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Introduction

In our technologically advanced era, businesses strive to stay ahead of the curve by adopting cutting-edge solutions that enhance efficiency and engagement. AIDuals emerges as a game-changing tool that harnesses the power of artificial intelligence (AI) to create personalized digital assistants or "clones" tailored to your unique communication style. By combining AI with 3D animation, AIDuals delivers an interactive and engaging experience for your website visitors, customers, and prospects.

Features and Content of AIDuals

AIDuals is a comprehensive platform that empowers you to create AI-powered clones that can handle a wide range of tasks, from customer support and content creation to lead generation and social media management. Here are some of the key features that make AIDuals stand out:

Personalized AI Clones

The core feature of AIDuals is its ability to create personalized AI clones that mimic your communication style, tone, and mannerisms. By analyzing your existing data, such as emails, social media posts, and even voice recordings, AIDuals can train an AI model to generate responses that sound like they're coming directly from you.

3D Animated Characters

AIDuals takes the user experience to the next level by offering 3D animated characters that represent your AI clones. These visually appealing and dynamic characters enhance the interactivity of your website, making the experience more engaging and memorable for your visitors.

Multilingual Support

In today's global marketplace, it's essential to cater to a diverse audience. AIDuals recognizes this need and allows your AI clones to communicate in multiple languages, including English, Hindi, Spanish, French, and German, ensuring that your services are accessible to a broader audience.

Customization Options

AIDuals provides extensive customization options that enable you to tailor your AI clones to fit your specific business needs. You can adjust the clone's behavior, set operational parameters, and even customize the 3D avatar's appearance by incorporating your brand logo.

Integration Capabilities

AIDuals seamlessly integrates with your existing digital platforms, such as websites, e-commerce stores, and mobile apps. Additionally, it supports integration with popular messaging apps like WhatsApp, Telegram, and Slack, ensuring that your AI clones can interact with your customers across multiple channels.

Advanced Training

To ensure your AI clones are as knowledgeable and accurate as possible, AIDuals allows you to train them using various data sources, including websites, social media platforms, documents, PDFs, and even multimedia files like images, videos, and audio recordings.

Benefits and Who Can Benefit from AIDuals

AIDuals offers a wide range of benefits that can be leveraged across various industries and business types. Here are some of the key advantages and potential beneficiaries:

Improved Customer Engagement

By providing 24/7 interactive support through AI clones, businesses can significantly enhance customer engagement and satisfaction. This feature is particularly beneficial for e-commerce businesses, service providers, and companies with a global customer base.

Increased Productivity

AIDuals empowers businesses to automate a wide range of tasks, from content creation and social media management to lead generation and customer support. By offloading these responsibilities to AI clones, businesses can free up valuable time and resources, allowing their human workforce to focus on more strategic and creative endeavors.

Personalized Marketing and Sales

The ability to create personalized AI clones opens up new opportunities for businesses to deliver tailored marketing and sales experiences. AI clones can engage with prospects and customers on a more personal level, providing customized recommendations and addressing specific needs or concerns.

Language Barrier Reduction

With multilingual support, AIDuals enables businesses to break down language barriers and cater to a global audience. This feature is particularly valuable for companies expanding into international markets or serving customers from diverse linguistic backgrounds.

Cost-Effective Solution

Compared to hiring and training human resources, AIDuals offers a cost-effective solution for businesses looking to automate various tasks and processes. By leveraging AI clones, businesses can save on salaries, benefits, and training costs while maintaining a high level of performance and efficiency.

How to Profit from the Use of AIDuals

AIDuals presents numerous opportunities for businesses to generate revenue and increase profits. Here are some potential strategies:

AI-Powered Digital Marketing Agency

With AIDuals, you can establish and operate a fully automated digital marketing agency. Your AI clones can handle client interactions, generate leads, create content, manage social media campaigns, and more, enabling you to scale your services effectively.

Monetize Your AI Clones

AIDuals provides the ability to monetize your AI clones by offering personalized AI services to clients under your own brand. You can charge clients for access to your AI clones, which can handle tasks like customer support, content creation, or virtual assistance.

Increased Sales and Conversions

By leveraging AI clones for personalized product recommendations, targeted marketing campaigns, and real-time customer support, businesses can potentially increase sales and conversions, resulting in higher revenue and profitability.

Reduced Operational Costs

By automating various tasks and processes with AI clones, businesses can significantly reduce operational costs associated with hiring and training human resources. This cost savings can contribute directly to increased profits.

How to Use AIDuals

Using AIDuals is a straightforward process that can be divided into three main steps:

1. Data Collection and Analysis: The first step involves gathering your communication data, such as emails, social media posts, and voice recordings. AIDuals then analyzes this data to understand your unique communication style and patterns.
2. AI Model Training and 3D Character Creation: Based on the analyzed data, AIDuals trains an AI model to mimic your communication style and generates a 3D animated character that represents your AI clone.
3. Integration and Customization: Once the AI model and character are ready, you can integrate your AI clone into your desired platforms, such as websites, mobile apps, or digital marketing channels. During this phase, you can customize various settings, including the clone's behavior, operational parameters, and visual appearance.

My Used Case Study for AIDuals

As a marketing consultant, I have firsthand experience using AIDuals to streamline my operations and enhance client engagement. I created an AI clone based on my communication style and integrated it into my website and client portals.
The AI clone has been instrumental in handling initial client inquiries, providing personalized recommendations, and managing ongoing client communication. This has allowed me to focus more on strategic planning and high-level tasks while ensuring that my clients receive prompt and personalized support.
Additionally, I have leveraged the AI clone for content creation, including blog posts, social media updates, and email campaigns. The clone's ability to understand and mimic my writing style has been a game-changer, saving me significant time and effort.
Overall, AIDuals has helped me improve operational efficiency, enhance client satisfaction, and scale my business more effectively.

AIDuals Funnel and OTOs

AIDuals offers a comprehensive funnel with various upsell opportunities (OTOs) to cater to different business needs and requirements:

1. Front-End Offer (AIDuals Premium): The front-end offer includes the core AIDuals platform, allowing you to create personalized AI clones, embed them on your website, and customize various aspects like behavior, goals, and visual appearance.
2. OTO 1 (AIDuals Agency): This upgrade provides additional features and resources for running a full-fledged AI-powered digital marketing agency. It includes advanced tools for lead generation, campaign management, and client onboarding.
3. OTO 2 (AIDuals Mastery): The Mastery package offers in-depth training and resources to help you master AIDuals and maximize its potential. It includes video tutorials, case studies, and expert guidance.
4. OTO 3 (AIDuals Unlimited): This upsell removes the monthly credit limitations, allowing you to create and deploy unlimited AI clones without restrictions.
5. OTO 4 (AIDuals White Label): With the White Label option, you can rebrand AIDuals as your own product and resell it to your customers or clients, creating an additional revenue stream.

AIDuals Pros and Cons

Like any product, AIDuals has its strengths and weaknesses. Here are some notable pros and cons:
Pros:

• Personalized AI clones that mimic your communication style
• Engaging 3D animated characters for enhanced user experience
• Multilingual support for global reach
• Extensive customization options for branding and personalization
• Seamless integration with various digital platforms

Cons:

• Limited control over the AI's decision-making process, which may raise ethical concerns in certain scenarios
• Ongoing maintenance and updates may be required to keep the AI clones performing optimally

AIDuals Money-Back Policy

AIDuals offers a 30-day money-back guarantee, providing customers with the opportunity to try the platform risk-free. If you're not satisfied with the product or its performance, you can request a full refund within the 30-day window, ensuring that your investment is protected.

AIDuals Price

The pricing structure for AIDuals is as follows:

• AIDuals Premium (Front-End Offer): $67 (one-time payment)
• OTO 1 (AIDuals Agency): $97 (one-time payment)
• OTO 2 (AIDuals Mastery): $47 (one-time payment)
• OTO 3 (AIDuals Unlimited): $197 (one-time payment)
• OTO 4 (AIDuals White Label): $297 (one-time payment)

It's worth noting that the pricing may be subject to change, and special discounts or bundle deals may be offered during promotional periods.

AIDuals Bundle Deal

AIDuals often provides a bundled package that includes the front-end offer and various OTOs at a discounted price. This bundle deal offers excellent value for those looking to unlock the full potential of AIDuals and take advantage of all its features and upgrades.

Who Created AIDuals?

AIDuals is the brainchild of Abhi Dwivedi, a seasoned entrepreneur, software developer, and online marketer. With over 18 years of experience in the industry, Abhi has been instrumental in launching multiple successful software products and online ventures.
Abhi's team comprises skilled developers, marketers, and AI experts who have collaborated to create AIDuals, a cutting-edge solution that harnesses the power of AI to revolutionize the way businesses operate and engage with their audience.

When AIDuals is Launched

AIDuals is set to launch on May 28th, 2024, at 11:00 AM EST. This highly anticipated launch promises to introduce a game-changing product that will empower businesses to leverage AI technology effectively and efficiently.

Platform or Website for Accessing AIDuals

AIDuals can be accessed through its official website, www.aiduals.com. This website serves as the central hub for purchasing the product, accessing resources, and connecting with the AIDuals community.

Platform or Website for Launching AIDuals

AIDuals is being launched on the JVZoo platform, a well-established and reputable marketplace for digital products and services. JVZoo provides a secure and reliable platform for product launches, affiliate marketing, and customer support.

AIDuals Bonuses

To sweeten the deal and provide added value, AIDuals often offers a range of bonuses to its customers. These bonuses may include:

• Access to exclusive training materials and video tutorials
• Templates and resources for various marketing and business tasks
• Complementary software tools or plugins
• Membership to a private Facebook group or community
• Special discounts or credits for future product upgrades or launches

The specific bonuses may vary from launch to launch, so it's essential to check the official AIDuals website or promotional materials for the latest information.

Should You Use AIDuals or Not?

The decision to use AIDuals ultimately depends on your specific business needs, goals, and resources. Here are a few considerations to help you determine if AIDuals is the right fit for you:
Reasons to Use AIDuals:

• You want to automate repetitive and time-consuming tasks, freeing up your time for more strategic endeavors
• You need to provide 24/7 customer support or assistance to your clients or customers
• You're looking to enhance user engagement and interactivity on your website or digital platforms
• You require personalized content creation or marketing materials tailored to your brand's voice and style
• You want to leverage AI technology to gain a competitive edge in your industry
• You're interested in exploring the potential of AI-powered digital marketing agencies

Reasons Not to Use AIDuals:

• Your business deals with highly sensitive or confidential information that may raise privacy or security concerns
• You prefer to maintain complete control over all communication and interactions with your customers
• You have a very limited budget and cannot justify the investment in AIDuals

Ultimately, it's essential to carefully evaluate your specific needs, resources, and goals to determine if AIDuals aligns with your business objectives and ethical standards.

Click Here to Get Access to AIDuals When It Launches On 28th May; 2024 @ 11AM EST

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Conclusion

AIDuals is a groundbreaking product that harnesses the power of artificial intelligence to create personalized digital assistants or "clones" that can revolutionize the way businesses operate and engage with their audience. By combining AI technology with 3D animation, AIDuals delivers an interactive and engaging experience that enhances customer satisfaction and operational efficiency.
With its ability to automate a wide range of tasks, from customer support and content creation to lead generation and social media management, AIDuals offers a cost-effective solution for businesses looking to streamline their operations and stay ahead of the competition.
Whether you're an e-commerce business, a service provider, or a digital marketing agency, AIDuals can be a game-changer, allowing you to focus on strategic growth while your AI clones handle the day-to-day tasks seamlessly.
However, it's crucial to carefully consider the potential implications and ethical concerns associated with AI technology, ensuring that its implementation aligns with your business values and principles.
Overall, AIDuals presents an exciting opportunity for businesses to embrace the future of work and leverage the power of AI to drive success and growth in an increasingly competitive digital landscape.

Click Here to Get Access to AIDuals When It Launches On 28th May; 2024 @ 11AM EST

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AIDuals FAQs

1. Is AIDuals easy to use and set up? Yes, AIDuals is designed to be user-friendly and accessible. The setup process is straightforward, and the platform provides step-by-step guidance to help you create and customize your AI clones.
2. How long does it take to train an AI clone? The time required to train an AI clone depends on the amount of data you provide and the complexity of your communication style. Generally, the more data you can provide, the more accurate and personalized the AI clone will be.
3. Can I use AIDuals for multiple languages? Absolutely! AIDuals supports multiple languages, allowing your AI clones to communicate with your customers or clients in their preferred language.
4. Is my data secure with AIDuals? Yes, AIDuals takes data security and privacy very seriously. They employ robust security measures and encryption protocols to protect your data and ensure compliance with relevant regulations.
5. Can I integrate my AI clone with third-party platforms? Yes, AIDuals offers integration capabilities with various third-party platforms, including websites, e-commerce stores, mobile apps, and messaging apps like WhatsApp and Telegram.
6. How often do I need to update or retrain my AI clone? It's recommended to periodically update and retrain your AI clone to ensure it stays up-to-date with any changes in your communication style or business operations. The frequency will depend on your specific needs and the rate of change in your industry or business.
7. Can I monetize my AI clone using AIDuals? Yes, AIDuals provides the option to monetize your AI clones by offering personalized AI services to clients under your own brand. You can charge clients for access to your AI clones and their capabilities.

Click Here to Get Access to AIDuals When It Launches On 28th May; 2024 @ 11AM EST

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FTC Affiliate Commission Disclaimer

Please note that as an affiliate, I may earn a commission from qualifying purchases made through the links provided in this article. However, this does not influence my opinion or evaluation of the product. My goal is to provide an honest and unbiased review to assist readers in making informed decisions.

Click Here to Get Access to AIDuals When It Launches On 28th May; 2024 @ 11AM EST

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[Part 1]
Day 3
I woke the next morning from the sunshine in my eyes. My head was resting ever so slightly on Eli's arm as we had both fallen asleep on my bed after I begged him to stay. I blanched in horror at the drool stain I had left on the arm of his white t-shirt.
I began to slowly move myself and retreat downstairs as the memories of the night before came flooding back. How I had broken, screaming in terror, and how Eli had saved me, not knowing the true reason he found me curled up on the floor crying.
As I stepped off the bed, my leg got snagged in the frilly bed cover, and I went crashing to the ground, making quite the noise as I landed. With a yawn, Eli's eyes opened, and I felt myself blushing as he turned to look at me.
We both kind of stared at each other for a moment, not speaking. Eli opened his mouth, then closed it again as if unsure of what to say.
"Coffee?" I asked quickly, filling the awkwardness of our situation.
"Please," Eli said, smiling.
In minutes, I had a pot brewing as I leaned against the kitchen counter. Eli was picking up the scattered photographs from the floor and looking at them quizzically.
"Why do you have pictures of the Harmons?" Eli asked, showing me the photos of the yellow-haired man and his family.
"Is that their names? I found them out in the barn under a blanket," I answered as I rooted around the cupboards for two mugs.
"In the barn? I cleaned it out just last week. No way I would have missed this trunk," Eli said while examining the wooden trunk with its simple rustic hinges. It was plain and unadorned with any embellishments. Basic as basic could be.
"Well, you must have missed it because it was there," I said, putting emphasis on the "was" in a way that reminded me of my mother chastising my father.
"That's so weird," he said, shifting through the photos while sitting at the table. I brought him a cup of coffee and sugar, and he began absentmindedly adding a lot of sugar to his coffee. About six scoops later, he began stirring and sipping it.
"Well, anyways, thanks for coming last night. I wasn't myself, I hope you know that I'm not some damsel in distress," I said quickly, like word vomit, and I even chuckled at the end, feeling like a total weirdo.
"What happened anyway? You didn't say last night," he said, putting the photos down in a jumble on the table.
I paused for a moment, considering how to answer. As I sipped my coffee, I stared out into the yard beside the barn where the scarecrow stood, glancing around the edge of the barn, hanging limply in his hole. His appearance once again sad and dejected instead of murderous and terrifying.
"I was just scared, I had a nightmare, and it just scared me," I said dumbly, trying not to turn crimson again under his intense gaze.
His eyes seemed to cut right through my lie, as if he were staring directly into my being before he simply glanced away out the window. We fell silent again, and I filled some moments by sipping my drink. It seemed to revitalize me; the sun and the company made me feel secure.
"Why were you here anyways?" I asked after a moment.
"I heard screaming, so I came running. I live just on the other side of the grass there, behind the barn," Eli said, pointing to the barn out the window.
"Must be really close, I didn't see any houses on the way in," I said, prying deeper into the situation.
"It's actually a trailer, maybe like two hundred yards from here. I was outside getting some air when I heard you scream. So, I came running," Eli said, finishing his cup of coffee and placing it in between us like a barrier, as if he was hiding something.
"Could you, uh, not do that?" Eli asked, with an uncertain grin on his face.
"What am I doing exactly?" I asked, startled for a moment, my stomach doing a sort of flip.
"It's just that you like stare at people. You've been staring at me for like my whole cup of coffee, I don't think you blinked the whole time," Eli said, averting his eyes shyly.
"No, I don't," I said until I realized he was right. I never noticed that about myself.
"Right, well, I've got to go. I am probably going to start painting today, so you might see me in a bit," Eli said, rising and heading to the door.
"Wait," I said, grabbing his arm for only a moment before releasing it like it was scalding hot.
Eli glanced at my hand for a moment, then at his arm, before he, too, blushed crimson.
"I just wanted to say thank you again. For last night, I mean. Well, what I mean is I appreciate it," I said, my eyes downcast in, for some reason, shame. Like he had seen me at my weakest and it weighed on my gaze appropriately.
"It was nothing, besides I didn't get much sleep with your constant snoring," Eli said, laughing at me.
"I so don't snore," I said, swatting at him but unable to control a smile creeping up onto my face.
After Eli left, I felt instantly colder, my eyes kept returning to the scarecrow. I grabbed my camera from upstairs and went out to the yard. I scanned the dirt for anything out of the ordinary. There was no blood, or anything on the dirt where the scarecrow stood just last night. I slowly made my way to the scarecrow, but nothing happened. I snapped a photo of the inanimate object, and it didn't even flinch. I poked it, but all I felt was straw underneath its clothes. I removed its mask, expecting a severed head, but it was just straw. Nothing was here but straw. I dropped the mask on the ground and took another photo proving it was just straw and nothing else.
An idea struck me as I regarded the source of my torment. If I planned to stay even one more night here, I needed to do something about this scarecrow. I rooted around in the barn, a series of tools hung from nails in the wall. On one hung what I was searching for. An old rusted shovel with a dirty wooden handle that was worn smooth from use.
I returned to the side of the barn beside the scarecrow, knowing for whatever reason this thing only came when night fell and didn't react at all when I moved or touched it during the day.
Before my morning coffee had even settled, I began to dig at the dusty earth, loose and easy to dig, it came away in shovelfuls. Within an hour, I had a fair-sized hole in front of me. Sweat dripped from my brow, and when I wiped under my eyes, they came away black from last night's makeup. Glancing at the field of grass and knowing Eli could appear at any time, I decided to head inside and shower. The hot water was a godsend, and I lingered for longer, letting the water drain down my head and back, my eyes closed, trying to forget the images from the last two nights. I should just pack up my car and leave right this minute. But how could I explain this to my family? I decided to go through with my plan and bury the scarecrow. I could last one more night if I prepared for it.
I left the shower and dressed modestly, in another one of my old rock t-shirts and a pair of shorts. I returned to the yard and with a satisfying push, I dropped the scarecrow into the pit. It fell with a nice thud, and I smiled at my power over it in the day; it's just at night when I should fear it.
As I threw the first shovel of dirt back on top, I heard a noise in the grass, and it parted, revealing Eli wearing the same pair of jeans and work boots, but he had changed his shirt to a plain black one. In each hand, he held cans of paint and a brush.
"Should I even ask why you are burying that old scarecrow?" He asked as he came to stand beside me.
"Probably best if you didn't," I admitted, leaning on the shovel.
"Well, I'm going to anyway. Polly, why are you burying that old scarecrow?" He asked, a rare smile coming to his face.
"Because it's been haunting me at night," I said bluntly.
"Mhm, yeah, okay. Fine, don't tell me. I've been meaning to get rid of it anyway, but normal people take things to the landfill," Eli said with a smirk as he turned to the house and began setting up for his painting.
I finished burying the scarecrow and stomped the dirt down flat. I finished my job by moving my car and parking it directly over top of the spot where I buried it.
Eli watched me curiously but didn't remark. I returned the shovel to the barn and went out into the yard. I decided to go for a hike around the property. I needed some time alone to think and unwind.
As I made my way through the grass, it began to confuse me. This had obviously been a large farmland, but how had the wild plants grown in such a thick, endless maze of greenery?
It gave me an eerie feeling, like I was being watched as the grass covered three-quarters of my body, like there would be something lurking out in the grass, crouched low, waiting for me.
After a half-hour or so, I came upon a clear lake, only big enough to be considered an old swimming hole, I thought as I dipped my hand into the cool water.
I took off my outer clothes and decided to go for a swim. I lowered myself in slowly and reveled at the cool water. The pond wasn't deep, but the water was clean. A small rope swing had been hung from a large oak tree that bordered the pond. It also provided a nice layer of shade that made it the ideal spot to spend the day. I floated on my back in the water for what seemed like hours. The day seemed to slip away from me. A small beach of sand sat at one side of the pond, so I lay out in the sun and closed my eyes. The warm day warmed my soul, and soon I felt myself drifting off into sleep.
I awoke to the sound of crickets and darkness. I couldn't believe it. I had slept through the day; the long nights had finally caught up to me, and now I was stuck far away from the farmhouse. I didn't know if my plan with the scarecrow had worked, and this wasn't the place to test my theory.
A full moon lay overhead, casting a silvery glow on the world before me. A sea of grass swayed gently in the wind, sending shivers down it in shuddering waves. I looked around, but I was thankfully alone, just the crickets chirping along melodically as my only companions.
I had to make it back to the house, so I started on my way, my hands trailing along the tall grass. The pale light played easily on the deep green grass. Step by step, I made my way back towards the farmhouse and the barn, throwing caution to the wind, and I started to jog along, anything to get back faster. I would have to find Eli; maybe if we were together, he could stop it like before.
If I thought the field was creepy during the day, by night, it was a whole new world. Every sound made my heart stop for a beat before restarting in protest. When all of a sudden, the crickets stopped chirping. I dropped to my knees, letting the long grass cover me from sight. Through the strands, I could make out a shape moving slowly through the tall grass, the swish of the plants as it made its passage through them. My heart dropped. Was this Eli looking for me, or was it the scarecrow come for me?
That's when I heard a voice, a voice cutting through the silence. It started off quiet and raspy as it sang an eerie children's song.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek
The world it claims that I be not clean
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
I was frozen to the spot. It hadn't found me, but it knew I was in the grass somewhere. Now, with each word, chewed up and spat out like it was unhappy with it, now it was accompanied by the whistle of something in the air and a slicing sound as it cut through the grass around me.
It finished another round of its song, but now it stood within feet of me, its blade whistling as it cut. I took a moment to ready myself, and as it raised its blade to cut through the grass I hid in, I dashed out of my hiding spot and slammed into it. But nothing resisted me; I fell through it like it was a ghost.
In a tangle of limbs, I landed hard on the ground and tried quickly rolling to my feet. The blade of its weapon pierced the earth beside me. Now I could see it was a two-handed scythe the scarecrow carried, but something was off, its hands were human. Pale milky skin like a newborn baby. I had little time to examine the creature except for the canvas bag over its head. Two large black eyes came out of the slits that leaked a dark red blood like tears.
It screeched loudly and swung its scythe, but it was slow, and I took off through the grass in the direction of what I hoped was the farmhouse.
I completely gave up all pretense of hiding and sprinted as fast as I could without looking back. The grass seemed to part for me as I ran in terror. I was just glad that in high school, I had taken track as it was paying off now.
I could hear the noise of footsteps behind me, but I never turned. I ran and ran until my lungs felt like they were going to burst Something silver flashed to my left, and I tripped over something hard and unexpected. The wind was driven from my lungs as my chin slammed hard into the earth. I scrambled back, trying to escape, but the scarecrow was on me, its blade flashing angrily in the pale moonlight.
I wanted to move, I wanted to fight, but my body was weak and unable to catch its breath, and I lay there helpless as it swung its scythe towards me. I closed my eyes in fear, but I only heard the thud of dirt before I opened my eyes. The scythe was discarded, and the scarecrow stood staring at me.
It seemed to be struggling with something, one hand reached out towards me only to be snapped back to its side. A roar of rage pierced the canvas sack over its head as it struggled against its invisible bonds. For a moment, I thought I saw something behind it, three sets of hands holding it back. One feminine in nature, and the other two must have belonged to children. In a flash, I saw a beautiful woman who looked vaguely familiar with her long brown hair and plain dress.
"Run," she moaned as the scarecrow swung around wildly.
I didn't hesitate and fled, my breath had returned, and while my body still ached from my fall, I powered on, knowing this was the only respite I would receive tonight.
In the distance, I could see a small sheet metal shape; Eli's trailer was slowly coming closer as I ran, and I beelined it for the trailer. I could hear the footsteps behind me again as the scarecrow resumed its chase after me.
I reached the old trailer and banged on the door as loud as I could; I rattled the handle, but it was locked.
"Eli, it's me. It's Polly, please let me in. Please," I begged as I banged over and over again on the door of his trailer.
Nothing responded to me, and the trailer was dark. The single window in the back held no life inside the trailer. From the trailer, I couldn't tell which direction the farmhouse was in the dark, so I fled into the tall grass and crouched low, watching the clearing around the trailer.
While I caught my breath, I watched the scarecrow enter the clearing, its scythe back in its hand as it circled the trailer. When its raspy voice began singing again low and quiet, only loud enough for me to hear.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek
The world it claims that I be not clean
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night, I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The song made me shiver uncontrollably at the lyrics and the voice; it sounded demented like a crazy person letting their demons out into a nursery rhyme.
I lay perfectly still; for some reason, it couldn't find me. This creature I assumed was all-knowing seemed to have some very human weaknesses. It moved and talked like a human, even had certain body parts that were from a human; it even felt human the way it chased and reacted.
The scarecrow moved on through the tall grass, and I let out a sigh of relief as it lost my trail. How terrifying that beast was. In my pocket was the keys to my car. Eli had told me that the farmhouse was fairly close to his trailer. I had to navigate to the car, then drive as fast as I can away from this place. The fact that I hadn't left already because I was worried about money was insane. Who cares, I could drive to Barb's and demand my money back. Go home and just tell my parents the truth. The whole reason for actually leaving home this summer, why I was actually here in this field shivering uncontrollably in fear. But I couldn't think about that now, not now, there will be time to deal with that later. Now I needed to focus on staying alive, getting to the car, and getting out of here.
I went in the direction the scarecrow had; he knew the land better than I did, and every noise I made in the silence of the night made my heart drop. It took all my courage there and then to take one step forward, then another. I felt like I was going to be sick; my stomach was in knots to where it felt like even if I was sick, the only thing to come out would be only bile and stomach acid.
With each careful step, I made my way closer to the farmhouse and the scarecrow. Through the darkness, I could see my goal, the farmhouse, and the barn. Within minutes, I had made it securely to the farmhouse yard.
My car still sat in the same spot overtop of the hole where I buried the scarecrow. In the moonlight, I could see that the dirt had not been disturbed.
The scarecrow was nowhere to be seen, and I cautiously made my way to my car, my keys in my hand as I approached the driver's door. I hadn't locked the car, and it opened on the first try. I turned on my car as quietly as I could, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
Something landed heavily on top of the roof of my car, making it dent inwards slightly. With horror, I saw the scarecrow swing its scythe into the back window of my car. With a crash, the glass shattered inwards; I put my car into gear and roared away down the lane. In my rearview mirror, I couldn't see anything, so I swerved back and forth, trying to shake the creature from the roof of my car when the scythe crashed in through the front window, making a hole just large enough for it.
The glass spidered, and I couldn't see out the window very well. I swerved down the road, but the scythe remained in the car, allowing the creature purchase. In a panic, I spun my wheel wildly, trying to dislodge it, but I lost control, and soon felt something crash into the front of my car. The airbag went off in my face, and I hadn't been wearing my seatbelt. I slammed hard into something else, and my vision went dark. I was in a daze; I must have passed out because I don't remember a lot of what happened next. I felt the car door open with a crunching tear, and it landed loudly as it was torn off. My body being grabbed and tossed on the ground. I felt no pain, just a gentle numbness. I felt blood on my head as I raised my arm to touch my face.
Then just blackness, complete, and empty just feelings, fear, unease, sadness. My eyes opened, and the scarecrow was overtop of me. Pain on my chest and my vision went dark again. Coughing as something poured down my throat. I couldn't breathe, why couldn't I breathe?
My eyes opened one last time, and I saw the scarecrow pouring a dark liquid from its mouth directly into my mouth and eyes. My vision was red and bloody before I closed them one last time.
The words of its song echoed into the emptiness of my thoughts.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek?
The world it claims that I be not clean.
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see,
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night, I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The darkness enveloped me, and I felt myself slipping away, the sounds of the night fading into oblivion.
Day 4
When I awoke, it was morning, and I found myself lying in a hospital bed. My head throbbed with pain, and my body ached all over. The memories of the terrifying night flooded back to me, and I shuddered involuntarily.
A nurse entered the room, her kind eyes filled with concern. "You're awake," she said softly, her voice gentle like a soothing balm. "You're lucky to be alive. You were found unconscious by the side of the road next to your car. Do you remember what happened?"
I tried to speak, but my throat felt raw and dry. I croaked out a few words, barely audible. "The scarecrow... it attacked me..."
The nurse frowned, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Scarecrow? What scarecrow?"
My heart raced with panic as I realized the truth. Had it all been a nightmare? But the pain in my body felt too real, the memories too vivid to be mere hallucinations.
I tried to explain, to tell her about the terrifying creature that had pursued me through the night, but she only looked at me with concern, as if I were delusional.
"I'll get the doctor, and there is a young man who brought you in. He has been here all morning," the nurse said with a sly wink.
After a few minutes, she came back with Eli and a doctor, both of whom smiled gently at me through the window. The doctor came in first and went over my health with me. I had a concussion and bruises all over my body. A generous-sized cut from some glass on my scalp had been stitched and bandaged. My mind flashed back to the night before. How the scarecrow had filled me with its gooey red blood.
"Did you find anything else?" I asked cautiously, trying to avoid another scandal like with the nurse.
"No, as long as you have someone to pick you up and take you home, you are free to go. That nice young man out there said he would take you back home," the doctor said, pointing to Eli as he rose with a slight grunt.
I glanced at Eli, and he waved uncertainly at me. The doctor went out and began talking to Eli for a few minutes.
While I waited, my mind began to have strange thoughts. Something was wrong; I felt weird. My vision turned red, and I began to see images before my eyes.
The Harmons. They flashed before my eyes in real-time—the husband hugging his wife, then swinging his kids around, chopping wood outback next to the barn while his wife cooked in the kitchen.
As Eli entered the room, the visions stopped suddenly. Like my saving angel for the third time now, I was extremely grateful to Eli.
"Heyyyyy," Eli said, elongating the word in a sort of familiar yet awkward way.
"Hi," I said, closing my eyes and letting my embarrassment pass in only a few seconds.
"Why is it that fifty percent of the times we meet, you're in serious trouble?" Eli asked, coming to sit on the edge of my bed.
"Oh, you know me, bad luck, I guess," I said simply, becoming aware that under my blankets, I was in a backless hospital gown, and he was inches away from me.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin as a sort of cover for my appearance, but Eli didn't seem to notice. He continued talking to me. It was actually really sweet the way he seemed to care for me.
"Anyways, the doctor said I could take you back to the farmhouse to rest," Eli said.
"No," I said suddenly, becoming serious.
"What? Why not?" Eli asked.
"I just, I just can't right now. I'll tell you later. Just, we can't spend the night anywhere near the farm," I said, grabbing him by the arm, hoping to sway him.
"Well, I mean, if you want, we can grab your stuff, and my house can literally go anywhere," Eli said in an offhand manner, as if he had expected this.
"Promise?" I asked, trying not to seem too afraid.
Within the hour, we had returned to the farmhouse. The hole I dug was still covered over, and I stared at it as we parked in Eli's black pickup truck.
I ran inside and quickly got changed into my only clean clothes, grabbing everything I had from the farmhouse. I paused at the dinner table, looking down at the photographs of the Harmons and thinking back to that weird moment in the hospital with that odd vision.
The day was getting longer, and I hurried back to Eli, waiting in the pickup truck. I threw my bag in the back and climbed in beside him. He smiled and backtracked down the lane. We turned to the left and went down a side road where we came upon my poor old car. It had crashed directly into a tree, and the whole front part of the car had been destroyed. Fluid leaked all over the road, and I almost shed a tear for my departed friend. We had traveled far together. I grabbed a few things from the car, but something was off about the car. The front door had been knocked off and was discarded on the far side of the road. It looked impossible; the door hadn't even hit the tree.
Eli hooked his truck up to his trailer, and we sped off, leaving the property behind us. We headed into town and found a pullout on the side of the road with a set of bathrooms to camp at for the night. Eli's trailer was messy but cozy. He had laundry strewn over most surfaces, but it didn't smell bad.
The room consisted of a small kitchen with a bed in one corner. There were also a lot of posters and artwork on the walls. I examined one of a pretty girl with long raven-black hair. It was a realist painting, obviously taken from real life.
"Who is this?" I asked as Eli made us some food.
"That is just a friend," Eli said, glancing at the painting he had done.
"Well, she is a pretty friend," I said, enjoying watching the back of his ears turn bright red.
"Dinner's ready," he said, pouring the mixture of food he had made onto a pair of plates.
Eli served me and handed me a can of Coke to drink. I thanked him and sat on his bed. It was the only serviceable piece of furniture in the whole trailer. We both sat in silence for a moment while we ate. I could tell something was bothering Eli as he kept making glances toward me.
"What? What is it, Eli? Just say it," I said between bites.
"Tell me what happened, Polly. Tell me why you were burying the scarecrow, why you were passed out in the road with straw in your hair. Tell me why you were muttering about the Harmons and a scarecrow when I found you," Eli said suddenly, as if he were unloading a machine gun.
I looked Eli square in the face and relented. I told him about the last couple of nights at the farmhouse, about how the scarecrow had been tormenting me every night. About how he had saved me and how last night I had fled through the fields to his trailer and then to my car. I told him about the vision I had about the Harmons in the hospital. By the end of it, I was in tears. I felt so foolish and childish.
Eli took it in stride. He asked a few questions during my retelling, but by the end of it, he was silent. Tears fell down my face and landed in my lap. We had both put our plates on the counter, and Eli hugged me. He put his arms around me, and I nuzzled into his shoulder, feeling comforted again in him at the lowest points of my life.
With a gentle hand, he wiped away my tears, and I smiled, letting a nervous laugh escape my lips. I looked up into his face and felt his stare before I saw it. His pale blue eyes shone with comfort, and then his lips were on mine as he kissed me quickly before pulling away slightly.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. That was insensitive of me. You're sad, and I took advantage of that," Eli said, moving back slightly.
"Shut up," I said, and grabbed his shirt, bringing him back in.

I am a Christian deconstructing my faith (and not on purpose!). I can’t seem to reconcile the problem of evil with the attributes of God. It appears, that with the Biblical/traditional Christian framework, you must sacrifice at least one of the O-O-O-O attributes of God in order for evil to exist. Is this as big an issue for my faith as I think it is? As someone with ASD, I can't just sit with a paradox, I really need things to make at least some sense.
Traditionally, most, if not all, major Christian sects seem to hold to several core ideas about God and his relationship to the universe. These are typically denoted as O-O-O-O, omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent. The sum of these attributes is, in theory, perfection, complete and utter perfection. The concept of perfection is extremely important when arguing for the existence of an ultimate deity as to be anything else would mean there is something better than it, in theory. But what is perfection? When we say God is perfect, what do we mean? Surely, if all things flowed from the nature of perfection, we would expect perfection… wouldn’t we? And since the universe is clearly not perfect by Biblical standards, how does the universe relate to God and vice versa?
This seeming paradox is often nicknamed “the problem of evil”. It is a juvenile concept at first glance. Typically, the astute apologist will fish into his pocket, pull out his trump card, and with a grin, set it down on the table. Free will. Argument over. Of course! God gives us the freedom to make decisions on our own and as a result, some of those decisions result in unfavorable and sometimes downright despicable outcomes. Just think about it! Poverty? Caused by the pride and greed of the wealthy. Wars? Also pride and greed. A child with cancer? Probably caused by the greed and pride of some sleazy company improperly disposing of some type of toxic waste. Rape, murder, adultery, theft? Pride and greed. Thinking you deserve something that you don’t have. In short, selfishness. And surely the desperate atheist will bring up hurricanes, droughts, and earthquakes but those aren’t moral evils, those are physical evils. They hurt, sure. They kill, sure. But they aren’t inherently bad. And who is to question the ways of the Lord? And on all these points I would generally agree. I don’t think that natural disasters disprove the Christian God, and in general, moral evils are the results of human actions. But there is a caveat… Why does free will entail evil?
Think about it for a second. If indeed free will exists, I may have the free will to jump a foot or so in the air, but I don’t have the free will to jump into outer space. There are constraints on our free will. If there are four supermarkets in town, I have the free will to go to whichever one I please. None of those options involve pride or greed but I still, in theory, have free will. So, it is completely possible for a divine being to endow humans with free will while still having constraints in place to prevent them from choosing evil. But he doesn’t… One might say that we have moral free will. But do we even have that? Can I choose to be morally perfect all the time? No. In fact, according to the scriptures, “No one is good. No, not one”. Because of “The Fall”, it is physically impossible for humans to be truly good… Now that doesn’t sound like free will at all. “But it was the result of humanity’s choice to sin”, the apologist might say. So, let’s grant them that luxury and take a look at free will in regard to all of humanity as a single entity.
In the beginning, God created mankind and called it “good”. God warns perfect humanity not to eat of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. However, an evil entity tempts perfect mankind into eating of the tree. Mankind’s sin ushers in evil and free will and curses all future generations to be predisposed to sin as well. I don’t think I need to point out the flaws in this story, but I will just be thorough anyway. God created a perfect world, yet it contained an evil entity that tempted humanity. God created perfected humanity, yet humanity yielded to temptation. The knowledge of good and evil ushers in free will, implying that humanity did not have the free will to eat of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. On top of that, the knowledge of good and evil implies that evil already existed in the “perfect” world. Whether or not you believe the Genesis account to be literal or simply a parable or poetry, the main issue is still present. The world is imperfect but supposedly has a perfect creator.
This contradiction leads us to several internal models for how Christian sects have traditionally thought of God in relation to the problem of evil while still maintaining that God himself is all good. Unfortunately for these sects, this involves neutering at least one of God’s divine attributes. These models are indeed a somewhat reductive oversimplification of the complexity of the varying beliefs between followers of Christianity, but I think they help illustrate this issue. I don’t mean to say that this is what all Christians believe in these different sects either, this is simply my observation of how Calvinist and Arminian circles tend to deal with the problem of evil when I have pressed them on the topic.
The first is, evil is just the absence of God. This logically leads to God not being omnipresent.
The second is, God brought evil into the world on purpose in order to accomplish some grand plan. This logically leads to God not being omnibenevolent (in both the utilitarian and deontological sense).
The third is that God had to bring evil into the world even though he didn’t want to in order to accomplish some grand plan. This logically leads to God not being omnipotent since he relies on something that he would rather not rely on.
The fourth is God was unaware of evil when he created the world. This logically leads to God not being omniscient.
The fifth is that evil is a force external to God’s domain which he could not prevent. This also leads to God not being omnipotent.
The most logical choice seems to be that God is neither good nor bad, just morally neutral but that isn’t Christianity at that point, that sounds like Deism.
Alternatively, saying the creator God is evil and that the redeemer Christ is good is pretty much Gnosticism.
Of course, we could just say “God’s ways are higher than our own” or “as humans there is now way we could comprehend” but we can’t use a belief being as a proof that our religion is supernatural, otherwise, all religions might as well be equally valid no matter how absurd they are.
Additionally, if we go the opposite direction, we could say that evil and free will must exist together because God is a logical god and can’t break his own rules of logic. On first glance, this makes sense, but if we posit that, for example, God can’t make a square circle because he must comply with his own logic, then we make other logical paradoxes such as the Trinity not possible.
The last and probably most popular solution is the relational God model. God wants a dynamic redemptive relationship with his creation and the only way for true love to exist is for there to be the choice to accept or reject God as well as a reason for God to demonstrate his love as well. In this view, the end result of a restored humanity recasts how we view evil in the present. This indeed sounds like the most convincing model but it still has some major issues. If God is all powerful and all knowing, there should be no reason why he couldn’t create a humanity that truly loves him from the start without being simple automatons. But even if that wasn’t the case, the restoration we see in the Bible doesn’t appear to be the result of free will but of an ultimatum. Creation doesn’t have the option to reject God and continue to exist, it is either repent and live or refuse and suffer for eternity and/or be destroyed. It isn’t love at that point; it is coercion. Right?
Am I thinking about this the wrong way?

Hi,
I’m attempting to get a website made for some physical products I sell.
Please appreciate I’ve had an ongoing interest in computing my whole life but am in no terms an expert in anything, especially web development of which I have close to no experience with. I can appreciate my lack of knowledge in this field and appreciate any input. Please assume I know nothing and am asking the entirely wrong questions.
It’s a site I expect will generate a bit of organic traffic as it’s a niche product you wouldn’t necessarily go to Amazon or eBay for and feel like payment processing is required for both convenience and product legitimacy.
From some cursory research I think I’ve decided to settle with a self hosted (Not a physical server I’m running, just managing and in control of) WordPress site that uses WooCommerce and Stripe.
As it’s a niche product I think there’s some chance I can do well with SEO and probably AdWords.
My main questions are about the architectural choices I’m making and whether or not they will turn out to be more trouble than they are worth down the line.
It might be helpful to list some of the assumptions I’ve made:

1. More devs are familiar with WP and it’s a lot quicker to build out sites therefore cheaper compared to websites built from the ground up - Also if I need a different person to change it up in the future, it’ll be easier as it isn’t custom made.
   
2. WooCommerce and Stripe are cheap, well supported, well known and integrate with WP easily.
   
3. Building out a WP site as opposed to paying for something like Shopify yearly, isn’t a false economy, if managed, perpetually.
   

Considering themes and plugins. What I want out of the website is for it to be fast loading, not full of bloat, good for SEO, easy to work on and security conscious where possible. Some plugins I understand are necessary and what makes WordPress a quick and easy tool to work with in the first place but I’d like to keep them to a functional minimum.
Aside question: What are the main vectors for security compromise? I’d have to assume it’s abandoned plugins, plugins turned malicious, databases and insecure forms? In this context is there a distinction between plugins and themes or are they equal problem areas?
// Plugins
I want to keep plugins to a bare minimum as mentioned for performance and security reasons.
Yoast or Rank Math - Both apparently offer the same thing and seem well known within the community. I feel these are tools that I could make use of as I would like to rank on search engines. Is there a big value difference between the plugins themselves and also with the paid versions?
WP Rocket - I don’t understand caching and how it works but this plugin seems popular and apparently helps quite a lot with load times which I can appreciate as a massive value add.
WooCommerce - A necessary condition if I want ecommerce functionality.
PCI compliance - What is this, is it necessary and if so how do it build it in, in a sensible way?
Analytics plugins
See bottom of post - re: Compliance
Any plugins of value that I’ve missed or should I be right with these?
// Themes
Themes aren’t something I know a lot about. I assume they have a huge effect on page load times and also assume that the more well known themes would be easier for a larger designedeveloper base to work on as they are probably already familiar with them.
Themes I’ve heard thrown around a lot are Elementor and Astra. Am I right in seeing Elementor as more of a page builder lots of WordPress devs can use to “Make their own themes” and Astra as just a straight up theme?
If demanding Astra, am I taking a position of restricting the creative liberty of the designer at the ostensibly safer and/or more optimised Astra theme? Or have I got this wrong? Admittedly I have done very little research on WordPress themes and any input here would be much appreciated.
// Backups
UpdraftPlus - Looks to be a plugin that’ll backup and export data out. What are the security considerations here? Any value to the paid version?
Are there other plugins that do a better job, cheaper?
// Security
For my small ecom website, are these security plugins bloat or value?
Sucuri
Wordfence
Are the premium versions worth it? Have I missed any ?
// Legal and compliance
I don’t know much about tracking and marketing but assume I’ll want to pursue social media marketing in the future. Am I right in assuming I should be implementing tracking pixels and analytics from the get go?
As stated, I assume I’ll want to run Facebook tracking pixels. Is there a particular plugin or way I should be implementing them into a WP site?
Analytics. What’s the distinction between Google site kit, Google tag manager, GA4 etc. I presume I’ll need a plugin for this.
Cookies, privacy policies and notices - I don’t want pop ups but I want to be compliant where I need to. If pop ups are completely necessary is there a way to have them only pop for people visiting from areas that require it? Can I segment this to it’s own page?
PCI Compliance
Still not entirely sure what this entails - I understand it pertains to payment processing?
// Hosting
As I understand it these shouldn’t be in the scope of the web dev proposal and I’ll take responsibility for their implementation.
Any recommendations for hosts? Load speed and uptime are critical and pricing comes secondary to me.
The business is located in Australia but I would like decent access from around the globe.
Cloudflare. I’m still not entirely sure what they offer. As I understand, they run a huge part of the internet's infrastructure and offer DNS servers, DDOS protection and have vast CDN’s. Should I be using their services which I think are free? Am I subjecting people using VPN’s to constant captchas? Am I missing what other offerings they have? By virtue of using their DNS servers, am I using their CDN’s? And what value might I realise from them?
In general what conclusions should I walk away with?
WP needs to be constantly maintained but offers more flexibility?
WP if it isn’t maintained will break and have constant security issues?
WP will allow me to realise cheaper and faster website development on account of it’s frameworks, plugins and popularity within the community?
Anything I’ve missed?
Sorry for the massive post but I’m pretty new to this and just trying to cover all the bases.
Appreciate any wisdom and I’m more than willing to buy you coffee if you DM me
Thanks heaps

I'm not sure if I chose the right flair but I apologize if I didn't.
But hey not a Utahn here. But I have some questions. How is the social media ID law working out for you guys? What has been your experiences? Have you guys had any luck with using a VPN to bypass those laws?
I'm worried they're gonna pass a similar law in my state (I don't want to say what state I'm in, for privacy reasons) and while I am an adult and I do have an ID, I'm not sure I'm comfortable providing my ID to a social media giant haha. Plus here's another thing, I'm a disabled/neurodivergent adult and I didn't have an ID until last year because my mom never took me to get one made because she's "over me" and she just thought I never needed one since I never leave the house without her and I don't buy alcohol, etc; and the only reason she took me to get one when she did was because I had an appointment at a hospital I never been to before and they wanted proof of identity. But I'm worried she's gonna be hard-headed and not get it renewed when the time comes which will exclude me from social media if social media ID laws are passed after my ID expires (which won't be anytime soon, by the way, but still).
So I have some questions, which I'm sure will be answered according to Utahn experience and may or may not necessarily reflect what will be the experience of people in my state.
But first of all, do these social media ID laws typically apply to only new accounts, or do they also apply to existing accounts as well?
And does using a VPN actually work? Will the social media site figure out you're using a VPN on their site and if so, will they ban your account for using one? In other words, is using a VPN for social media (such as Facebook and Instagram) allowed according to the sites' terms of service, or no?
I'm aware survey sites like Swagbucks and texting apps like TextNow can and will ban you for using a VPN. But what about social media sites?
And that's another thing, if I was to use a VPN for social media but not for the survey sites or texting apps, will the survey sites and texting apps still ban me for having the VPN on my device or would I just turn the VPN off before opening up those other apps? But I have a super bad memory and worried I would forget to turn the VPN off, though.
Anyway, I just wanna be prepared in case my state passes such laws. I'm also a writer and I post my writing (poetry, etc.) online which I do behind my mom's back of course but it gives me a sense of purpose because she shelters me and doesn't want me doing anything with my life. I don't want to lose the one thing that makes me feel like I'm making something out of myself. I had plans to do more with myself, in addition to my writing, like art and stories.
These laws are meant to protect kids but it's gonna hurt disabled/neurodivergent adults like me who are sheltered and treated like kids.

I am writing here for all the people like myself who have chronic utis and are desperate to try anything to get rid of them. I feel your pain, but it can sometimes cloud your better judgement, as you'll see in my story below(tldr i took high doses of d mannose out of desperation to get rid of my cuti, and i probably permanently damaged my kidney function in the process)
I'm female, mid thirties. Since 2011 I've had dozens of active bladder infections with different bacteria, sometimes e coli, all of the times bacteria that lives normally in the large intestine. The most "useful" thing my first urologist said is that females have a shorter urethra and it's closer to the anus and that i should wipe front to back. Besides stating the obvious, i felt so annoyed and infantilized. I was in my early twenties, but i was treated like a toddler who hasn't been toilet trained. Not to mention the medical misogyny implied in that statement(you are female therefore this your fault)My gp at the time wasn't interested in anything else besides prescribing antibiotics for 7 days and shrugging her shoulders when i came back again with an infection.
I discovered this subreddit around the end of 2023, and started lurking, very interested to find a cause, a cure to this problem that I've had. When i first started having cutis in the early 2010s there were 0 resources online or communities of people who suffered from cuti. Felt very alone with this problem. So when i discovered this community i read a lot about what other people's experiences were, what helped, etc. A lot was mentioned about high doses of d mannose and how it helped some get rid of cuti once and for all. Of course i knew about d mannose but only took it occasionally in very small doses. So i ordered a bag of d mannose and followed a protocol i found, it said something like 3 g evey 3 hours, looking back now this sounds crazy and I'm beating myself up for doing something so stupid. I had no idea this could damage my kidneys. This was happening around the new year. I don't remember anything happening besides my pain during urination subsiding a little so i was pleased with that, so i continued to take a prophylactic dose until i finished the bag of d mannose. I don't remember exactly when, but it was early January when I noticed foamy urine. Searching on the net, i read that could mean protein in urine and kidney problems. At this point I was completely oblivious to the possible connection to my previous intake of d mannose. I bought a urine test strip from the pharmacy. The test seemed ok, no blood or white cells or anything suspicious. Although the square for proteins had a slight greenish tint(yellow means negative, green means positive for proteins, mine was a greenish yellow)
Anyway, I thought that was no big deal, eventually my urine wasn't bubbly anymore and forgot about the whole ordeal. Life went on as usual. Recently I started having some minor issues, developed rosacea and dry eyes the past few months which eventually caused blepharitis (eyelid infection). So i went to the family doctor to get a prescription. Got a blood test as well. Well. My kidneys work as well as an 80 year olds. I'm 35. Creatinine & potassium higher than normal. 62 GFR. I'm perplexed. Is this caused by my cuti? It may as well be. I finally make a connection in my brain. I recently bought another bag of d mannose and i took this time two teaspoons once. Which is the daily reccomended max dose on the package. Next day i have foamy urine again. I begin to suspect that high doses of d mannose are not good for the kidneys. I research the internet again and find out that high doses of d mannose can indeed damage the kidneys. Great. I might have permanently damaged my kidney function. I just want to scream. I did this to myself. I can't 100% be sure that this is what happened. But i highly suspect that it is.
I felt compelled to write this post because I don't want this to happen to anyone else. Because sometimes our pain can impair our judgement. Because it is here I've read about high doses of d mannose. I don't blame anyone except myself. For not doing my due diligence. Be careful everyone, please. Don't be like me. Don't rush into a treatment because you're desperate. I thought i was smart enough to not do something this stupid. But us chronically ill people are susceptible to all kinds of promises of a cure all, sometimes to our own detriment. I just didn't think it would be me. Take care everyone.

I’ve posted about the situation before, so if you want the nitty gritty backstory you can check my profile. I’ve tweaked the ages for anonymity. Please note that the CEO has autism, but that does not excuse his behavior.
Basically, I quit my job for him (a mistake) because he told me he was really interested in me and started getting my schedule to ask me out. But multiple red flags appeared: he wouldn’t be direct, he lived with his ex, he wouldn’t dtr with her, he got very jealous of me. After I asked for clarity and put up boundaries, he would tell me he wasn’t interested. But when I tried to move on, he always came back. He owns the restaurant I used to work at and still frequent, so I see him a lot.
Recently, he started getting really jealous of other guys, even if they are just my friends. He found out I went on a date and got very upset with me. He told me he’s been trying to signify his interest in me but that I’ve been blowing him off and that I’m leading him on. I genuinely did not notice his attempts to flirt because I’ve been having boundaries with him and told him as much. This made him more upset- he told me my boundaries were hurtful and that he was scared I was going to leave him. That me quitting my job was proof I didn’t ever care and that me dating was proof I was lying about my feelings. He stormed out.
I messaged him that though I am still interested, I am confused by his mixed signals and put up boundaries for my mental health. He responded by deleting our interactions together on Facebook (even though they’re all from professional events). I went into the restaurant to talk with him and he made a big show out of flirting with an employee in front of me. She looks almost exactly like me- people call her my doppelgänger- but she is 21 years old. She regularly posts on social media about scamming older men out of their money and has slept with half the staff, even men with girlfriends. Idk if he knows this or cares. He can be a very poor judge of character and social situations. I tried to talk to him but he ignored me.
Yesterday I went in to try and reason with him. He was nervous and flirty. But whenever the other girl was around, he acted like I didn’t exist. At one point I walked in on them in a back room whispering about when they were going to meet up. He also has apparently been very flirty with other staff members since our “fight.”
I know I don’t deserve to be treated this way. I’ve been hurt by him so many times…when I realized he is sleeping with this girl, I wasn’t even angry. I just feel numb. My brain is screaming at me that I’ve been taken for granted and that he’s projected a bunch of stuff on me that I don’t deserve. This is how his last two relationships ended- his gf would push for commitment, he would run, try and make her jealous, then move on and be on and off with them both (sometimes with each other).
I don’t want him to get taken advantage of by this girl. I want him to treat me better. I want none of this to have happened- I love my coworkers and this place dearly. I want to prove to him that I am trustworthy. But he refuses to see it. And he’s treating me badly because of his own issues.
I don’t feel like me anymore. How do I get my power back? How do I let go of wanting to be chosen by a man who has proven he can’t do right by me?

Previous Part
By the time I’d woke up bright and early at 4 A.M., Rocco had amassed an impressive pile of pilfered food in the corner of the tepee. He was just dragging in a turkey leg when I saw him, must’ve been at it all night form the looks of it.
“Rocco, what the hell!”
I shouted, waving my hands at the pile of food he’d brought in.
“I told you to stay out of trouble, lay low. This is… not that!”
I complained, trying to think of how I’d talk my way out of this if anyone asked about the missing food. Rocco simply responded by shrugging, turning around, and diving face first into the mountain of food. I was annoyed at the moment but then I got to thinking. If Rocco stole all that and no one saw him what else could he do without being noticed?
“Hey… hey Rocco no-one saw you stealing all this right?”
I asked, grabbing his tail and dragging him out of the food mountain.
“WHATS DA BIG IDEA!”
He protested, flailing around as I held him in the air by his tail before regaining his composure and adding.
“I’m a profesional, of course I didn’t get seen. Why?! Did someone say something!?
Rocco shot his head from side to side, like he would find someone listening or critiquing his heist. All the movement causing him to spin slowly, still dangling from his tail.
“No, I was just thinking, as long as your out here I could have a job for you.”
I said, setting him down as he answered,
“Whad’ya mean? Spit it out!”
with his classic charm.
“I mean, I want you to sneak into that blonde guy’s tepee. The one with the shitty attitude, Brooke I think his name was. Just see if you can find anything in there.”
I could see Rocco’s interest was peaked but he still had one last all to predictable question.
“What’s in it for me?”
“You keep whatever you find in there no questions asked.”
Before the words even left fully my lips Rocco cried, “DEAL” and sprinted out of the tepee on all fours, leaving me alone.
I wasn’t really sure what the process was now, was Shaoni going to come get us or did she expect us to meet her in the coliseum? I’d never been part of anything like this before, I had no idea what the attendance policy was like. So, lacking anything better to do, I walked down into the mines and waited in the coliseum. It was obvious they were’t really ready for us yet. A few of Shaoni’s people were down there placing cactus looking things into five carved wooden bowls on the floor. Five bowls, five people in these trials so those had to have something to do with us. I looked around the room, trying to find Shaoni. She wasn’t up on her perch like yesterday and she certainly wasn’t part of the small group setting up those bowls. I felt a little different about her now that we’d had a chance to talk. Before I’d been afraid of her, and for good reason, but she seemed to want the opposite of that. Maybe not from me specifically but in general. Although, how could you not be scared of someone who could turn into a giant bird and seemed to consistently be the cause of freak storms. There was a lot of power to her but she didn’t want people to be afraid of it, she wanted respect. I’m sure there was more to her that I hadn’t heard but I certainly was going to hear anything new here.
Seeing as I was still apparently early, I decided not to wear out my welcome in the coliseum. I made my way back out of the mines and settled down back at that canvas tent with the huge table. It was again filled with food that had come from nowhere in particular, probably set up by more of Shaoni’s people. As if to confirm my suspicion, the bandaged man Bianca had stabbed earlier emerged from the camp, walking towards me with a platter of bacon. He starred daggers at me as he placed the platter at the table but didn’t say anything. I was almost tempted to apologize on Bianca’s behalf but I got the sense that wouldn’t be a great idea. Not long after I saw two of the others approaching.
“… Sure, but for some glorified tent it’s still pretty comfortable.”
Brooke said to Katrina who looked thoroughly uninterested in what he had to say.
Brooke wore a… purple suit that made him look like some stereotypical version of a pimp. I couldn’t think of any reason he’d wear that out here, at least no-one would mistake him from anyone else, that ’s for sure. Katrina wore an equally confusing getup, a blue tank top and jeans that made her look kinda like the girl from those tomb raider games. It was about 50 degrees out and probably wasn’t going to get much warmer. If she wanted to freeze, so be it. I gave a slight nod to them as they sat down across from me. Katrina still eyeing Brooke with an expression that begged for him not to open his mouth again.
I couldn’t stop staring at her, no not like that, I was staring at her belt where a holster sat,
“You like it?”
She asked, noticing the staring that I should’ve been trying harder to hide, drawing the handgun from the holster on her hip.
“Beretta M9 semi-automatic pistol, my father’s service pistol actually. Always served me well, so I always keep it on me, well almost always.”
She said with a wink, checking the gun and pulling back its slide. I wasn’t all that familiar with guns but I distinctly saw her flip the safety off. Which had a profound effect on my nerves considering I was staring down its barrel.
“They let you keep that around here? I would’ve thought they take that from you.”
I asked incredulously, still eyeing the gun she had pointed at me.
“I hid it on me yesterday, if they have an issue with it they can try and take it from me. I’m not doing anything like this without some kind of insurance. They get me and Luke or nothing at all.”
She retorted, spinning the gun back into her holster and turning the safety back on with a practiced hand. “Oh that’s cute, she named it” I thought sarcastically as my nerves settled, a loaded gun no longer pointed directly at my face.
“I’m not sure Shaoni would let you leave, even if you wanted to.”
“Oh please! She wouldn’t dare lay a finger on me or she’d have bigger problems coming her way.”
Katrina laughed, throwing her hand back in seemingly genuine amusement. She really didn’t have a care about the Thunderbird? I found that hard to believe.
“So what do you do anyways then? If you’re so sure she wouldn’t touch you.”
I asked incredulously. This seemed to grab her attention as she immediately snapped her head down, locking eyes with me and barking,
“That’s a need to know thing and you don’t.”
Before returning her attention to the food on the table and ignoring me. She was military, that was probably a safe assumption.
Brooke had been listening in to our conversation as he ate. After Katrina snapped at me he finally spoke up.
“So hang on, you came all the way out here with no insurance, no protection? Does anyone even know you’re out here?”
I briefly thought about Rocco, he wasn’t great insurance but he sure came cheap. I hadn’t stopped to think about preparing anything to bring out here with me. I just stupidly assumed everyone was on the same page as me, an unprepared fish out of water.
“No, I guess not.”
I responded, a little shaken at the realization that everyone here was probably more prepared than me.
“You must be stupid or have balls of steel to do something like that.”
Brooke told me, reaching over the table to clap me on the shoulder. I didn’t know if this really was the Brooke Bianca told me about or not but I really did not like this guy. We ate the rest of our breakfast in silence. John and Robert never showed up but I guessed they were down in the mines helping set everything up. I guess being a participate in the trials didn’t exempt Shaoni's followers from having to help get ready for them.
Apparently my guess was right because Robert and John were both already in the coliseum when the three of us arrived. Shaoni was once again up on the balcony and all of the people that had been there earlier were gone. I could clearly see what was in the five bowls now. It was some kind of small cactus thing with a white-pink flower at the top. I’d never seen anything like it before but it did seem a little out of place.
“This is your first trial, the trial of morals. This trial is meant to show us where your morals lie through visions of the past and beyond. Sometimes the plant has a mind of its own though so I don’t expect anyone will have the same experience. Some may not even serve the purpose of the trial but the vision is more important than anything I hoped to learn.”
Shaoni spoke like an announcer from above us.
“There is a plant there for each of you, peyote plants that I had grow for just this occasion. Each of you will eat one of the plants and they will give you visions. You will walk among the spirits and they will show you what you need to see.”
Shaoni finished, like she hadn’t just asked us to take hallucinogenics in an unfamiliar environment surrounded by people we didn’t really trust. I wasn’t a huge fan of being here when I was in control of my faculties but while experiencing a vision, oh no, fat chance. Then again it wasn’t like I had all that much of a choice, I realized just before I opened my mouth to protest.
“Fine but what does that tell you about us? Sure we can go get high for you here but it doesn’t really help anyone.”
Brooke spoke up, taking his usual disrespectful tone with Shaoni.
“I have my ways of knowing, but this experiences is for you. It should tell you more about yourself than it will tell me but I assure you, I will learn something.”
An annoyed but composed Shaoni responded. With that she turned and left us to our task.
“So does anyone want to go first?”
Katrina asked, putting a finger to her nose, inviting anyone else to go first.
“Not so fast sweetcheeks, I don’t trust any of you so how about you take the first crack at it?”
Brooke pointedly suggested. I think Katrina wanted to throw a haymaker at his face right then but I stepped in first.
“What if we all did it at once? Then no one is waiting around and I highly doubt she would let anyone come down here and do anything to us if these trials are that important to her.”
I reasoned, pointing up at the balcony Shaoni had been standing on.
“I still don’t like it but I can live with that, I agree everyone at once like… what’s your name?”
“Keith”
“Everyone at once like Keith said.”
Commanded Katrina, looking everyone in the eye and daring them to challenge her. I didn’t know what she did before coming here but whatever it was gave her a glare even Shaoni would be proud of. No-one hesitated to walk up to their respective bowls and take a bite of the strange pinkish flower at the top of the cactus.
The effects weren’t immediate, John just ate his flower then knelt by his bowl, eyes closed waiting for the vision to come. Robert leaned against the wall looking at his watch, seemingly judging the time before it took effect.
“It’s not my first time with peyote, I’ll probably stay up a little longer than you guys.”
Brooke bragged to the room, taking a seat by his bowl as Katrina and I did the same.
Poetically, Brooke was actually the first of us to go down for the count. I had to resit the urge to stand up and kick the crumpled up purple ball that was formerly Brooke. I don’t think anyone would have stopped me, heck the way Katrina was glaring at him this morning she might’ve joined in. But given what came next it was probably a good idea I didn’t stand. All of a sudden the room began flashing different colors, orange then brown then blue. I felt like I was falling but I hadn’t moved. Eventually a sensation came over me, like I had stood up but I was acutely aware of the fact that my body was really lying on the floor of the coliseum. As my vision cleared I started to recognize things, sights and sounds of a hospital room. It would seem my vision had started by bringing me back to my father.
I inched through the hospital room, sure of what I’d see on the other side of the thin curtain. A heart monitor beeped, just the same as the first and last time I’d been in this room. I saw my father, splayed across the bed no different than the only time I’d been in this room. I’ve always maintained that my family life was generally normal, anything that lay outside of that box of normality could be attributed to my father. He was never what I’d call a good person. Sure, he was never aggressive towards me but it didn't really count for anything. You could tell he never really wanted me. What he did to my mother, that was another story. He came home drunk almost every night and she end up with a black eye or worse at least once a week. Unfortunately for us he had a good job, he paid the bills and my mother and I couldn’t really support ourselves on our own back then. Worse still my mother always told me she put up with it for my sake when I asked her about it. That meant I always felt partially responsible every time I heard a fist meet skin in the room below mine.
My father had ended up in this bed by way of a drunk driving incident. Funnily enough it wasn’t actually his fault. He just so happened to be in the wrong intersection at the wrong time when a box truck plowed right into him. The accident left him with severe brain and spinal damage. It was a sick joke he survived, not a miracle. He’d be on life support from now on. I could’ve made him pay for everything he did with the simple tug of a cable. The only reason I didn’t was that the owner of the company that employed the box truck driver offered to pay all his medical bills. He must not have looked to closely because my fathers insurance was covering all of it. But every week a hefty check came in the mail anyways. As long as he was alive and in that hospital bed, me and my mother could live comfortably. It wasn’t really the right thing to do but I figured it was what my mother deserved after years of putting up with his abuse.
The heart monitor’s shrill beeping focused me back to the situation. I stood over my father’s body, the old urge to just pull the plug washing over me again.
“It would be so easy. Mom’s fine now, you’re managing, why do you still need him?”
I thought to myself, toying with the idea as another voice spoke in my head, Shaoni’s voice.
“He’s earned it, he ruined years of your mother’s life, Its only fair he pay a price for what he did.”
I looked around for the source of her voice but I saw nothing, maybe I was just hearing things, it was just a vision after all right? I looked down to see I was now on the opposite side of the bed, hand reaching toward the cord that powered the life support. Time seemed to move at a crawl, was this really the best option? He was probably solely responsible for the distance between my mother and I, he beat her so many times. Some of the blame for it even sat on my shouldres, would killing him take that away? Could I live with myself if I did this? Knowing I took the easy way out at his expense. No… I couldn’t, it would make me just as bad as him. It just wasn’t right I shouldn’t be the one to decide if he dies. Besides, whatever sliver of sentience remained in him deserved to watch as he shriveled and died in his own way, in some ways that was far worse but he didn’t deserve an easy way out either. The room spun as I made my choice and pulled my hand back from the plug. Sending my vision spiraling as my body collapsed to the cold hospital floor. When I finally fought my way through my spinning vision and back to my feet I was somewhere else. I was in Imalone and if I had to guess it was the night I first saw Shaoni.
I was somewhere in the town square where I got chained into the wooden monstrosity the cultists had made. Shaoni was circling in the sky so I guess I was watching this memory from outside of myself. I was made absolutely sure of this when I saw myself being carried out of the old rotting bar. I watched as the situation played out exactly as I remembered it. Right up until Shaoni landed and came to speak with the one masked cultist. What had been gibberish to me before was suddenly crystal clear english.
“What IS this! You think this is right!? This is what you think I stand for, human sacrifice?!”
Shaoni shouted with such intensity and force I jumped back, looking for a place to take cover.
“Brother Aaron foretold your approach, this outsider wandered in so we thought he would make an excellent gift to you.”
The masked cultist answered, missing the point entirely as Shaoni’s eyes flashed with fury.
“There will be a sacrifice alright, a price must be paid for everything you’ve done here. You have no understanding of what I stand for, You’ve spit in the face of it in fact and for that, each and every one of you will make a sacrifice. Release that poor boy, NOW!”
Shaoni commanded the cultists with a voice so stern I almost ran to try and free the trapped version of myself. None of them budged, they didn’t even seem to realize what kind of danger they were in. Shaoni strode past them over to me where she offered me her all to familiar deal. I was stunned, I never stopped to think that she fully intended to let me go either way. Sure, now I knew that these guys weren’t her usual followers. I still never thought she came here intending to wipe them out. I didn’t really have a chance to dwell on it. Before I knew it Shaoni was transforming again causing a tornado to appear in the middle of town as lightning struck around the area like machine gun fire. As the wall of wind rain and lighting reached me I felt a familiar falling sensation and blacked out again.
When I came to I was back on the cave floor again. I wasn’t sure if I was still in a vision until I felt a sharp kick to my side.
“Oh… that felt… very real. Oh god why?”
I groaned as I looked up at the smirking Katrina.
“He’s awake, that’s everyone then.”
She called out to the rest of the group who were all standing around me. She and the others walked off in the direction of the exit, leaving me there on the floor. With nothing better to do I followed them out. Outside the full moon had shown itself, bathing the camp in shimmering moonlight. Shaoni walked up to greet all of us who’d just collectively decided to just go outside.
“You’ve all made it through it would seem, I hope your experiences weren’t to unpleasant.”
Brooke charged straight past her, I could practically see the steam coming out of his ears. Obviously he’d seen something he didn’t like while he was under the influence of that plant. Katrina seemed completely unaffected, marching by Shaoni filled with the same confidence she had when I first saw her. Robert and John seemed completely unaffected by whatever they had seen but something told me they might be used to it. Me, I wasn’t doing so great. I wasn’t all that pleased about revisiting my father and all those old memories and whatever that flower was called had really done a number on me. I weakly waved to Shaoni as I walked by, just trying to focus on walking straight. She didn’t seem to surprised that none of us wanted to talk to her. She didn’t say anything to us as we all quietly sat and ate. I didn’t like the silence, it felt like everyone was just waiting for something to happen but no-one had any idea what. So I got up and headed back to my tepee, maybe Rocco had turned something up on Brooke.
Rocco was waiting for me atop his mountain of food when I got back.
“I found somethin yous might be interested in”
He said triumphantly, waving around a polaroid photo he had clutched in his paw.
“Give that to me!”
I snapped, ripping it right out of his paw.
“Well someones in a mood.”
“Getting drugged will do that to you.”
I snapped as Rocco stared at me, paws on his hips like he was about to give me attitude.
“I’m sorry My heads still just spinning from… well everything today.”
I sighed, holding my head in one hand as I shook it. Apologizing to a raccoon, my life really was something wasn’t it? I looked down to the picture enemy hand and immediately ice shot through my veins. It was a picture of Bianca taken not too long ago by the looks of it. She was walking back into her house in the photo and it looked like it was taken from a passing car. The photo itself isn’t what really concerned me though, the message written on the back did that. “What you seek can be found in the town of Eagles Peak”, the note read in a singsongy way. I’d never seen Shaoni’s handwriting but given the circumstances I was sure that’s what I was looking at.
I looked up at Rocco who looked more serious than I’d ever seen him.
“Now I don’t know what happened to that girl but somethin’ hurt her before we knew her. If that’s the somethin’ that did, and I’m guessin’ it is lookin’ atcha’. I say we should hurt em’ back.”
Rocco told me with cold steel in his voice. It was weird, hearing him speak without a hint of a joke or over exaggerated movement. We finally found something that the little menace to society could focus on, something… productive.
“My hands are tied, I don’t think anyone here would take kindly to me just attacking someone. Besides, look at him, he’s taller and obviously stringer than me. I’m just a scrawny guy who’s way out of his element, I don’t want a fight. Just… keep an eye on him, maybe we can find something to turn the others against him?”
It wasn’t the answer Rocco was looking for, that’s for sure. He deflated at my words, I’m sure he wanted to go in guns blazing and confront Brooke with what we thought we knew. That wasn’t really going to be an option here, even if it was I’d rather not do that.
“Oh, one more thing, Don’t let Brooke go back into town if he tries to leave, I don’t care how you do it just don’t let him leave.”
I added as an evil grin crossed Rocco’s face.
“Aye’ aye’ captain!”
He cried, raising a paw to his head and saluting me.
Just then I heard someone knocking, no rustling? Screwing around with the front flap to the tepee trying to get my attention. I opened it only to see, “Shaoni?”
“I wanted to ask about the visions today, I’ve talked to everyone else but I couldn’t find you so I guessed you’d be at… is that a raccoon?”
Shaoni stopped, seeing Rocco frozen mid step behind me as he tried and failed to run before she saw him. Realizing he’d been seen Rocco twirled around and in a way only he could announced,
“Whatcha’ think you were looking at Pocahontas?”
“Oh? It talks as well?”
Shaoni said, somewhere between bewildered and bemused as she looked between me and the mouthy Raccoon.
“Course I talk! I thought you woulda’ seen somethin’ like that when you were busy painting with all the colors of the wind!”
Rocco yelled back at her. I wasn’t sure if he was actually offended by Shaoni’s questions, or just deliberately trying to be a nuisance, probably the second thing. I whirled around and glared at Rocco, holding my finger to my mouth in an attempt to shut him up. For once he actually listened.
“I… sorry about him, he’s always like that, part of his charm you know.”
I said with a shrug and a nervous chuckle. Shaoni shook her head dismissively and continued.
“Did you see anything in the cave that you wanted to talk about?”
She asked me, now sounding a little annoyed. I thought back to my father and that hospital room, I wasn’t really ready to talk about that with anyone just yet. But I did have some new questions about how I got into this whole mess in the first place.
“You said back in Imalone you saved me because I realized there was a price for being saved. That wasn’t really it though was it? I saw it again, I could understand you this time. You were going to save me regardless. So why mark me Shaoni? Why did you really bring me here?!”
I said, my voice raising outside of my control as I spoke. I had to finally admit to myself that I was sick and tired of being dragged around in the dark. I was suddenly furious and I didn’t care who it was standing in front of me, I wanted an answer.
“Those men were ruining my name, they thought they were following the Thunderbird but it was just some idea of me they had come up with. They used me to justify their horrid actions and I came to put a stop to it. You were there and when I offered you a deal you didn’t fight it. That’s why I marked you.”
Shaoni spoke quickly, like she wanted to avoid the subject, all but turning around and leaving right then.
“Bullshit! I want an answer Shaoni, a real answer!”
I yelled at her, my fury taking full control of me. Shaoni was silent for a minute, when she finally spoke she looked down, never meeting my eyes as she softly said.
“You remind me of someone from a long time ago. They were blind to the way of things at first, an outsider even. In time though, he became what bound our people together as one family. I don’t have a better answer for you than that. I wasn’t sure I should’ve chosen you at first, I had a feeling that day and I followed it. What you’ve done since you’ve got here, how you’ve handled learning what little you know about the world of the supernatural. Those things are what tell me I made the right choice.”
As she walked away I thought I saw tears reflecting in the moonlight shown on her face. As I settled down I swore I heard soft sobs, echoing across the camp long into the night.

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

Part 1
First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

Hello all!
I'm posting to gauge interest for an app/website idea I have. I want to make a platform where people can easily find FF friends, raiders, RP partners, etc. You would be able to make your own profile, linking whatever you wanted (like logs, carrds, etc). Then you would be able to find people and join global chat groups based on similar interests. There would be more to it..I just need to flesh out the details.
Assuming I could legally do this without Square getting upset, how many of you would be interested in using it? I want to get some feedback before I start putting time into it.

I’m in search of local resources/individuals that can provide training/assistance for getting a WordPress (or SquareSpace, etc) off the ground. I’m confident that once I get something up and running I will be comfortable editing and making adjustments but the distance between 0 and 1 is presenting itself as a vast chasm right now.
Potentially useful information: - I do not want someone to build a site for me; I want to learn the basics of how to develop one myself. - My current knowledge of the architecture is limited… I understand the concepts, etc but I do not possess any technical experience beyond watching some how-to videos on YouTube.
I spoke to someone at Buffalo/Erie County Library re: classes and searched through the post history on Buffalo but couldn’t find anything related save for a recent event that I seem to have just missed by a few weeks. Thank you for any assistance you may be able to provide!

So what would you say to this? 24m, no friends, no job, no life really. I have hobbies I love which you’d think would make me more social. They don’t. Everyone feels like an alien to me.
I cannot even fathom getting a relationship again, my last one was at age 18. I can’t even talk to people and I don’t take care of myself so I don’t expect them to anyway. I just got off anti-depressants. I don’t feel much different than when I was on them. I was depressed and still am. I refuse therapy because as a kid all I ever got was some helper who I had to talk to all the time. Now it’s just given me a complex of never accepting help from anyone. As much as I love pursuing my hobbies, I even tried exercising consistently for a few months. Now I’m back to square one. No one seems to get it honestly, like I really don’t think any of you know what real loneliness looks like. When I hear the words “my bf/gf” or “my friends” from someone who claims to be a loner, I just can’t understand how someone can say that with a straight face. I have battled alcoholism for five years. Not drinking then fucking anything that moved, I didn’t have the self confidence to do that. No I sat and drank alone in my room waiting to die, I stopped that a year and a half ago. Nothing has fucking changed. I’m not even angry about it, at least I’m not hurting my family. But I am an alien, no one gets it probably not even any of you. You’ve all had jobs, been to college and had sex with loads of people. You and I are not the same, I’m not saying it like it’s a bad thing. But how can I relate to people when they haven’t got a clue what it’s like being a mentally ill loner who sits in his house all day everyday? Dk

Hello, Hopefully there is someone who can help me and willing too :)
(Inherently I searched for answers, but so far no success - in case applicable, a link to a relevant post would be great too and apologies for not searching hard enough)
I want a bubble graph from Excel that represents the following table: Banana Apple Pear Orange Grape Pineapple Lemon triangle 0 0 1 0 1 0 3 plus 0 0 0 0 0 0 5 circle 4 0 1 1 0 1 0 moon 1 0 1 2 2 0 0 star 2 2 0 1 1 0 0 square 1 0 0 1 1 1 0 heart 1 1 1 0 0 1 0
The idea is that the values for triangle, plus, circle, moon, start, square and heart to be placed on the X-axis for the respective components of Banana Apple Pear Orange Grape Pineapple Lemon. These "fruits" are arbitrary (so are the symbols, but they can both be replaced / captured by a number) but should be presented at different line of the Y-axis (to illustrate all the values of Banana should be at Y=1) and the size of the bubble is given by the number at the intersection of the symbol and the fruit. So for the X-value of "triangle" in the case of Banana the position (when the axes have an interval of 1 starting at 0 and having "triangle" positioned at X=1 and "heart" at X=7) would be X,Y = 1,1 with a bubble size of 0 (so not presented), whereas for the position of "triangle" in the case of component Lemon this data point would be X,Y = 1,7 with a bubble size of 3. How do I generate this in Excel? What I got so far is this (which was done by manually selecting the respective values for the fruits from a table expressing all the different X,Y,Z values and not like the matrix above). It is time intensive, but the bigger problem is that I can't (manually) adjust the X- and Y-axes values to respectively the symbols and fruits: "The data range is too complex to be displayed."
https://preview.redd.it/z3oireqmas1d1.png?width=1324&format=png&auto=webp&s=302f35ae0c26baf77888ac88a3662af18690a4ed
Did I miss something or is not possible at all to generate in Excel this in my opinion relative simple chart? (what I think is weird for such an extensive tool...) I hope it is the first and I would be very grateful if someone can help me with it. Thanks for considering!
P.S. If I just ask to make a plot from the matrix above. The closest I get is that Excel presents all the values like above assigned to one category or presenting them all and a difference cannot be seen or all the values of the different categories of fruits are placed at Y=0...

TLDR: how do you deal with swimming, wet swimsuits, tight swimwear, etc?
Following four years of repeated physical trauma due to a recurring Bartholin cyst during pregnancy, five subsequent surgeries, and continued, debilitating pain at the scar and in my pelvic floor (it's so bad I can't work and spend a lot of time resting), I finally started an experimental treatment for my scar tissue, Botox injections. The first round went SO well and nearly eliminated my pain. It wore off before expected and I went back to the Derm who is working with my vulvar specialist for more injections. At this appointment she diagnosed me with likely Lichen Sclerosus. She suspects that the trauma of my cyst/treatments precipitated it and that the two issues are "feeding" one another so to speak. So as the pain in the scar was treated, the more diffuse pain from LS through my vulva/pelvic floor settled down and when the Botox wore off the LS pain flared in tandem with the scar pain. A biopsy was not done or scheduled, because no one wants to cause additional trauma to my vulva (I can't overstate how much trauma a 1 square inch area of my vulva has undergone in the last four years). So I am treating it with clob as directed with the hopes to back into a diagnosis by seeing improvement over the next 6 weeks.
All that being said, I have some questions about LIVING with lichen sclerosus. My life has been interrupted and made SO much smaller by the site specific pain at my scar. I really struggle mentally with all the physical adjustments and changes required. And now the directions for treating and dealing with LS seem like they will cause my life to shrink even more. The thing that is causing me the most distress at the moment is swimming.
I love swimming. I love my swimsuits. All I want is a vacation in Mexico and to have a swimsuit on for hours at a time, hopping in the ocean or pool, drying out in the sun afterwards, on repeat for days at a time. I know that hanging out in wet swimwear is not a great idea, really for anyone with vulva. But I always thought of it as like have your swimming/boating/laying out fun and then when you get home, take your suit off, shower and get some dry underwear or loose shorts on. Will that still be enough? Do I need to get out of wet swimwear immediately after exiting the water? And will the snugness of a standard swimsuit irritate me further? What does everyone wear to swim in? Is there some super fast-drying brand that would be helpful or a specific sort of cut/bottom that is most accommodating? If there's no flare or symptoms can I just act as I would have before all of these vulvar issues? Any personal experiences and tips for success in this area would be so appreciated!
In the grand scheme of things, I know this question may seem superficial, but with all the changes I've had to make to accommodate my injuries, healing, and changed anatomy, it feels so devastating that it might be entirely inadvisable for me to just go float in a pool this summer (or ever again). And deeply ironic since swimming and water is one of the things that relaxes me the most and is SO good for my mental and physical health.

See the thing about stacy is she refuses to admit that there are resources so I complied a list of where to send candyman shelters that are open
https://www.revivecenter.org has beds open but candy man cant afford to get there okay maybe dont buy him a ipad buy him a bus pass cost 10 dollars for a complete 1 day pass so he can get there
Heres more resources https://www.chicago.gov/city/en/depts/fss/provdrs/emerg.html but she will say i tried he wont go okay then stop showering him with gifts and follow what preach behind close doors consequences if you truly believe in rock bottom stop helping him watch how fast things change
There a ton of free rehabs free programs free aa free na he has a ipad he can go to online meetings that our free for mental health there are so much stuff he could be doing but stacy says he refuses to maybe if he got pushed harder no more gifts no more food no more anything he would choose to get help when you live in luxury on street why go anywhere you get everything he needs trips to the hotel restaurants people houses to watch football games for a mentally ill person this ain’t rock bottom this moving up in the world he got so many people showering him with gifts every holiday why leave why take the help at this point stacy needs to step away so maybe he can one day say okay ill go cause there plenty places he can go it ain’t about removing him from the park but lets get him help and moved on the state offers section 8 and vouchers it would cost him 100 bucks to live in a section maybe 300 and stacy gets plenty of stars on facebook to be able afford to help him live in a section 8 i can keep going i dont get why she preaches consequences and rock bottom but refuses to give candy man consequences or a rock-bottom he’s living high people saw him the other day with fruit water yeast ice stuff to make jail house hooch like is this needed in a park full of kids in stacy eyes yes if you want change sign the petition https://chng.it/7yZFFPKnSd i think the change needs to happen so we can get our park back

I had been seeing this man for about 1 1/2 years, every day or every other day. We didnt make it public because I was unsure how my parents would feel (they kinda racist.) Then he revealed that he has a child to me. He has no social media but snapchat so I would’ve never found it. He said he thought I would judge him so he didn’t say it blah blah blah. I didn’t really care , I was happy for him (she looked like 2-3.) But now my parents really wouldn’t like it since i’m 19 and he’s 25 with a kid. Despite that I was still in love with him so I would be with him anyway. So over the course of the following 6 months leading to the current time, I asked many questions about BM. Is she still in the picture, does he still see her, etc. He insisted he only saw her to pick up his child at times or do family stuff. That’s pretty reasonable I can respect it. He made many many excuses like we can’t make it public bc she may be mad and force child support or not allow me into the family etc. Well yesterday, I was checking this guys sister FB and found BM. Lo and behold there is tons of pics of her and “my man” together (I’ve been talking about him like he’s my man for 2 years and he is friends with all my friends.) I am physically ill to my stomach looking at the pics finding out they have been together the entire time. Do I tell her? I am afraid he will seek revenge on me. I am worried this can cause more turmoil in our already crazy lives. I am genuinely afraid of what he’ll try to do to me if I tell her. I told him that I found out and to go F himself and cut contact. I feel like such a bad person for doing this to his FIANCE (she had a ring on all the pics), she will be really angry at me. Also I discovered he started seeing me right BEFORE he had the baby shes 2. We literally would play games on each others phones or hed be driving and say text this person for me. I never saw her there. He spent 2 Christmas, Valentines, Easter, my bday, etc with me. My brain can’t comprehend how this is possible. Am I missing something? Maybe they’re on and off or just post on facebook to make it look stable when they’re not really together? He would go 3 months in a row seeing me EVERY DAY at times.

I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/themachucajr posting in Marriage
Ongoing as per OOP
1 updates - Long
Original - 7th May 2024
Update - 15th May 2024
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My wife friend-zoned me and wants a platonic “companionship”
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My wife (35f) and I (35m) have been married for 15 years and we've been together for 20 years. We have two kids (12,14) we absolutely adore and work tirelessly to provide the best possible life for them. For the past 3 years, things have been somewhat bumpy. I understand that our kids are at an age where they require a ton of our attention and resources with school, band, club sports, and other extracurriculars and I'm aware of the physical and emotional toll that can have on marriages.
However, for these past 3 years, my wife and I have had very little intimacy and very little sex and we've been trying very hard to work on that aspect of our relationship. This past year has been the most difficult and by far the darkest year in our marriage. We didn’t talk very much, we essentially became roommates coparenting our kids under the same roof. It was very depressing and very demoralizing. It was to the point where we began contemplating divorce and it became very dark and gloomy in the household because of that.
We began seeking help with both individualized therapy and couples therapy and it seems to have helped some. Little by little we started to get along and started to have deeper conversations about what our marriage looks like and what we would love for it to look like. This is where it gets tough. As time passed, my wife started to tell me she no longer was "in love with me" and that she only saw me as a "best friend." That she only loved me in a very platonic way, and this was one of the main reasons she didn’t have any desire for intimacy and let alone sex.
This was very shocking to me and quite frankly, I was devastated. I because angry and depressed and I couldn't fathom the thought that I was no longer wanted or desired by the person I felt completely in love with. Things began to deteriorate again and not long after, we were back to square one. I sat down with her one afternoon and had a heart to heart and began to ask questions about where the root of this problem lies, and her answer was "I don't know" and that "I have built up resentment towards you but I don't know where it stems from." As you can imagine, this provides very little to no insight into how to approach this.
I'm puzzled, I'm frustrated and I do not know what to do at this point. Currently, we've arrived at a place where she says that she has no sex drive and no desire for intimacy or connection. She says that all she wants is simply "companionship" which basically means our coparenting roommate dynamic. I asked her what I could possibly do or what is it about me that is so unattractive or undesirable and she her response is always "I don't know." She stated that she does "love" me but its not the same. That she has been feeling disconnected for years and that our marriage just takes up too much work. Her focus is only the children for now and that my coparenting contributions are "meaningful" to her in our home.
I'm at a loss and I'm mainly venting about my frustration. It's tough to realize that the person you love has no feelings for you. I feel like at this point I'm only here to contribute financially and as a parent. I feel like what she means with "companionship" is that she's comfortable with the convenience of having a good father for our kids and my financial contribution to the household.
In regard to intimacy and/or sex, she basically told me that its not something she’s interested in or wants at this time. She mentioned that the only way to get to a point for any of that is to be intoxicated which o believe is incredibly awful and very wrong. I told her I do not think forcing herself to have sex or be intimate by drinking or smoking is good and I declined to be a part of that which to my surprise, it upset her and made her more distant.
We're both extremely honest and transparent. We've never cheated on each other and we are always free to look through each others phones, emails, socials, etc. and we hardly ever do. I asked her if there was someone else and she declined. Honestly, I believe her. We then peacefully went through each other’s things and as expected, it was clean. We've always been very forward, even with the hard topics so I don't smell nor feel any foul play or infidelity.
Am I wrong for declining to only be intimate or have sex when she’s intoxicated? (I'm firm on my stance of not partaking in this "only when I'm high or drunk" sex because it doesn’t sit well with me.) I do not know how to help our situation and I'm starting to become a bit anxious and desperate. We're both fairly young and healthy individuals and good looking. We both have good standing careers and are good parents. I'm just not sure how our lives could have driven us to this point. I'd love some outside perspective on this matter and some insight on how to address something like this. It feels so awful to be unwanted and undesired by my own spouse. I hate it.
tl;dr: My wife of 15+ years is no longer in love with me and doesn’t know way and now says she can only have sex while intoxicated or I need to settle for a platonic sexless marriage and she doesn’t know why that is but it is what it is and I'm in need of insight or advice.
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Comments
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Warthog__
From your comment history it looks like you are Swingers? If so, I would think that would be relevant information to consider.

OOP: We did some swinging in the past. That was fun for some time. We mutually decided to stop doing it and we have established it’s not the case. When we were swinging however, our marriage seemed to be in a good place. This IS something we did disclose with our couple therapist and made sure to include it to make sure we’re not neglecting an obvious potential issue.
I will say, I did ask my wife if what she experienced during swinging is something that is affecting her view on our relationship and she said it wasn’t. Our swinging experience was always together and it was very sex driven. Nothing really emotional or “poly”. Truth is, I have to believe her at her word. I have no reason to distrust her. To date, she’s always been very forward and never afraid of dealing things head on. No matter how painful.

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failedopportunities
It’s an obvious potential issue bro… wether it be she’s enjoying herself a side piece and wants nothing to do with you in that manner anymore. Or, she just went along with you on the swinging and never wanted to do it in the first place. Hence brings resentment. Regardless, should have been included in the initial post.

OOP: Swinging was her idea. Not mine. But I suppose I should have included it but I honestly believe her on it not being an issue. I don’t have any reason to distrust her. Maybe it’s something she has to accept with her therapist or our couples therapist. Can’t really approach that with a solution if she doesn’t think it was a problem. IDK

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BigIronBruce

She says that all she wants is simply "companionship" which basically means our coparenting roommate dynamic.

That's only a marriage if you both agree it is. You're hoping she's going to wake up one day and feel different but she's basically said that's not going to happen and doesn't want to figure out why she feels that way. It seems like you tried several different ways to get to the bottom of it and she's either deflected or is being honest that she's not in love with you.

Am I wrong for declining to only be intimate or have sex when she’s intoxicated?

I wouldn't do this, either, if that makes you feel better.
Will she be your best friend if you live elsewhere and have a relationship with somebody in love you. Probably not. Which makes the whole "best friend" speech feel like self-deception on her part.
I won't lie, if it were me, I'd get a divorce. She doesn't seem willing to do the work to fix the marriage and you can't fix it alone. She might promise to fix it or beg you not to but you need to follow your gut as to whether she actually can or will fix it. She's serious that she wants you to stick around but not necessarily as her husband.
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OOP: A very hard truth to accept here. Thank you

Interesting-Tip-4850

"I’m ensure I do everything possible to mend our marriage to ensure my own peace of mind and excite knowing I did everything I could."

you may still concider 180 method, to protect yourself and perhaps in the same time the reality that the ship is leaving may start to change your wifes perspective. If that doesnt what else would.

OOP: Can you elaborate on the “180 Method”?

Interesting-Tip-4850
Basically withold from any unnecesary interactions and affection. This is from an infidelity forum, but principles are the same https://www.survivinginfidelity.com/documents/library/articles/discovery/the-simplified-180/

OOP: I bookmarked this. I’m heavily considering this.

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Update - 8 days later
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I wanted to give you guys an update of how the therapy session with my wife went this week. Not sure if this is helpful or not but I took many of the responses/comments/suggestions from my initial post and put together some things I wanted to discuss with our couples therapist to help us navigate some of the core issues that may be affecting this situation.
One of the main things that is the "buzz word" of this has been the term "resentment" and it has been really eating me up inside knowing my wife keeps telling me she doesn't know why she's resentful or doesn't know why this is affecting her emotionally/mentally. I brought this up with our therapist once again and resurfaced the conversation about being married for so long (15yrs) and being together since we ere 14yrs old. Our long history of growing up and how having children when she was 19yrs old (me 20) significantly changed the trajectory of our lives.
We experience severe poverty and many hardships in the process and we essentially had zero social life for the past 10 years because we were so busy raising babies (2 kids now ages 12 &14). She followed up with tons of questions directly mostly at my wife about her feelings towards this and 90% of the responses were very "our kids" focused. It definitely felt like she was afraid of saying "yes it sucked" because she would feel guilt or shame because it would imply she regrets the kids.
I mentioned this in the session and the therapist encouraged her to look at this outside of the lens of being a mother and to try to view it a bit more selfishly and individually and it was very eye opening. My wife mentioned that she was very frustrated with the fact that we did miss out on many things in life. She also was very clear in saying "I do not think I missed out on other partners or dating or partying but I certainly lost all my friends." This was huge because one of the big pieces that has caused a strain in our lives is how silo'd and isolated we've been (again busy raising kids). I followed up by reminding her that it's important to have good friends and to make time for herself and her friendships.
For the past 3+ years, we've had multiple conversations about friends and how it is important to have them in life. Specially when you have similar peers that can help in many areas of life that perhaps we have no experience navigating and even simply for enjoyment. It has always been something my wife avoids, even though she's always been someone who needs that external stimuli. The main reason for her not investing in friends or even herself has always been "the kids." Like I mentioned earlier in this post, 90% of the answers have to relate to "the kids" to some degree.
At this point in our session I started to feel like there was a common denominator (the kids) in most of the frustrations and problems she was experiencing. So I simply asked her "Do you think you may be upset at me because I'm responsible for these kids in the sense that I got you pregnant so young?" I wasn't ready but she said that she was upset at me for that. She also followed up with the fact that she knows that's unreasonable because it "takes 2 to tango." I did feel like it was progress because it kind of gave us something to work on and help alleviate some of these "burdens" so we agreed to invest more time in nurturing good friendships both together and individually.
Towards the end of the session, we began to discuss what actionable items we would take from this session. At this point, it was still all very ambiguous and blurry as to what the outcomes were. I was very direct and very forward in asking my wife what her plan is moving forward. (NOTE: I had decided prior to the session that should my wife say the same thing about being a coparenting roommate that I would take the 180 approach and essentially do me) She started basically saying the same thing, that she doesn't have any desire to be intimate or sexual with me as of now and that she loves me immensely and she feels bad for not being there for me (as mentioned in my first post).
I also brought up the brief swinging that happened, to which for the 50th time said it wasn't a problem. I agree with her on this. This was something that was a "mechanical" approach for a solution to a problem that was very much in existent when we tried this. We (both) really have no issue to this. We know it happened, we tried it and mutually stopped and turned the page.
I also brought up other life events that may cause resentment and really we ended up not getting anywhere else as far as the root for resentment which was discouraging.
I then basically expressed to my wife that I will not be ok with that arrangement. I told her that I've really done everything I can and that this issue really has reached a point where it has nothing to do with me or require me to do anything that I'm currently not doing. I was very direct and saying that I will not be accepting this dynamic and that I need to be with someone who is actively involved in our marriage, works towards resolutions and is very much interested in maintaining an active intimacy and sexual relationship.
I expressed how I am not going to be a "convenience" and that there was more to life than being roommates and coparents. I made sure she knows I love her dearly and that I do want this to work for the better. I also told her that I'm fully committed to this marriage so long as she is as well and that is she wasn't, its ok, however I will not be a part of something where these efforts are not reciprocated. I told her I have no plans of leaving, and I do not want a divorce, however, I made it clear that if this dynamic continues that divorce will be the only outcome.
Of course tears were involved and it was a very bleak and sad ending to the session. Still nothing was said and I walked out very discouraged and very determined to start working on the 180 as soon as we left the room. It's painful and very difficult because much of the 180 requires you to be very short and cold and transactional. The saddest part is realizing, this dynamic already is very cold and transactional.
Here is where it gets VERY interesting. I started working on implementing many of the 180 recommendations that same day. I mentioned to my wife that, "hey, things are going to be a bit different moving forward. I'm going to honor her roommate/coparent dynamic without reproach and that it should be no mistake that I am not happy here and I am never going to be ok with it but I am done working on it if she wasn't going to work on it."
She agreed and went to bed. I started to build distance and started to basically focus on myself. Very short and transactional. She asked for help on some of her personal things to which I declined and it really shocked her. She was upset saying I was being petulant. I explained to her that, she is now fully in charge of her own life and her own issues.
We didn't talk all day and we only spoke when necessary. Few days I keep this going and she's very visibly upset and stressed. I typically react to that with gestures of help or nurturing but I didn't this time. That night she was crying telling me she's stressed and she things something is wrong with me because I'm "indifferent." I simply listened, then I told her that this is the dynamic she proposed and that I'm simply (much like her) taking care of myself and focusing on myself.
I'm not going to lie, it has been VERY hard to be cold and distant because as I mentioned before, I love her and I wish I could hold her and love on her. However, I know this is somewhat manipulative in a way just to get her way and still keep me in the friendzone. So I've been staying the course.
We're now going on a week of this 180 and let just say, there has been MANY changes on her side. I think she is starting to realize there is more to me than just "friends and coparenting." I sent her a text a few days ago essentially itemizing bills and separating the financial responsibilities 50/50 and SHE LOST HER SHIT. She basically told me it was "out of left field" to which I responded "hey, friends go in 50/50 and as your friend I expect nothing less."
This was very eye opening because it gave me a glimpse of I'm really taken for granted and how her level of comfort and convenience at my expense is really overlooked. I pushed through anyways and basically told her that this is the new dynamic she asked for and that its still a "bargain" because she would have to be 100% if she was on her own.
I'll wrap up with this. While the 180 has been working in many different areas, I am still very much sad about the overall situation. There have been MANY eye opening statements being said and realization that have not been pleasant to encounter. It has also sparked new energy and new efforts on her side as well. She's definitely seeking to talk to me more often and while its hard to turn down, I hope if things improve, this continues to happen.
I've also noticed that she's making more time for herself aside from being a mom which is HUGE because she pretty much neglected herself for years. I'm very pleased seeing her be more herself. My hope is that as we work on ourselves, the marriage improves. There really is no telling at this point where this will go. We are very much cordial and amicable even to this day and that's a very good sign.
Boundaries are set and expectations are very clear and I feel that no matter the outcome, I will be at peace with everything that has been done. We're still going to continue the couples therapist until we either rekindle our marriage or end up in divorce. I feel like having this nonbiased third party really helps as a witness and as a guide through this. No matter what I will always love my wife, however, I will not participate in a sexless, intimacy less marriage because we both deserve better.
Thank you all for all the kind words and recommendations and feedback. This will be my last post on this topic and I wish you all the best.
TL;DR: My wife friend-zoned me wants to just coparent at my expense but I started the 180 method to try and find a solution because she doesn't want to work on us which seems to be working on getting her out of her rut and helping me discover more about how she feels. Also, therapy is paramount and highly recommend to all couples.
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Comments
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Complete-Old-1960
Bottom line and not to be brutal, but there is one thing you don't have infinite amount of, is TIME. This has to be resolved in a timely manner. It takes 2 to be in love and to be loved, and u only have ½ of the equation. You need to put a time limit on you being the good guy and think of you and your future. Look hope it works out for you, but listening to what you are going through and what you could be in for you can still be a good father but also be a great husband to another wife if you find that special person again.

OOP: Definitely. I think this “soft ultimatum” (180 method) has been very eye opening. I’m definitely hoping for a rekindling of our marriage but I’m also bracing for divorce. I agree on a timeline and I’ve decided on a timeline for myself privately. I don’t want to give her a timeline because I want to reduce the pressure, however, after 1-2 yrs of things don’t improve, it won’t be shocking or a surprise if we split. I think 1-2yrs is more than reasonable.

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shes_a_killer
I have to agree with this, simply because at some point, the person who has gone 180 and is waiting for the other person to decide will begin to wonder, "Wow, they're really taking their time coming around to me...did they love me at all? If they ever appreciated and cared for me, why would they keep me waiting and neglecting me for so long?" Except, in my case, it had more to do with the other person being stubborn and unable to admit their faults.

OOP: I understand what you mean. I don’t think I’ll ever doubt she loved me at all. I’m certain she did and I’m certain she still does. I know it sounds crazy and I’m not at all infatuated or blinded by love. Love is far more than the intimacy and sex we’re lacking.

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RandyPan_theGoatBoy
I think it’s interesting that in the comments of your original post you said you didn’t think she was taking you for granted but you came to realize she absolutely was. Can you give some more details on what the 180 method is?

OOP: Yeah, I definitely felt this way. But with this 180 method it’s happening right in front of my eyes. Actual actions and reactions taking place that clearly demonstrate that she is taking me for granted. She actually see this as well. It’s evident she’s thinking about this heavily based on her demeanor and her behavior.
Here’s what I used as a guide:
https://beingabeautifulmess.wordpress.com/the-180/
https://www.survivinginfidelity.com/documents/library/articles/discovery/the-simplified-180/

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I am not the OOP. Please do not harass the OOP.
Please remember the No Brigading Rule and to be civil in the comments

Hi all,
This is actually my first post on here. A little about myself I’m the eldest daughter (23yrs) in a brown household (love that for myself). I swear if I could be born again I’d love to be the youngest of the family (even thought I guess if someone’s narcissistic it doesn’t truly matter whether you’re the eldest or youngest)
Anyway, I’m currently in a country and I’m moving to the states and my mum and lil brother are staying there with my dad atm. My sister (18yrs) is busy with the most important exams of her high school(she’s in her last year) and me and my brother(he’s 22) just finished our university exams so we’re free! It’s just us 3 in this country rn and our flight back is in 30 days and we both need to sell all the extra stuff in the house that didn’t come with our rented house. We also need to pack all our clothes etc and clean this house.
So far I’m the only one who’s been working on selling stuff on Facebook marketplace and cleaning out cabinets in the kitchen and the garage etc. my brother spends the entire day on his computer playing games or watching anime. I don’t hate my brother but sometimes I get really close to it. If I was his mom I swear he would’ve long been disowned. He’s the most unclean person alive (he never cleans his own bathroom, he leaves his dishes in his room for me to come collect and clean, never picks up his own dirty clothes I have to do his laundry, I even had to clean his shoes after he went out yesterday simply because i couldn’t stand how dirty they were) I like to stay clean and keep the house clean too. The only reason he even leaves his room is to eat (Ofcourse I’m the one cooking)
The issue is my parents have both simply given up on him at this point which he uses to his advantage even more. He’s living his best life, goes out with his friends and doesn’t lift a finger in the house.
Despite all this my mum still calls me and gets mad at me for doing things too slowly and not putting everything up on Facebook marketplace quickly enough?! I’ve already sold two items on there but it takes a while to make sure the person coming to our house isn’t a creep. Yet, every time she calls all she talks about is how I’m not taking things seriously, how I’m so lazy, how I’ll pay for the flight tickets if I don’t sell everything beforehand. We needed to renew a card for travelling and there’s a long wait time on it (3 months) which I still applied for despite the wait but yesterday I found out that I could request it earlier if it’s an emergency with the flight details. However rather than being happy or thanking me for finding this out my mum simply gave out since I should’ve found this earlier and it’s my fault if we don’t get an appointment quickly enough.
My friends are all travelling and doing their own things in life and since this week is the last week they’re free they asked me to hang out but I can’t even tell my mom that “hey can I pls hang out with them one last time” because I just know she’ll flip. I’m so stressed about this whole situation and I literally feel so numb and sad all the time. I’m not a social person either but I wanna go out just to change my environment. I know so many people have it worse but ah I wish i could catch a break.
Even when I finally get to the states I know my parents are expecting me to work as soon as I get there. I just want a week off. Just to live my own life in peace and not stress about anything. What would you do if u were in my position?