, there we are,” Bernard’s baritone timbre drifted through the room as he looked up at the image, his own tone reflecting the relaxed attitude of the animal on screen, “He looks so comfortable doesn’t he? Perfectly at peace with the world, not too surprising considering they sleep almost 20 hours a day. A full paw!”
A wave of beeps and gasps rippled through the herd, punctuated by a single yawn-dressed comment from Rova, “A full paw? Hwuuu… jealous.”
Her drowsy remark elicited several whistling giggles from the herd, Bernard's own jovial chortle joining them as he turned to face her, “Late evening Rova?”
I twisted a little in my seat, panning an eye in Rova’s direction just in time to see her bleary eyes bulge open and her ears shoot up, now intensely aware of the fact she hadn’t been as quiet as she thought she had.
Sitting up abruptly, she hastily tapped down errant tufts of wool that’d flared in surprise as she composed herself, though her nervousness at becoming the centre of the class's attention was still plain for all to hear, “Uh- I um… achem, a little bit yes, um- …sorry. Lokki dragged me out to a movie viewing in the rec centre. It went on pretty late.”
A melodramatic bray from the other side of the room drew everyone's ears away from Rova to the now aghast Lokki, paw splayed across his chest in faux indignation, “Dragged you? Well excuse me for trying to broaden your horizons with human movies. That’ll be the list time I- …Ahaaaa…”
Lokki’s theatrics were cut short by a heavy yawn of his own, a swell of whistling laughter rolling through the herd as vibrant bloom lit up his snout, a sight that elicited a particularly amused bleat from Rova.
Turning away from the duo I looked back at Bernard, pleased to see that he was chuckling along with us. Behaviour like Lokki’s would never have been tolerated in my school and university days but, in stark contrast, Bernard revelled in it, the liveliness of his students fueling his own bombastic style of teaching. It was a pleasant change of pace having a teacher who let us all be ourselves in class; provided we weren’t too disruptive to the lesson plan.
Speaking of which.
His laughter still rumbling through the air, Bernard clapped his hands to pull everyone's focus back to him, “Ok, ok, let’s get back to it then shall we? Rova. Lokki. Hopefully the two of you can stay awake long enough until you can grab yourselves a coffee.”
As the class settled down and the last few giggling beeps petered out, Benard pointed a hand to the screen, “So, the Koala. Let’s start simple shall we? They are herbivorous marsupials native to the eastern and southern coasts of Australia. Easily recognised the world over, they are a well known and beloved symbol of their homeland, along with other animals such as the Kangaroo and the Emu. The former of which you might remember from one of our earlier lectures.”
Indeed I did remember, along with how angry Bernard had gotten after some speh-head had derided the Yotul after he explained how he held specific disdain for such attitudes.
Uuuggghh… I never want to see him angry again. So chilling.
I shook my ears in an effort to dismiss the unpleasant memory, panning my eyes back to the monitor to try and distract myself by inspecting the Koala’s physical appearance once more. Thankfully, by some Star's blessed intervention, Bernard had the exact same idea.
“Koala’s are rather squat in stature, ranging around sixty to eighty-five centimetres in length and weighing little more than fifteen to sixteen kilograms at their full size. As you can see, the fur of this fellow before you is a lovely silvery grey, but their fur can also sport a chocolaty brown hue as well. Arguably the most distinctive part of their appearance is their head, being rather large for their body size and having rounded ears, a large nose, and a pair of small eyes. These are often brown but variations do occur.”
It didn’t slip past my notice that Bernard didn’t bother to point out that the Koala’s eyes were forward facing. I didn’t think he’d simply forgotten, so perhaps he just felt it wasn’t necessary given that he’d already stated it was herbivorous. Either way, no one stuck up a paw or tail to question him.
“Now this will hardly be surprising considering how long they sleep, but Koala’s are largely sedentary and it’s rather easy to see why when you have a look into the contents of their diet.”
With the press of a button the Koala on screen was replaced by images of vibrant green vegetation. Soaring trees and flowering shrubbery weaved together across landscape framed pictures pulled admiring trills from the herd, the diversity of the plant life being shown standing as a reminder that it wasn’t only animal life that flourished on Earth.
After giving everyone the chance to take in the picturesque scenes, Bernard casually hammered that point home, “This is eucalyptus or, more accurately, a choice selection of more than 700 plants belonging to the eucalyptus genus, though the Koala itself favours 30 of them in particular.”
700!? Stars…
Realising that my ears had drooped in my momentary awe, I twisted them back to tune into the lesson, only for them to splay out in shock at the next words to come out of Bernard's mouth.
“The leaves of these plants are the primary food source of the Koala and there are a couple things worth mentioning when talking about these plants. For starters they do not have much nutritional or caloric value, leading to the Koala’s low-energy lifestyle. Additionally, they contain toxic compounds.”
A shiver instantly ran through the herd, ears flicking rapidly in confusion and alarm followed by a few quizzical whispers. It didn’t take long for someone to decide to give a proper voice to the murmuring.
“Excuse me Doctor. Did we hear that right? Their diet is made up of toxic flora?” Vlek’s grumbling incredulity cut through the herd's mutterings with ease. Until Kailo’s recent change of heart, the fifty something rotation old blonde Venlil had been a close second in terms of scepticism. Mercifully his rebuttals had always been relevant questions as opposed to ranting diatribes, so he at least remained on topic if nothing else.
Bernard nodded in confirmation, smiling back at Vlek while absentmindedly twirling the end of his moustache, “You heard me right, they do indeed consume plants that are toxic. Just not to them.”
Any worry or uncertainty still clinging to the herd was swept away by the provision of the glaringly obvious answer, leaving me chuckling inwardly at the oversight.
Ah of course! The plant might be poisonous but they’ll have evolved to deal with that. Stars… I’m so used to expecting the unexpected with Earth that I didn’t even consider the simplest solution.
“I see, thank you Doctor,” Vlek replied, a tinge of interest still audible in his tone, “I assume they’ve developed some adaptation to become immune to the harmful effects?”
The question immediately evoked a smirk from our teacher, but he hurriedly suppressed it while bobbing his head, “They have indeed. There are several factors that aid in their digestion of eucalyptus leaves without succumbing to the plant's baleful properties. The first is a part of the intestinal tract called the cecum. It contains a microbiome that allows the Koala to digest the eucalyptus. Coupled with this is an enzyme in the Koala’s liver that helps them break down the toxins. They are also capable of sniffing out the plants with the least amount of toxins, ensuring that they ingest as little as possible.”
Pausing for a breath Bernard looked back at the screen before turning to face us, another grin curling at the edges of his mouth as he continued with his explanation, “This is mostly for adult Koala’s, because while their young also possess these same adaptations, they don’t just go straight to munching through foliage right after being born. No, they need a little help making that jump and getting a stomach full of all that good gut bacteria. It’s nothing bad, but those of a sensitive stomach may wish to prepare themselves for this next part.”
Bernard’s assurances did little to assuage the concern that his warning had foisted upon us. Having been exposed to so much of the weirdness Earth had to offer everyone always ended up on edge whenever Bernard gave advice like this, even if he did say it in jest.
What strange nonsense thing do Koala pups do then? Judging by the way he’s acting it probably isn’t something as simple as drinking milk from the mother. Hmmm…
“So,” Bernard began, snapping us from our pensive stupor, “Young Koala’s, known as joeys, have a gestation period of thirty-five days on average, which is approximately forty-two paws. Once born they travel from the birth canal to a pouch in their mother so that they can continue to develop and grow. In the pouch the joey finds and latches onto one of two teats and these provide the newborn with a steady stream of nourishing milk. It spends the next six to seven months growing in the pouch, its eyes, ears, and fur all developing as time goes on.”
Okay, interesting. But this is exactly how I thought it’d go. What’s different?
The unexpected normalcy of the Koala’s birth and growth cycle had calmed everyone's nerves, only to be replaced with an air of suspicion as we waited with rapt attention for Bernard to drop the other claw and upend our expectations like he always did.
Not wanting to keep us in further suspense he forged ahead, the tempo of his voice picking up as the smile started to crease his face once more, “Now to make the switch from milk to eucalyptus, the mother also feeds the joey a substance called pap. It comes from the cecum I mentioned earlier, and contains all the gut bacteria required to help the young Koala in making the switch to eucalyptus.”
He stopped and looked around, searching us for a reaction to what I felt was a rather bland statement of fact. What was it he was saying without actually saying? Koala pups drink milk to mature and then include this pap substance so that they can start eating plants. I don’t see what-
The cecum is part of the intestine.
I blinked.
I blinked again, the intrusive interruption scouring my brain clean of any other thought bar the one it’d just implanted itself in the forefront of my mind.
Oh stars. They-
“They eat their own poop!?”
The shocked bleat shattered the peace of the room to reveal that most if not all of us had come to the same tail curling conclusion. As the hall filled with unrestrained vocalisations of disgust, an ‘Ugh’ over here and a ‘Blegh’ over there, Bernard’s own bellowing laughter joined the throng of voices.
“Ha! Everytime! Each and every time. Clearly it doesn’t matter if my students are Human or Venlil. Whenever someone learns about the Koala’s dietary development the reaction is the same!”
Pleased with himself beyond reason, Bernard chuckled away while the rest of us grappled with this ghastly reality. While there were plenty of animals that feasted on things that ranged from simply unappealing all the way to the stomach churningly grotesque, I’d never heard of an animal that actively consumed the excrement of its own species. Benefits aside, the prospect of having to do that to survive to adulthood sent a shiver of revulsion down my spine.
Ewww… Stars, I hope I forget this feeling by 2nd meal. They’re serving sturen and magamroot stew later. I was really looking forward to it.
With the herds mood beginning to temper Bernard tapped the podiums controls, removing the verdant collage of eucalyptus to display several similar yet distinct environments, still chortling merrily to himself in the process, “Ok then, with that little foray into their diet complete, why don’t we look at their habitat in more detail? As you might imagine given their diet and arboreal nature, Koala’s live in forested regions, and can be found in tropical and temperate zones. About a century ago they were classed as a vulnerable species, however efforts were made to turn this around and increase their numbers. Sadly the largest factor in their decline was human activity, as the fertile lands that gave rise to their bountiful forests were coveted farm land for our settlements.”
It was strange to hear Bernard so matter of factly admit to humanity's negative impacts on other species. He’d alluded to such things in the past but always with an air of caution, carefully pawing the line between honestly answering a question while not painting humanity as uncaring and destructive. AKA, the ‘predators’ we’d all initially expected them to be.
Perhaps his comfort in making such admissions was a reflection of the class's comfort with him, for no one so much as batted an ear. Even Kailo, who I would’ve expected to jump at the chance to use this as a prime example of predatory danger, only flicked an ear in stern yet silent concern.
A cough from Bernard drew my attention back, a new picture on screen that showed a forest from a bird's-eye view. Drawn across the image were around a dozen ringed areas, some bordering one another while others overlapped to some degree. It took me a moment, but I soon recognised that what I was looking at was a map, the rings representing what I assumed to be territories. And it didn’t take much effort to guess who each one belonged to.
“From habitats we move onto behaviours, so let’s start with territories. Koala’s are solitary animals. Yes, despite being herbivores. Considering they’re only awake for roughly four hours of the day I can hardly blame them. Lots to do and not a lot of time to do it. Jokes aside, once they mature they are quite independent, carving out a little slice of land for themselves, as displayed in this example, called a Home Range. That is not to say they go it alone and leave everything else behind however. Rather, as shown in the map behind me, they live in their own space while still being part of a larger social group.”
With another press of his pad the picture was updated to show one of two symbols in each segment, along with a key to the side of the map displayed in helpful Venlang. A quick glance told me that the symbols were representing whether the territory belonged to a male or female of the species.
“As you can see there is quite a bit of overlap between different Koala’s territories. It is in these areas that most of the socialising takes place between neighbours. The trees in these locations represent the few areas where intrusion across territories is acceptable for the sake of social interaction. Outside of that the Koala’s stick to their own territories for the most part, with the exceptions of Koala’s who are passing through, attempting to become part of the social group themselves, or dominant males who sometimes go off into another Koala’s range. But how do they know where one range begins and another range ends you might ask? Well, this brings us onto the next part of the lecture. How do Koala’s communicate?”
Wiping away the map from the monitor, Bernard loaded up a video of a Koala sitting in a tree and pressed play. Head held high, the Koala’s body shook as it belted out a reverberating call into the wilderness that could only be described as a garbled combination of a car engine failing to turn over mixed with the hiccups of someone with a particularly sore throat.
That’s how they sound? Oof that must be rough on the lungs.
I clearly wasn’t the only one to share such a thought, because I clocked Sandi tracing a paw along her neck as the noise went on, ears fluttering in discomfort at the noise.
Bernard himself cleared his own throat as the video came to an end, minimising it and replacing it with another image of a tree with a Koala rubbing up against the bark, “I think they’ve got me beat on who’s got the deeper voice!”
His joke garnered several amused beeps, a rare reaction that caused a beaming smile to shine across his face at lighting speed, “Oh you’re too kind. I’ll be here all week. Now where were we? Oh yes! Communication. As you’ve just heard, Koala’s are capable of loud low pitched bellows that can carry over vast distances. These express everything from ‘Hello I’m over here’ to ‘This is my turf, stay away’. Bellowing is more common in the males than the females, opting for shouting matches as opposed to outright fights when it comes to asserting dominance. Other vocal expressions include grunts, wails, and snarls if they’re acting particularly angsty. Mother and joey pairs also communicate through gentle clicking, squeaking, and murmuring sounds. And there’s one more thing worth mentioning. Something they have in common with Humans and Venlil when it comes to emoting.”
Really? They do something we do?
Curious, I pressed myself against the desk, straining as close as I could to once more scrutinise the Koala’s features. Not a lot stood out to me at first, the grey marsupial not sharing many similarities with a Venlil that I could identify.
Ok think. We show emotion with our ears, tails, and our wool on occasion. They don’t have tails so it’s obviously not that. Wool standing on end is more a reaction than a conscious expression. So it must be the ears then.
To my quiet satisfaction, my hunch was soon validated by Bernard, “As well as their vocalisations, Koala’s are very emotive through their facial features. Just like humans, they use their mouths and lips to show how they feel, but these tend more towards the aggressive side of the scale than what you might see on a human. Regarding yourselves however, Koala’s utilise their ears in tandem with their mouth movements when showing strong emotion.”
I was delighted to hear that my assumption was correct, a little happy flick twisting out through my tail and bapping against my chair with a muted thump against the plastic.
Hehe yes! Got one right!
“Now then, we are getting close to lunchtime so I’ll finish this segment off with something I think you’ll find particularly interesting. Diplomacy.”
Perplexed mutterings followed in the wake of the bizarre inclusion to the lecture, my own thoughts being dominated by bewilderment as I tried and failed to make sense of how the two could possibly be related.
Why would Koala’s, or any animal for that matter, be linked to diplomacy? Hmmm...
I could understand dispatching exterminators to deal with a predator issue as a show of goodwill, that at least includes animals, but Humans aren’t like that so I think I can safely scratch that off the list.
Maybe the humans who live in that region benefited from Koala’s in some way. Could they have gotten something from them? But what?
Hopefully not what the pups get from their mothers.
Agh no! Begone awful intrusive thoughts. Blegh! I don’t need that in my head.
As I wrestled with the short-lived revulsion inflicted upon me by my Star's damned subconscious, Bernard placed a new image on screen, one that was decidedly different from all that had preceded it.
On screen were more than a couple dozen pictures of humans. Some were pictured alone while others congregated in large groups while cameras surrounded them from all angles. Across all the images, I noted two common themes. First of all, a solid majority of the humans were wearing formal wear similar to what I’d seen worn by UN representatives on TV. If the gaggle of journalists in the background of the photos didn’t already confirm my suspicions, then it was this similarity which made me conclude they were all people of some importance. Likely politicians judging from context clues.
Secondly, each of the individuals was interacting with a Koala in some form. Some cradled one against their chests while others were feeding it eucalyptus leaves or pellets of some kind. One of the assumed politicians had become an impromptu bed for a snoozing bundle of fur, a gleeful smile spread across their face as they lovingly gazed down at the sleeping Koala in their lap.
As I continued to stare at the assorted photos something clicked into place, a sudden spark flickering into life. A burgeoning light of comprehension that flared and swelled with every wide-eyed breath I took. Some things still escaped me, things I hoped would soon be explained, but in staring at all of the humans happy smiling faces, I was struck with an instant of pure understanding.
If someone, say a Nevok for instance, offered to gift me a creature that was common to them but which might exotic and breathtaking to a Venlil, how could my feelings not be swayed? How could I walk away from that encounter and not have grown closer to them as a result?
“Koala diplomacy,” Bernard waved his hand up at the monitor, a slight reverence in his tone, “My favourite kind of soft power diplomacy. Where political leaders take photo ops with Koala’s and, on occasion, the Australian government loans Koala’s to other nations for a time to bolster positive relations. It certainly helps that Koala’s are a beloved animal worldwide, drawing large crowds and revenue for countries fortunate enough to host the adorable critters.”
The truly alien concept predictably sparked instant discussion in the herd, two polar opposite schools of thought swiftly cementing themselves as the most popular opinions. Simultaneously, I heard one voice trill excitedly while another scoffed at what they clearly saw as a ridiculous and offensive notion.
“Squee! That’d be so cool! I’d love to get the chance to see a Liri from Coila. Remember the Rainbow Boa? Think of that shimmering effect and colour but put it on a bird! Ah! I’ve only heard their song on video. It’d be a treat to hear it in person!”
Ooo! I’ve read about them! I’d love to get up close to one.
“Loaning. As if animals are property to be hoarded and traded? Pugh! Another predatory trait the humans don’t want to acknowledge for what it is.”
Ugh, typical. Jump right to the worst possible option.
However, despite my dismissal of their disparaging fumings, an uncomfortable thought pressed upon my mind. While it was plain to see how much humans cared for the Koala, it didn’t change the fact that humans did keep animals as property just as the scornful herd member had said.
This begged a rather important, disquieting question. Aside from keeping some animals as cattle, a stomach tightening minefield I had no desire to step a claw onto right now, how else did humans keep other creatures. And how did they treat them?
Before I was fully conscious of doing it my paw was in the air, the question primed on my tongue.
Noticing my elevated paw Bernard pointed at me, smiling warmly, “Yes Rysel? What’s on your mind?”
Sorry Bernard. I hope this one’s not too awkward for you to answer.
Flicking my ear in appreciation, and waiting for everyone to settle enough so that I could be heard, I voiced my concerns as neutrally as possible, “Thank you Doctor. I uh, just had a thought. We know that humans keep certain animals for… particular reasons, and we know why. From how you’ve spoken about Koala’s I think it's fair to say that the same cannot be said for them. However, this makes me wonder, what other reasons do humans have for keeping animals and how do you treat them?”
A flash of surprise blinked across Bernard's eyes but vanished so quickly that it felt like I’d imagined it. Had he not expected such a question? Maybe he was just shocked that it’d been me who’d ended up asking it?
Stars, am I so predictable that no one expects me to ask difficult questions?
Unfortunately, a quick glance at my deskmates seemed to prove that to be the case, as both Sandi and Kailo were looking at me with differing degrees of astonishment flapping in their ears.
Well speh.
“A very good point Rysel, certainly one that’s worth raising. Yet another example of you all anticipating what I have to say before I can bring it up myself.” Bernard tapped the podium, switching off the monitor before returning his focus to me, “We won’t be needing that. I’ve nothing prepared that I can show you and we’re heading to lunch in a few minutes anyway. Still, that’s plenty of time to give you a bit of an answer.”
A bit? What does he mean just a bit?
Made even more curious by Bernard's preempted admission that he wasn’t going to fully answer my query, I dialled both my ears on him, fixing him with an inquisitive stare as he started to explain with a tone that was noticeably more nonchalant than any of his previous explanations.
“So, animals in captivity for reasons other than what you already know. Honestly I would love to delve into other reasons regarding why we keep animals. However, I have a lesson plan in the works that I hope to share with you all in the not too distant future. Some of it touches upon this very topic and I’d quite like to bundle it all together. That said, I can tell you how animals in captivity are treated. In short, the answer is very well. There are a mountain of laws both on private and public interests that govern the standards and ethical treatment of animals, and breaches of these laws are quite severe even for relatively minor infractions.”
While I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t disappointed by the vague answer to what was really the bulk of my question, I was at least satisfied by Bernard’s assurances that animals in captivity, such as the Koala, were well looked after. Considering the barely subdued grumbling coming from some corners of the audience it was clear that several of the herd didn’t believe Bernard outright, but I trusted him to be honest. Additionally, the mention of an upcoming lecture focused on humans keeping animals caused quite the buzz.
I felt a mix of excitement and trepidation at exploring the topic further. He’d pretty much confirmed we wouldn’t be talking about cattle farms, for which I was relieved, but that still left a huge amount of uncertainty in what was to come.
Humans keeping animals as cattle was a forgone conclusion. As horrifying as that reality was, it was one I could understand from a detached and strictly clinical point of view. Being predators they ate meat and therefore they kept cattle. But the concept of keeping animals for any other reason baffled me.
What could be the purpose? The diplomacy thing makes sense now that I have context, but what other reasons could they have.
The class's discussions were interrupted by the recognisable ring of the break bell, the shift in attention eliciting a change in conversation from confused hypotheses to peppy conversation on how everyone was planning to spend their break and what they had in mind for 2nd meal.
“Well I can see everyone’s excited for lunch, and who am I to disappoint,” chuckling Bernard waved us all up from our seats, pocketing his pad from the podium and heading to open the classroom door for us, “Enjoy your break, get a good rest along with a hearty meal, and I’ll see you all back here at the usual time.”
As everyone else filed out I stayed behind, waving at Sandi and Kailo as they left, and pawing over to Bernard once he and I were the only ones left in the room.
Ears folded down and with an apologetic tinge in my voice I greeted him as I sidled up to him, “Hey Bernard, I uh… sorry if that last question was unexpected.”
Chortling in reply, Bernard waved a hand through the air in a sign I’d come to understand meant ‘not a problem’.
“No need to apologise Rysel. It was a good question and most certainly not a problem.”
Heh, called it.
I sighed, allowing tension I didn’t realise I’d been holding to relax itself from my shoulders, “Phew, that’s a relief. I’m glad. I’m curious to hear what this new lesson is you’ve got in store for us by the way.”
Bernard wagged a finger at me, throwing up his eyebrows in mock amazement, “Oh are you now? Well I’m afraid you’ll have to remain curious for the time being. It’s going to be quite the surprise if all goes to plan. But…”
He trailed off, glancing at me before looking to the door like he was making sure no one else was around.
Wait, is he going to tell me? Oh please yes let me know now!
Stopping myself from jumping on the spot in excited anticipation, and trying my damndest to stop my tail from wagging in equal measure, I stared up at Bernard as he stewed in his thoughts before turning back to face me.
“I can’t tell you the specifics, but I’m working with Alejandro and Tolim to get something together. A trip that’s not a trip as it were. And when it happens, I’m going to need a few of the more accepting members of the class to lend me a hand. I’m hoping you and a couple others will be able to help with that?”
A trip that’s not a trip? What does that mean? Agh who cares about that right now! Bernard’s relying on me to help out!
Still trying not to keep myself from bouncing around with pup like glee I swished my tail and nodded my head in joint agreement, happy to help with whatever Bernard had in store for us, “Of course! Anything you need I’ll be there to lend a paw. You can count on me!”
A broad warm smile lit up Bernard's face, a hand patting me on the shoulder in appreciation, “Thank you Rysel. I knew I could rely on you but it still warms my heart to hear it. And, as thanks for this and for the many times you’ve shown your support, the surprise includes a little something special I think you’d appreciate the most.”
If my earlier enthusiasm had been at a nine, then the implication of a supposed gift sent it rocketing all the way to a hundred in a heartbeat.
“Wait… WHAT!? What do you mean? What are you doing?”
As impossible as it seemed, Bernard's grin grew even wider as I almost lost myself in wool shaking exhilaration, “Call it my own form of Koala diplomacy. But I’m afraid that’s all I can say for now. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise even for you!”
“Oh you ass!” Whistling jovially I bapped my tail against Bernard’s leg in fake indignation, evoking a barking bellowing laugh from the man himself.
Still laughing, the two of us departed the class and made for the canteen, my rumbling stomach leading me on while my mind spun with fantastical thoughts as to what Bernard had prepared for us.
And what specifically he had in store for me.

I bought a pair of bend low shoes at Christmas. They have only been worn maybe three days a week since then, and 85% the time on dry days. They are already letting the water in! I can see BS only have a 30 day guarantee but surely as a prestige brand where one of their biggest selling points is the quality of their shoes, so they not have anything else?

You know the book “if you give a mouse a cookie” yeah im having thE TIME OF MY LIFE RIGHT NOW🫠🫠
I made a post being like “low lvls meet me at my camp im trying to get rid of plans & stims”
And I got a couple who were super pleased by it and then this guy who didn’t even respond shows up anyways which is fine-
I give him a few stimpacks and plans, he asks to trade- can’t figure out how which is fine, I’ve been there back when I was a low lvl-
I eventually sell him some fusion cells, he overprices some .308 which obviously I’m not gonna buy-
I thought he got the the point after I declined to trade THREE TIMES OVER and disappears for 20 minutes but then comes back to my camp while I’m in free cam mode editing my camp and little shit will not stop leaving/coming back and requesting to trade/shooting me & for some reason trying to shoot fetch???
I just keep placing my vendor in front of him- he’s not getting the point.
He is STILL jumping around my camp doing god knows what seeing as all my shit is locked. I’m gauging he will be back as he is relentless apparently.
Tip: don’t be this low lvl- no one likes this type of shit and it’s giving “im in eighth grade and only have played Minecraft” vibes
edit: THIS LITTLE SHIT HAS NOW RETURNED FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HE IS LUCKY IM NOT INTO KILLING LOW LVLS

Hey! I've been looking to upgrade my monitor game. I'm currently using a BenQ XL2546 as my main monitor and I've been looking to upgrade. I have been trying a few monitors and I'm just struggling to get that feel I have with the BenQ's. I actually have had 3 iterations, (3 monitor setup, 2 older BenQ's are secondary monitors).
I have been trying the msi mag 271qpx monitor, and it just hasn't felt "it". The colors are decent, but not as nice as I thought they'd be for an oled. I had to do a lot of editing to get it to a somewhat neutral white balance, but it's still just not as bright as my other monitors. It also seems like it probably puts more strain on my eyes? Maybe being oled? The specs are great, and it seems like it has nice qualities in general, but it doesn't totally feel like my long lasting monitor. I had some people recommend pretty much the equivalent LG ultragear 27inch. That one felt worse... it felt darker, but I will say some of the clarity around edges of things like character models in game seemed slightly better. The color was wack on that one too out of the box.
I don't think I need to use HDR, I find it almost gimmicky right now, as it feels like colors get oversaturated and it feels too fake. I play mostly MOBA's and FPS games, so I'm looking for 240hz. I will say the 360 on the msi actually is nice. But I'd like at least 240 with low latency, again msi had .03, not sure other panels are up to that yet.
I do also do some editing in davinci resolve and affinity photo. SUPER basic editing, no color grading or anything really. Basically edit youtube videos and make thumbnails. That's where I noticed how off the colors were originally.
I have used 24" 1080 monitors for what seems like forever. However, I wanted to try 1440 27" and it's nice but I'm still not sure what I want to do yet.
Mostly I'd like some recommendations. Do I just get the newest Zowie and stick to TN panels, I know they're great for performance in FPS games, but I feel like I'm losing that "juice" by not going for at least something like an IPS. I'd go for an IPS panel from zowie if they had one since I like their monitors (clearly).
I have heard a lot of people talk about the Asus Rog series IPS monitors, and they just announced the oled. But honestly, I don't think I'm going to go for OLED. As nice as some features are, I don't like a few of the things that I think are making it a no for me. I literally had my monitor shutting off on me because I didn't run the pixel thing, and you can't NOT run it after 16 hours. Which I get, for pixel burn, but I was in the middle of a game and I was just like idk what to do... It was SUPER annoying. Granted, I should have just done one earlier, but that's the nature of it, I'm not always going to have a monitor turn off in the timeframe, so that's a big negative for me is the burn.
Really, I'd like to just have a bright, color accurate crisp monitor. I also don't know if it's worth going to 1440 at a 25" or if I should do 27" if I want to do 1440. I've done 1080 for what seems like forever, and it looks like were trying to go to 4k, so why not get those better graphics for the times I would use them. But I don't know if the value of hundreds of extra dollars is worth it.
Can you get me some insight here?

My skin isn't too oily or dry, and it's not that sensitive.
Products I currently use for hyperpigmentation include:

• Goodal VC serum
• The Ordinary L-ascorbic Acid Powder
• The Ordinary Arbutin
• The Ordinary Niacinamide etc.

I've been using them for a couple of months (The Ordinary Powder ~1 month) and I haven't really seen results. I have darker skin on my forehead, nose, around my mouth, and it just looks dull overall. Suggestions? Should I visit a dermatologist for this?

Few days ago I ordered Magnesium Biglycinate with added b6. ... It was a high dose I was not aware, having 1420mg Magnesium Glycinate and 200 mg pure elemental Magnesium and 2 mg b6
I was taking vitamin d3 and b12 also for deficiency. So I took I mag capsule with 4000iu d3 and 2mg b12
Since then I am havinf extremely bad effects... My stomach is upset, pins and needles in body, fatigue, headache, dry skin, pale color, dry mouth and dry eyes, weired sensations around ears and neck below the mouth. flank pain and pins and needles over liver and stomach.. joint pain and Inam unable to sleep. Shallow breathing , it seems like my whole body is on fire.
I just had my heamoglobin checked yesterday it was 126 and today I checked it was 114 , I was wondering what could be the reason. I feel so bad right now and the Doctors arnt of no help.
I also checked my calcium yesterday and which was high at 2.67 and b12 was 1475.
can anybody advise what could have went wrong.

I track my sleep with a garmin so in addition to my feeling I have data to show that I am getting worse sleep when camping. I am wondering why this could be the case.
Some data points: -sleep In a very comfortable sleeping bag and on a very comfortable mattress on cot. - I sleep under the stars. No tent. - I sleep next to my kids. - no alcohol. -bed shortly after sundown. - no screentime.
However: -I typically get very low REM if any. Contributing to very low sleep scores: say around 50-75. Never that low when I sleep at home.
Perhaps I sleep in “low grade awareness” since we are outside so my body is always on alert for wild animals?
Any ideas?

My hair has always been fragile, it snaps with the smallest pull. I struggle to grow it because the length gets very thin after a while and looks horrible and then I need to chop it off.
I have fine soft wavy hair, I wash every 3rd day on average, no heat appliances except sometimes i blow dry my hair a little (because I read that letting it air dry might also do some damage). I have no split ends and my hair doesn’t feel dry. Only hair colors that I ever use are either plant dyes or semiperms (without developer). I usually wear my hair either down or in a loose bun, always using soft materials in hair ties etc.
I feel the breakage is not happening when my hair is wet, rather when it’s dry. Like i was doing a braid on my hair the other day and I could hear some hair strands snapping when they got caught on my hands or other hair. If I pull at my hair it breaks almost instantly. Does that mean it’s dry? Or does it need more protein?
I am also thinking about vitamin deficiencies but googling just came back with lots of different things; biotin, other b vitamins, iron, zinc, magnesium,.. and of course protein which I do eat enough. I have had low iron and vitamin D before but fixing the deficiencies didn’t seem to do anything to my hair quality. I know biotin deficiency is rare but have any of you found it actually helped, with hair strength in particular? What else could I try? My thyroid is fine.
Or is it just genetics? I used to have strong long hair when I was a kid but basically all my adult life I’ve had this weakness problem.

https://imgur.com/a/ROE6To3
I had kissed someone 2-3 days ago and got this, i dont have anything on my lips but when i kissed her it burnt my lips a bit and i think it was because of her vape. there is no pain but taste is a bit different and my mouth is more dry than usual. im worried about the red bits behind my tooth and on the roof area. should i be concerned?

Water and flood damage in Smithfield is unfortunately an ongoing issue due to the area’s geography and climate. The low-lying plains along the River Torrens mean certain suburbs remain at high risk of flooding during periods of heavy rain. The damage from flood events can be extensive, impacting residential and commercial properties alike. Restoration requires professional equipment and expertise to thoroughly dry, decontaminate and repair affected buildings.
https://adelaidefloodmaster.com.au/water-and-flood-damage-restoration-in-Smithfield/

Hi friends,
Some people might have seen me here and there fretting about jobs and finals and really just being a nervous wreck. My 1L year was very much not easy from a mix of struggling with understanding law school fundamentally and some personal health diagnosis’s that kind of smacked me in November. My GPA was pretty low, this semester was better (don’t have all my grades but most) but still not what I was used to getting in undergrad.
I was fortunate enough to talk my way into a clerkship during a spring market held in the city my law school is in in like the end of April. Smaller boutique firm but growing, pays pretty well all things considered and its in the exact field I wanted to be in. Really lucked out at the last minute.
I’ve been thrown some really random legal questions and assignments, a lot of statutory interpretation, loophole finding, really the legal work I expected over what I got in LRW. I’ve been working closely with the two head attorneys and the paralegals and have really gotten to learn some cool things about different programs my state has and the state that were expanding into.
The position is primarily remote despite most being centered in the state my LS is in (we meet up in-person monthly) but we do daily swift meetings to feel more connected. One of the things we do is one person can come forward and essentially shout someone out for their good work.
The head attorney who owns the firm came on camera and said that he wanted to give me a shoutout for diving in and putting in some really good work despite being thrown such random questions and issues that he didn’t even know the answers too in my first few weeks.
For a moment, all of this — the illness, the studying, the frustration. Everything was worth it. And i’m sure later I’ll fuck up and miss something, misinterpret a statute. But I did something. I did a legal thing. I helped someone, and I did good work.
I’ve seen a lot of posts recently about people contemplating dropping out because of academic probation, or illness, or the feeling they can’t do it. For those who truly want it, who get their silver lining, there is a moment where it clicks like this one. Where you find the thing you like, or that you’re good at, and you can just grab it and run.
Anyways, I hope this gives someone a little hope as we await final grades for this semester. Rising into 2L is daunting, but, I feel really happy today.

My wife, Mia, and I were driving cross-country. It was our first attempt at the “Great American Roadtrip.”
Mia and I rented a small RV; more of a camper than a full blown RV. We packed up a couple suitcases with plenty of room for any souvenirs and we hit the dusty trail.
We started our journey on the “Mother Road”-- Route 66-- driving south from Chicago until we connected to i-70 and shot straight west through Missouri.
The goal was to see those parts of the country we had never seen before, stopping anywhere that seemed interesting. From the plains of Kansas up through the badlands of Wyoming and South Dakota.
In Missouri we saw the world’s largest cap gun. In Kansas we visited the Evel Knievel Museum and the World’s Largest Belt Buckle.
We love all those kitschy, tourist trap places.
Eventually, we made it to Colorado and after a few hours more of driving through amber waves of grain, we saw them... the Rocky Mountains.
We made an exit and headed north through the winding mountain highways.
The Rockies were gorgeous. Snow capped in the middle of summer, some of the peaks pierced through the white fluffy clouds.
We saw a sign that read “Traffic Tunnel - 3 Miles.”
A little further and sure enough, there it was, a large tunnel bored directly through the mountain in front of us.
A large sign read, “Pike Tunnel - Longest Traffic Tunnel in the Nation! - Please turn your headlights on now.”
“How long is it?” asked Mia.
“That’s what she said,” I quipped.
But she was right, there was no information beyond the detail that this was the longest tunnel in the nation.
“Can’t be more than a mile or two,” I said as I watched the little white car ahead of us slip into the darkness. A moment later we joined it.
The tunnel was lit by fluorescents that gave everything a greenish yellow tinge. On the left hand side was a raised walkway behind a railing for maintenance access.
Initially I was struck by the incredible amount of work that went into the construction of this man- made marvel.
“We’re under a million tons of rocky mountain right now,” I said.
“How many years before this caves in?” Mia responded.
I shot her a look--
“Let’s save the cave-in talk until we’re out on the other side.”
“I’m just saying, nature will take this back eventually,” she continued.
I scanned the empty road ahead of us.
“Where did the other car go?” I asked.
We were now alone in the tunnel, no cars ahead of us nor behind us.
“Huh... they must have sped off ahead. Maybe they’re scared of a cave-in?”
My Spotify playlist had stopped playing. Mia looked at the phone.
“No cell service.”
She turned on the radio and spun the dial only to find static.
“You’re not going to be able to pick up a station in here,” I said.
She turned the volume down.
“Just wanted to check... If only we had some CDs. This tunnel really keeps going.”
“I would have thought we’d be through it by now,” I replied.
I looked at the RV’s odometer, 45,600 miles. I picked up speed. I wanted to try and catch up to the little white car.
Up until this point, the tunnel was a straight shot, but now the tunnel started to curve to the right. It may have been my imagination but it also felt as though we were descending…
Mia felt it too and she started to get antsy.
“Where did that other car go? How long is this tunnel?”
There was an urgency in her voice.
I was getting nervous, claustrophobia was not usually a problem for me but when I looked down at the odometer and I saw that it had gone up by 3 miles, my mind began to wander to unsettling places.
We were descending in altitude. I could feel it. I could see a slope in the lights on the ceiling and the railing of the maintenance walkway. I could feel a pressure in my head, and I was getting cold.
“Could you grab me a coke from the back, Mia?”
I couldn’t have Mia getting anxious, that would only start a chain reaction and make me freak out which would then make her freak out.
She unbuckled and ducked into the back of the RV to where we had a cooler stocked with drinks and food.
Just as she stepped into the back, I saw something.
There standing on the side of the road was a MAN wearing a reflective safety vest and a hard hat. He was WAVING to me as I passed him by.
Something about him looked... strange…
I watched him in the side-view mirror as we passed and he was still watching the RV, still waving at the back of our vehicle as he faded into the distance.
Mia reappeared from the back of the RV, Coke in hand. She popped it and handed it to me.
“You look worried.”
“I’m fine,” I smiled and took a sip of the Coke.
“Eric, slow down!”
I slammed on the breaks as I saw what made Mia scream. In the road in front of us was a roadblock.
Two reflective traffic sawhorses blocked both lanes of the tunnel. Beyond the roadblock, the lights of the tunnel were dark. There was nothing but a void of blackness.
Standing in front of the roadblock was another man wearing a reflective vest and a hard hat, only this time his hard hat had a light on top which obscured his face.
We came to a jolting stop.
I turned to Mia
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” she replied. “It’s a cave-in isn’t it?”
“God, I hope not.”
I rolled down the window, leaned out and yelled to the man in the hard hat.
“Hey! What’s going on?!”
The man was about 5 yards away. He took two steps towards us and then raised a hand to his mouth and yelled.
“Just doing some maintenance!”
“How long is it going to take?!” I yelled back.
The man made a hand gesture as if he didn’t hear me.
“How long is it going to take?!” I called again.
He made the same gesture. I unbuckled my seat belt and grabbed the door release.
“What are you doing?” Mia asked.
“I gotta know what’s going on.”
“Eric, just stay here, it might not be safe.”
“I’ll be just a second,” I said.
I pushed the door open and stepped down from the RV.
“Stay in your vehicle!” the man yelled.
He took a couple steps towards me with his hand out telling me to stop.
“What’s the hold up?!” I shouted.
The man was a bit closer now but I still couldn’t see his face through the shining light on his helmet.
“Please stay in your vehicle!” he shouted.
There was something off about him.
Then I heard it–
“EEEAAAUUUUUUGHHHHHHHH!!!”
A scream, or something, rolled from deep in the tunnel. The worker turned and looked into the darkness. Then he ran past the barricades and soon all we could see of him was the light on his helmet.
The light disappeared a moment later.
“What the hell was that?! Is someone hurt?” Mia asked.
“I have no idea,” I said.
“Should we do something?” Mia asked.
I just sat there and watched the pitch black tunnel in front of me. I had no idea what to tell her. I checked the sideview mirrors. There was still nobody behind us.
“Where are the other cars?” I asked.
“They must have gotten through before the roadblock... Or maybe they caused the roadblock?” Mia replied.
“I saw another worker a little ways back. We could try to go back and talk to him.”
“We’d be going straight into any oncoming cars.”
“There’s a maintenance walkway. We didn’t pass him that long ago. We can probably catch him on foot.”
“Maybe we should just wait for the guy to come back.”
She reached over and grabbed my arm. I squeezed her hand.
She was right.
I looked out at the tunnel ahead of us. I turned on the RV’s high beams but all I could see beyond the roadblock was more tunnel and more road.
I checked my phone. Unsurprisingly, there was no service still.
We waited, but the man never came back.
“It’s been twenty minutes,” Mia said, “How come there hasn’t been another car behind us?
I was having the same thought. I rolled down my window and stuck my head out. I looked back at the road behind us. It went back about 200 yards before curving out of sight.
There was no sign of that first worker I saw on the maintenance walk way. I looked at the roadblock ahead of us and clicked on the RV’s high beams. There was nothing beyond the roadblock but more tunnel. It didn’t look like it was under construction, just very dark.
“I think we should keep going,” I said.
“What about the roadblock?”
“We’ll move those sawhorses out of the way and just drive past,” I said as I opened my door.
Mia looked at me, then she cast her eyes to the dark tunnel ahead of us. I knew she was processing the same limited options that I was.
Driving backwards would be a huge risk in the instance of another car finally coming along.
Getting out and walking would take God knows how long, we could have driven 10 miles at this point.
Forward was our best option.
“Let’s do it,” Mia said.
We jumped out and quickly pulled the two sawhorses out of the right lane. I pulled the RV up past the barriers, then we jumped out again and put the sawhorses back where they were. We didn't need another car to come barreling through.
We were finally moving again, slowly. It was pitch black save for the high beams of the RV.
We crept forward at around 15 miles per hour. As the tunnel turned and twisted, my eyes started to play tricks on me. I kept seeing shapes at the furthest point of the tunnel.
I kept seeing something standing just at the end of the next bend but as we roll forward, there was nothing there.
“Where are the workers?” Mia asked.
“I don’t know.”
I was done rationalizing. This was all wrong. Traffic tunnels are never this long.
My mind started to wander to all the road trip urban legends I’d read about; The Killer in the Backseat, The Disappearing Gas Station, The Pale Man In The Corn Field.
Did we stumble into some strange outlier location? An in-between point on the endless roads that cross this country?
Then I saw it–
“Look! A person! Thank god!” Mia shouted.
As we rounded a curve in the tunnel, a group of maintenance workers entered our view.
The three of them stood on the left side of the road behind two more sawhorses topped with flashing lights.
Two of them faced towards us, the third was facing the other two.
The one with his back to us wore a light on his hard hat. Was this the same guy we saw earlier? How did he get this far away?
I approached slowly and rolled down the window.
“Hey! You left us waiting back there!” I yelled.
There was no response.
In fact, all three men were completely silent, and it was hard to tell in the flashing light of the sawhorses, but they looked to be standing COMPLETELY STILL.
“Hello?!” I yelled again.
I pushed open my door and stepped out onto the pavement.
“Eric wait--”
I held up a finger to Mia.
“Just a second.”
I slowly stepped towards the 3 men.
“Hello?”
No response… What the fuck?
The bright lights of the sawhorses obscured their faces.
I kept moving closer.
“Hey, what’s going on--”
Then I saw it.
Their faces... They were plastic.
In front of me stood three mannequins.
I backed away toward the RV, then I turned and walked hurriedly to the vehicle.
I was seriously freaked out but I didn’t want to alarm Mia. I climbed into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut.
“They’re mannequins.” I said.
“What?”
“They’re mannequins.”
”Why?... What?...”
“I don’t know…”
I looked back over at the three figures and my blood ran cold…
The Hard Hat Mannequin had somehow TURNED AROUND to face us. All three figures appeared to be watching us now.
Then we heard it--
A loud resonant banging on the side, and then the roof of the RV.
“What the hell was that?” Mia whispered.
We listened, holding our breath. Then--
A shuffling sound--
Something was moving ON or IN the RV.
“Stay here.” I said.
I got up.
“Eric, wait!”
I moved to the back of the RV.
It was dark. I went for a drawer in the kitchenette space and pulled out a flashlight.
I moved to the rear of the RV, the bedroom. My flashlight illuminated an empty room.
“Whoever is back here, I have a gun…”
A shitty bluff. But I didn’t see anything.
I shone the light out of the windows of each side of the RV. Nothing.
Then I heard it–
A shuffling sound, from right above me.
I looked up and screamed–
“Fuck!”
On the roof of the RV, staring through the skylight was a woman with vacuous black eyes and a dead smile.
Her stringy black hair dangled down towards me casting thing black shadows across her horrible pale face.
“Mia, drive! Fast!” I screamed.
Mia JUMPED over to the driver’s seat, shifted into gear and STOMPED on the gas. The RV was clunky but it could move when it needed to.
We lurched forward and I fell back.
I trained my flashlight up onto the skylight again and the woman was gone.
I scrambled to my feet and looked out of the side windows.
Did Mia shake her off? There was no sign of the woman. I moved to the passenger seat, breathing heavily and sweating.
“What happened?” She asked, keeping the RV at a steady 50 mph.
“There was a woman on the roof,” I said flatly.
I realize now that I was in a kind of shock.
“A woman?”
“Her eyes were black.”
Mia just looked at me, then back at the tunnel ahead of us.
“There’s something wrong with this tunnel.” I whispered.
Mia pointed at the road ahead, “Look.”
I looked out at the tunnel. There were more mannequins. A LOT more mannequins. They were positioned on both sides of the road.
They were all facing us and even though I never saw them move, when I looked in the side-view mirror, they were somehow STILL facing us, turning to watch us as we drove past. Watching without eyes.
“Just keep driving.” I said.
As we drove on, the mannequins crowded the sides of the road more and more. There were thousands of them. Eventually they were so close that some of their outstretched arms hit the side of the RV.
They were closing in on us. Squeezing our path forward. One stood in the middle of the road.
“I don’t think i can get around it.”
“Run it over. Don’t stop.”
The RV smashed into the mannequin. Its head shot forward and bounced against the windshield and the vehicle shuddered as it rolled over the body.
Soon there were two in the road. Then three.
I could see where this was going. Pretty soon there would be too many for the RV to ram through, but goddammit we were going to get through as many as we could.
“Speed up, Mia.”
CRASH!
The sound was surreal, smashing into mannequin after mannequin at nearly 60 miles per hour.
Hands, legs, heads and torsos flew.
The windshield cracked, the RV shuddered and screamed and eventually slowed down, despite the screaming engine.
I’m certain the axle was jammed up with lifeless, plastic body parts. Eventually we came to a stop.
“She won’t move,” Mia said.
She pressed on the gas but it was no use, the RV just rocked a little bit.
“Try reverse.”
She shifted and pressed on the gas, we got some decent movement before running into another jam.
“Fuck.”
“Should we get out and look?” Mia asked.
“I’ll go,” I said as I grabbed the flashlight and popped the passenger door. Mia unbuckled her seatbelt.
“We’ll go together.”
We stumbled out of the RV on the passenger side. It was like stepping into Hell.
Countless, lifeless faces stared out at us from the darkness. The only light came from the headlights of the RV and my flashlight.
We clumsily made our way along the side of the RV. The ground was littered with mannequin pieces.
I thought to myself, if we could get a couple yards cleared out behind the rear tires, we might be able to back out and get enough momentum to reverse all the way back out of here.
Instead, when we got to the back of the RV, my stomach flipped and my heart sank.
I was expecting to see a trail of flattened mannequins, instead the RV was now surrounded by thousands of perfectly intact mannequins standing at attention. As if their ranks had some how been replenished after our vehicular assault.
“This is impossible.”
She started to cry. I held her close.
“We’ll keep moving.” I said.
“It will never end. The tunnel makes no sense. It only curves one direction.”
I looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“This whole time the tunnel has only been curving to the right. it would sometimes straighten out or go left for a few yards but before too long we were curving to the right again. We’ve either been driving in circles or spiraling downwards.”
“So we’ll go back the way we came and hope we’re not going in circles.” I said.
We had been driving for hours at this point. Walking back out the way we came would take days. But now that I thought about it, Mia was right, we’d only been curving to the right.
This tunnel seemed to be very gradually taking us downwards into the earth.
Going forward would not get us any closer to escape.
“We’ll need food from the RV,” Mia said.
I nodded and we stumbled our way back to the front of the RV, the mannequins’ lifeless faces watching us the whole time.
I stepped up to the passenger door and nearly fell back when I looked through the window.
“What the fuck?” I breathed.
What I saw were two mannequins sitting in the driver’s and passenger’s seat.
How they got in there? I have no idea, but what really made my blood run cold was that they were dressed EXACTLY like MIA and I.
They wore identical sets of clothes. The one in the passenger seat had my same New Order T-shirt and black jeans. The one in the driver’s seat had Mia’s green striped sweater and denim shorts.
Their plastic faces stared out through the shattered windshield at the endless crowd of mannequins staring back at them.
Mia stepped up and saw the uncanny display.
“What the fuck?” Mia echoed.
I pulled myself up into the RV and slowly stepped around my mannequin doppelgänger. I avoided looking into its face but I swear i could feel it watching me as I stumbled around it.
Mia followed and we made our way into the back of our dark RV. Luckily we had just stocked our cooler full of deli meat and water not long after crossing the Colorado state line.
I handed Mia the flashlight and pulled open the cooler. I filled a backpack full of food and water.
I turned and saw them–
My mannequin double had somehow moved. It was standing in the aisle watching us.
Mia’s doppelgänger was still seated in the driver’s seat but had turned to peer back at us with its eyeless gaze.
Mia saw the look in my eyes and turned. She screamed when she saw them and backed into me. I put my arm around her and we stood there a moment, letting our skyrocketing heart rates return to Earth.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said.
I slid the backpack onto my shoulders.
Mia joined me at the door. I looked into her eyes. “Are you ready?” She nodded. I kissed her.
“I love you,” I said.
“I love you,” she said.
The look on her face killed me. She was terrified. I’m sure the look on my face was similar.
I opened the door and we stepped out…
We again stumbled to the back of the RV. Once we were clear of the RV and all the crushed mannequin body parts, it became easier to find footing, though weaving through an endless crowd of lifeless people was a slow process.
It was pitch black. Without the flashlight we wouldn’t be able to see a foot in front of us.
As I walked, the beam of light created the illusion of movement in the crowd. At least I hoped it was an illusion.
The limbs of the mannequins seemed to stretch and turn, but the only sound was that of Mia and I shuffling our way through the crowded tunnel.
Things went on like this for what felt like hours. Mia and I were sweating and aching. I was about to suggest we stop and rest, but then I saw it and I froze…
Out in the crowd, beyond rows of blank faces I saw a pale face, black hair and a dead smile.
I saw two vacuous eyes staring right at me.
“Mia, do you see her?” I whispered.
“See who?”
I slowly raised my arm and pointed.
It was the woman, or whatever it was, that stared back at me through the skylight on the roof of the RV.
“Oh my god!” Mia squeaked.
I could see now that the Pale Faced Woman was tall. A few inches taller than the mannequins.
As I pointed, she stared back at me with that terrible grin.
“What do we do?” Mia whispered.
I raised the flashlight and pointed it right at the Pale Faced Woman. I thought maybe this would scare her off.
I was wrong.
The light only made her appear more unsettling as she stared back, unflinchingly.
“What do you want?!” I yelled.
She only stared back at me. She was as still as the mannequins.
“We have to keep going.” I whispered.
Mia didn’t respond. Her body was tense as she held onto me.
“We’ve come this far, we can’t turn back again,” I continued.
I pulled Mia’s hand and we continued on our way through the mannequins, keeping the distance between us and her as wide as possible.
As we moved past, she kept watching us. Though her movements were imperceptible to us, her eyes never left us. Like one of those portraits whose eyes appear to watch you no matter where you stand.
Finally, we got far enough that she was out of sight. But the thought of her being somewhere behind us only unsettled me further and I quickened our pace.
As the hours wore on, there was no sign of the Pale Faced Woman and the crowd of mannequins began to thin out. They still populated the tunnel from one end to the other, but there was more space between them, allowing Mia and I to walk more freely.
The mannequins on the maintenance walkway on the side of the tunnel seemed to thin out as well and I decided it would give us a better vantage if we were walking up there.
I helped Mia climb up the railing that bordered the walkway, then I climbed up behind her. The walkway was elevated 3 or 4 feet above the roadway. We could easily see over the heads of the mannequins in both directions.
There was, of course, no end to the tunnel in sight.
We kept walking.
The mannequins continued to thin out, but they were different now.
There were mannequins dressed as maintenance workers again, but also mannequins dressed as families and businessmen. There was even a group of mannequin nuns standing in a single file line, heads bowed in prayer.
Needless to say, we passed none of this on the way in to the tunnel. I was feeling very hopeless that we were going to be able to find our way out.
I was far beyond speculating how this was at all possible. It’s NOT possible. And even if it were, there is no good reason for someone to do this to us.
The only explanation was the supernatural. Then I saw Her. Rather, I saw THEM.
Arranged in the middle of the tunnel was a circle of mannequins with long black hair and tattered cloth.
They looked exactly like the Pale Faced Woman, minus any facial features. I kept a close watch on them as we passed to make sure they didn’t start following us.
“A door!” Mia shouted.
Mia pointed a few paces ahead of her. There was a door leading into the wall of the tunnel.
We ran towards it. Mia grabbed the handle, turned it and pulled. It was heavy and Mia had to brace her foot on the wall to get it moving.
The metal door groaned as if it hadn’t been opened in years.
Finally, it was open enough to see past.
It was a hallway. It went out about 5 yards then turned right at a 90 degree angle.
The strangest part was the design of the hallway.
It wasn’t cement or pavement like the tunnel.
The walls were wood paneled and the floor was covered in a thick carpet, like a house from the 1970s.
“I say we see where this takes us.” Mia said.
There was no reason to disagree, but I wasn’t going to get us trapped in there.
I opened up my backpack and took out a water bottle. I opened it and handed it to Mia. She drank half, then I drank the other half.
I slowly closed the door, shoving the empty water bottle in the crack to keep it from closing all the way.
I turned to Mia-- “Okay, let’s go.”
We slowly made our way down the quiet hallway. We got down to where the hallway cornered to the right and that’s when we heard it–
KA-CHUNK!!!--
I whipped around. The door had closed behind us. I ran back to it and tried to push it open, but it was no use. There was no way it closed on its own.
Someone had to have removed the water bottle. Our path had been chosen for us.
There was no turning back.
We continued down the hallway. We turned right. The hallway continued, then turned right again. That should have led us right back to the tunnel. But it didn’t. This part of the hallway went on far longer than was possible without running into the tunnel. Then it turned right again.
It went on like this. Sometimes a section of the hallway was 20 feet long, sometimes it was 20 yards long, sometimes it was 3 feet long. But it always turned to the right.
At first it was a relief to be somewhere other than the cold, dark tunnel. But the hallway very quickly became claustrophobic and before too long, I heard someone walking behind us.
We had stopped to take a break and I heard a third pair of footsteps on the carpet coming from behind us. I backtracked to the last corner.
I was terrified as I slowly peeked around the corner, tense and waiting to see the vacuous eyes and inky black hair of the Pale Faced Woman... but there was nothing there. I wasn’t about to backtrack any further.
“There was no one there.” I whispered.
Mia slumped against the wall and slid down to the carpet.
“I think I need to rest.” She said.
I put my backpack down on the ground for Mia to use as a pillow. She laid her head down and was passed out in seconds.
I had no idea how long we had been walking at this point. I stood leaning against the wall. My body was telling me to rest but I couldn’t risk falling asleep. I had to keep watch. I knew SHE was following us.
I took in the details of the hallway for the first time. The carpet was a dull brown and the walls a cheap wood paneling. The hanging lighting fixtures were shaded by stained glass, something you might see in an old diner.
Who built this place? Did someone pick out the carpet and the lighting fixtures? Did a team of workers blast these tunnels into the Earth? Or has this place always existed? Was this Purgatory?
I began to feel dizzy. I was panicking. My heart felt like it was trying to escape my chest. I slumped to the floor and tried to slow my breathing.
I closed my eyes... –
I SHOT up in a panic. I had fallen asleep while I was meant to be keeping watch.
I snapped to my feet and looked around.
Mia was still asleep on my backpack.
Then I noticed that the hallway had changed. A few paces away there was now a plain wooden door in the wall.
I slowly approached it. I put my ear to the door and I could hear what sounded like TV static and the low murmur of voices.
I discreetly grabbed the door handle and turned it slowly. I felt the latch bolt clear and I carefully cracked the door just enough to peek inside.
It was dark, so it took a second for me to register what I was seeing. I saw a small board room. A long table in the center was surrounded by seated men in suits.
At the end of the table stood another man next to an old CRT TV that was playing static. This was the only source of light in the room and all the men around the table were turned towards the tv.
Suddenly the screen flickered from static to a solid dark background. And some warped new age style muzak began playing.
Then the words appeared on the screen that terrified me like nothing else before. In plain text the words read–
“YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I froze as I knew these words were meant for me I watched with terror as the men seated around the table slowly turned toward me in unison.
They were mannequins.
The TV screen then clicked off and they continued staring at me as I could barely make out their forms through the near pitch darkness.
I quickly pulled the door shut. And whipped around to look at Mia, I had a horrible feeling of dread that when I turned around she would be gone, like the message on the TV promised–
“Eric? What are you doing?” Mia was leaning up and staring at me.
Thank God. There was Mia, right where I left her.
I pointed at the door and said, “This door appeared and I--”
“What door?” she interrupted.
I turned and sure enough, the door was now gone.
I explained what happened to her, but I left out the message that appeared on the screen.
-- YOU WILL LOSE HER –
Those words still burned in my brain. I tried to force them out.
We drank water, ate granola and then got moving again.
Hallways. Endless hallways.
After a couple hours of walking we started to hear music. There were small speakers in the corners of the ceiling.
I recognized it as the same new-age muzak that played on the TV in the board room. The melody drilled into our minds. Combined with the dull aesthetics of the quiet hallways and the endless right turns, the music had a hypnotizing effect.
The lengths of the halls became more uniform. That is to say, the straight section of hallway was about 7 paces, then a right turn, then 7 paces and a right turn.
“I think we’re walking in circles... or a square,” Mia said.
I looked at her and took out a bottle of water. I peeled off the plastic label and dropped it on the floor.
Then we kept walking.
7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. 7 paces, right turn. And there it was... Mia was right.
The label from my water bottle lay in the middle of the hallway. Somehow we had been led into a loop. I lost it.
“FUUUCK!”
I kicked the wall repeatedly and screamed. Mia just leaned her back against the wall.
This was our dynamic. If one of us lost it, the other became zen and thought of a solution. More often than not, I was the one to lose it.
I finally stopped freaking out
“There has to be a way out. A door,” Mia said.
“We would have seen it,” I replied.
“A hidden door,” she said.
She turned around and ran her hands along the cracks of the wood paneling.
“Most likely on the outer wall,” she said.
She beat her fist on the wall, listening for a change in the sound. I exhaled heavily, sweating and tired, and I started searching the wall as well.
We checked the whole first wall, nothing. We checked the second wall, nothing. The third, nothing.
The final wall... Nothing. I gave up and slumped on the floor. Mia immediately went over to the other side of the hall and started checking the inner wall.
“What are you doing? I thought you said it would be on the outer wall?” I asked.
Then we heard it.
Mia beat the wall and instead of the dead thud, we heard a resonate BOOM –
A door…
I shot up and started tapping the wall with Mia until we found where the door ended. It was the width of about 4 wooden panels. I lined myself up in the center, lowered my shoulder and pushed–
IT MOVED! It barely moved but it was enough to confirm this actually was a door! I re-centered and tried again, lowering my center of gravity, I pushed as hard as I could. The door pushed inward about 3 inches, then Mia joined in. We slowly moved the door, 5 inches, then 10, then 15, then 20.
Then Mia slipped inside.
I had a moment of panic as she disappeared into the darkness and those haunting words came back into my mind, “YOU WILL LOSE HER.”
I darted past the doorway, falling through the threshold and hitting the concrete floor.
I looked up and there was Mia, thank God. I promised myself I’d never let her out of my sight again.
“The exit...” Mia said.
She looked and sounded as if she were a thousand miles away. I got to my feet and followed her gaze. What I saw nearly brought me to tears.
We were back in the tunnel, but there was light. About a mile down was the mouth of the tunnel, and daylight pouring in. Beautiful daylight. I grabbed Mia tight and kissed her.
“Thank God...” she cried.
We started moving. Nothing was going to slow us down this time. We sped up into a RUN down the maintenance walkway towards that beautiful sunlight.
As we approached, something else came into view. Parked in the middle of the roadway was a large vehicle…
It couldn’t be…
It was!
Our RV sat in the road waiting for us. We ran all the way to it, pulled open the passenger side door and climbed in. There were no mannequins to be seen.
I fell into the driver’s seat and Mia handed me the keys. I turned over the engine, the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard. I shifted into gear and floored it towards the sunlight.
As we got closer, I could see the green of trees and the blue of the sky. We were maybe one hundred yards away.
I turned to Mia, tears in my eyes…
And what I saw turned my blood to ice.
Just beyond Mia’s window, that horrifying pale face grinned at me.
The Pale Faced Woman was somehow floating outside of the RV.
Before I could say anything, her hand smashed through the window and gripped Mia by the throat, then in one horrible motion the thing PULLED MIA SCREAMING THROUGH THE WINDOW AND…
Disappeared…
I SLAMMED on the breaks just as the RV passed through the exit of the tunnel and sunlight flooded the cab of the RV. I threw it in park and shot out of the door screaming.
“Mia!? Mia??!!”
I screamed over and over. I rounded the front of the RV and looked back at the tunnel –
-- and what I saw shattered my mind…
The tunnel was gone.
There was only open road.
I had lost her.

I have wavy/curly hair and this is what I changed:

• no more dyeing
• no more straightening
• use only curly girl approved products
• air dry or diffuse on low heat
• started using curly hair products

I also got into eating much healthier, which could have also had an impact.

Hi, everyone. Okay, so I (26F) know that this is going to be a tall order, but if you had to organize foods based on their textures, how would you do it?
Right now, I’m dealing with PMDD symptoms, and the idea of eating just makes me think, “I have to eat, again? You’ve got to be kidding me.” My 27th birthday is next week, and I have no idea where I want to go out to eat with my family, or what I want to eat.
(PMDD is like PMS on steroids, for anyone who doesn’t know. I’m on an IUD implant since December for symptom management, but I still get some hormonal symptoms.)
Nothing is really appealing to eat right now, either mentally or physically, so I’m trying to make a list of food textures, starting first with food groups.
I’ve gotten a lot better and adventurous with food textures as I’ve gotten older, because I used to be hypersensitive due to autism. Now, the pendulum has swung in the opposite direction, in part due to depression, and any kind of food is just “meh” to me, even if it’s cooked and seasoned perfectly.
So far, I have a few descriptions for animal meat, and that’s it. On the other hand, I’ve found white fish meat to be very “flaky” and much less of a “meaty” texture than animal meat. Albacore tuna has a texture that’s very similar to chunky canned chicken.

• Crumbly: Ground beef
• Chewy: Tough beef
• Stiff: Chicken breast
• Wet: Rare steak
• Dry: Baked turkey

Fruits are tricky, because so many of them are “wet” in some way, which makes organizing them difficult. And the only thing that I could think about for broccoli/cauliflower is “al dente” when cooked or “tender” if overcooked and “crunchy” when raw.
I’m keto, so I currently don’t eat traditional bread products, pasta/rice, or sweets/desserts, apart from special occasions. But I do know that low-carb bread has a denser, chewier texture than regular American-type bread.
I know that I’m definitely having some type of hyposensitivity issues right now, because I could eat a mixed-texture food, like salad, and have a difficult time noticing individual textures.
Now, I know that don’t like grape tomatoes raw, because they “pop” when they’re whole, but cut them into pieces and then they’re fine. Similar thing with avocado because I don’t like it mashed by itself, but it’s fine when mixed with something else.
I’m trying to see what my current level of sensory perception is, and it’s not going well. I don’t know if I’m losing mindfulness/awareness or what, but I’m going to talk with my therapist about it tomorrow. Still waiting on the practice to hire a new psychiatrist.
I also started taking some supplemental zinc (25mg) on 5/16 because I’m wondering if that will improve the lack of interest in food and lack of taste satisfaction. I already take a multivitamin, but I know that sometimes, your body needs more than that. If that doesn’t show any improvement after two weeks, then there’s no harm in stopping it.

For some context, I got married to my husband B, over 1 year ago and I cannot help but wonder if my husband loves me or not? So, back 2 years ago, I got married to B, over arranged marriage because in my culture it's a good option and culturally appropriate since my pervious boyfriend's were all jerks. So, during initial interactions, B was very calm and mature with me and seemed a genuinely nice guy. It also really added to his good looks and high income that I could not refuse the offer and also after a few interaction we decided to get married. But as soon, as we got married, he started interacting less and less with me, I mean he did not even spent the first night with me, and over 3 months our bedroom life was quite dry.
He was still a good partner to have, if I asked for some moeny he will give me no questions asked, he was not jealous or abusive, but it was just like living with a roommate, I did try to spice up things, but he would always reject me or turn me down, in fits, I would also curse him or try to argue with him but he just ignored me most of these times. In between all this, my job got the better of me and I got sick due to overworking. I could not care less about telling him as I thought it would just anger him so I just took a leave and spent the whole day in the bed, but to my surprise when B got home and saw me sick, he started to be really caring and asked me why did I not tell him earlier or how bad was it etc. During the 4 days which my fever remained, he quitely took all over the house chores got me breakfast, lunch and dinner, and regularly took care of me, he even slept close to me while regularly using ice strips. It was during those days that I first saw him actually show me a warm smile and while serving me breakfast. Even before leaving for work, he would cook meals for me and left me special notes in case of emergency. At first I was skeptical as to how much can a person change so I did not respond much to him as he did to me usually.
After I got well, he reverted back to the old pattern. And this situation happened two more times, around the third time I asked him why he is he being so nice to me all this time and not to me usually when I am more healthy, I mentioned that at the start of our marriage I literally begged for some of his attention and now he is literally taking days off of work to acre for me? After patiently listening to all this, he got really flustered and embarrased and just left my room. I felt bad for saying all this to him and the next day when he brought me breakfast as usual, I apologized to him and he said it's okay and water under the bridge. But what happened yesterday really shook me, see until yesterday I thought he did not really love and was forced in this marriage by his parents which is what usually happens in arranged marriages.
But yesterday, when I was trying to sleep, he opened my door and brought a glass of warm water and kept it beside and after a few seconds, he literally whispered "I love you.", and I felt a soft kiss on my forehead. He left while giggling and I was so excited and confused, I just could not sleep all night. I am writing this today all sleep deprived and confused, what to do now? Is he just manipulating me, gaslighting me or does he actually care?

Hello. This will be long but I need help.
I have suffered from a low self esteem for as long as I can remember which has specially gotten worse in the last 3 years.
I’m the youngest of 4 siblings with loving parents and have had a nice environment at home overall. My siblings and I have a pretty big age gap so I will say that I always had two sets of parents hovering over me and trying to control me.
Academically I’ve always been slow. Never got good grades, was admitted into a pretty average university and never got to complete my undergrad degree because I had to start working.
You could say I’m street smart so I kicked off my career with a wonderful job (without a degree), gained experienced, got another amazing job and so on.
It was in 2021 that I had to leave my job as I was getting married and moving to a different city and then in 2022 to a different country where unfortunately I can neither study nor work due to my visa limitations.
This has brought a huge toll on me now. I look at my age fellows and see how much they’ve achieved in life and it makes me wonder why I was never able to do so. I find it difficult to make friends because I’m constantly worried about what they’ll think of me. If I say something dumb to somebody, I replay that scene in my mind over and over again thinking how I embarrassed myself. I don’t value my own thoughts, goals, or dreams and like to put myself in the backseat so other people can come forward, so much so that I left everything and moved to a different country only for my husband to fulfil his academic plans.
I am always trying to please people, always trying to get everyone’s validation, cannot set boundaries, I am afraid to ask for help because I think it will make me look weak, I don’t see a positive future for myself ever, I don’t like how I look physically now because I’ve completely lost my spark in the last 3 years.
I need help. I want to do something about this because now it has gotten to a point where it is affecting me in many more ways that I could have ever imagined.

Hello. I have been playing this game for a few weeks and everything was alright. Grinding XP kind of sucked but I've had worse grinds.
But then I exposed a major flaw in the catching system. While laying in bed playing Let's Go Pikachu in handheld mode, I was trying to catch Moltres. It wasn't going well and I was getting sweaty in an attempt to defeat this children's game. In my excitement, I applied too much pressure to the right side of my switch and my joycon snapped off on that side (third party). I tried to press it back in, but the pressure caused the Switch to slip out of my grip and launch itself like a hellfire missile into my upper lip.
Now I am bleeding profusely in my mouth and I have no controllers, except for the Pro controller which is not allowed because of the low risk of personal injury. I know a lot of people say they like the catching system, but I have played many Pokemon games and this is the first one to make me bleed. I think they should consider tweaking the difficulty so that nobody is bleeding or sad.
Thank you.