I live in the UK and my partner and I had a holiday booked for yesterday which we were really looking forward to. Last week I had an uncomfortable feeling in my right side.
I had a doctors appointment for something else anyway so I mentioned this and they said it is likely to be nothing and to let them know if it gets any worse.
For a day or two it was still there but quite mild and not worse than before. It was more of a discomfort. I phoned 111 just to get a second opinion and they agreed with the doctor.
They just said to take paracetamol and if it gets worse to get it checked. The day before our flight it got worse and I was in horrible pain. I was advised to go to A&E as it was possible appendicitis.
I went to A&E and it was a 5 hour wait which meant I was in awful pain for the full thing and also we missed our flight since it was an early flight and we were supposed to be staying over at an airport hotel.
When I saw a doctor they did an ultrasound and felt my stomach and side. They said it wasn't appendicitis but they weren't sure what it was.
They prescribed me some painkillers and sent me home. One of the first comments my girlfriend made was "well there's the holiday ruined" and she mentioned that we'd lost our money.
I pointed out I could hardly have just ignored the fact I was in pain and she just said I can't exactly expect her to be fine with losing money and missing out on the trip.
I told her the least she could do was show some compassion and she just said that we still could have went since the doctors didn't do anything. I just repeated she could at least act like she cares and that I could hardly help being ill.
She just said I was wrong for expecting her to just be fine with losing the money and missing out and that I should be reimbursing her but I just told her I’m not going to pay her just because I had to go to A&E.
AITA for causing my girlfriend and I to miss our holiday and refusing to reimburse her?

I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter was brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.

This story is about a boy who have a trauma from his past ex-girlfriend. Their relationship did not last long but he always experience abuse from his ex like hitting him for no reason. They always argue because of her, always coming home from work drunk, gaslighting him for everything she's doing. It's a very toxic relationship. At first it's not like this but as soon as she lost interest, everything changed. One time, the boy caught her cheating, having an affair with her co-worker, but he just let it slide because the boy loved her ex-girlfriend so much, that even after what he see, he still love her. Good thing though his ex-girlfriend finally decided to break up with him day after that, and of course, the boy let him go. The boy still love her and it's hard for him to move on.
A few months later, he met this new girl on his work named Kayla. Kayla is a pretty girl with a good personality. The boy laid eye on her, can't take his eyes off her for the whole day. Just as he's about to leave his work, Kayla noticed him and approached the boy. "Hey what's your name?" Kayla asked. "My name is Carl" the boy replied. "Carl, that's a cute name, nice meeting you, my name is Karla by the way" said Karla "It's nice meeting you too Karla" said the boy. As they walk nonchalantly, Karla suddenly asked out of the blue, "So, are you doing fine? I heard that your girlfriend just broke up with you a few months ago" Carl replied, "How did you know?" Then Karla said "Well, me and Hannah were talking about you earlier, she told me that you have been going through a lot lately, so i wonder if I can do anything to help? I don't want to see my co-worker being upset" Carl answered, "Why do you even care? I'm just a nobody, my life means nothing.. I don't feel like i deserve to be loved.." Karla then replied "I know life is hard, and it's not true that your life means nothing, you are borned in this world for a reason. And you deserve to be loved, you're a handsome boy, smart and kind, you deserve to be love, you're not just a nobody, you're somebody." Carl then felt a spark in his heart after what Karla said to him. Carl felt something in his face, "am i crying?" He then covered his face, then Karla noticed, "Hey are you crying? Did i say something wrong? It's okay, you can cry, i'm sorry for making you cry" Carl then answered, "I'm fine, thank you Karla." Carl then hugged Karla.
For weeks Carl and Karla have been going out, talking, vibing and even dating. One night after work, Karla asked Carl, "hey so uhm.. I've been wanting to ask you recently" Carl replied "what is it?" "Will you be my boyfriend?" Karla asked, Carl then felt a hesitate after he heard the question, "Is that a no?" Karla asked "Yes, i can be your boyfriend" said Carl. Then Karla hugged him, "I love you Carl" Carl then replied, "I love you too Carla"
After a few days Carl is being anxious lately, Karla noticed and asked Carl, "Darling are you alright? You don't look good for the past few days, i'm getting worried." Carl then replied, "It's just that.." Karla asked "Just what darling? Please say it, i will listen i promise." Carl answered, "It's just that i'm afraid.." Karla replied, "Don't be afraid darling, i will protect you no matter what. If it's about the trauma you felt from your ex-girlfriend, i promise i won't do anything cruel to you, i love you darling, please don't be afraid." Carl then cried and Karla hugged him.
After a few months, their relationship is going pretty well. Carl and Karla love each other so much, they can't be separated no matter what happens, they're always together through thick and thin. But would their relationship last long?
One day after work, Karla is not feeling good. "Darling maybe you should get some rest, you don't look good. While you rest, how about i prepare some food how's that sound?" Said Carl. "Thank you darling, you're so sweet" Karla replied. Then suddenly while Karla is walking to her room, she fainted. "Darling are you alright?" Carl asked. Karla is not waking up, and Carl is worried. Carl picked her up and rushed to his car to get Karla to the Hospital. Luckily Karla made it. In the hospital, Carl asked the doctor if Karla is alright, the Doctor said, "Mr.Carl, i'm sorry to tell you this but.. She has cancer, Stage 3." Carl then suddenly got a heavy heart, shaking and couldn't even speak properly, the doctor then asked Carl to have some rest. Carl is angry and depressed about what he heard.
A month later... Karla is fighting her cancer, Carl supporting Karla by staying with her 24/7. Karla then whispered to Carl "Till death do us part .." Carl doesn't know that that will be her last word to him.. After a week, Karla didn't make it. She died of Cancer. Carl then felt sadness once again.
A day later after Karla's burial, Carl then rush home, tied a rope on the ceiling and said "Till death do us part" softly... And then he hung his self.
"Till death do us part" was their last word. The end.

I'm a Sag, and Aquas are pretty much more relatable than other Sags to me. To be fair, I don't really know any other Sags, but can absolutely relate to the traits and to what other Sags write on here more than I relate to any other sign - except Aquarius.... We're considered one of the most harmonious pairings, cause there's so much mutual understanding... And I feel that. Aquas are unusually fiery for an air sign, and Sags are unusually airy for a fire sign.
The only mentionable differences I've found between Sags and Aquas, comparing me and my Sag traits to my Aquarius friends:

• We both care a lot for other people, both strangers and close ones, and are humanitarian. But Sags have a tendency of being too naive and give next to all people the benefit of a doubt, while Aquas are more like "yeah, that person's being shitty on purpose and I'm not trusting that. Still wish them the best tho".
  
• We both struggle with being vulnerable in front of others, but Sags are more communicative when it comes to problem solving in relationships. We wont avoid tackling the tougher topics if we love someone.
  
• We both have an "idgaf"-attitude, but Sags have more people pleasing tendencies.
  
• We both have a bad habit of repressing our emotions, but once they inevitably resurface, Aquas have an easier time pushing them down again.
  
• Aquas are fixed signs and less indecisive when it comes to their foundational beliefs.
  
• Aquas tend to overthink things, especially their own feelings and actions, and while I do to (I blame it on other placements), it's not a Sag thing.
  
• We're both aloof and have our heads in the clouds, but Aquas are more aware of the things outside their head despite this.
  
• We both avoid being surrounded by drama and negativity, but Sags are more likely to enter a debate despite risk of conflict, cause we struggle with resisting the instinct to do so... And cause we think it's fun sometimes lol.
  
• We're both highly intuitive, but Sags often miss the tangible things while Aquas are hyperaware on top of their intuition. They're also more detail oriented.
  
• When in love, Sags have a more dramatic way of showing love. Aquas are not less loving, generous or committed, but their expressions are not as intense and over the top... And I prefer the Aqua way of showing love tbh.
  
• We're both ambiverts, but Sags' need for balance is greater. Aquas have an easier time being alone for an extended time, but it also takes more time for them to burnout from too much social interaction.
  
• If you have one Aqua and one Sag in your life that you aren't super close to, the Aqua will probably be way more reliable. But if they do love you, the Sag is likely to be the most dependable one (but tbh both are very devoted once we commit).
  
• We're both curious and thirst for in depth knowledge, and we're likely to be interested in other cultures, art, psychology, politics, science, history etc. But Sags want to use their knowledge to be able to analyse the big picture or understand themselves and others rather than just the specific thing they're currently learning about (connecting the dots), while Aquas are more interested in factual matters, the specific topic at hand and hence absorb more concrete information. A good example is how both me and an Aqua friend have been interested in True Crime for more than a decade in my case and more than two in his. His main reason is Criminal Technology and fascination by morbidity, while my interest has always just been one aspect of my intense general interest in psychology and the human mind.
  
• We both have a high need for freedom and autonomy and are hesitant to committing, but with Aquas it's mainly interpersonal (needing it in relationships) and have an easier time committing to a project or job, while Sags are like that in every area of our lives.
  
• Sags are more likely to get clingy when in love, and struggle more with letting go.
  
• We both have a very childish, goofy and playful side with a "quantity over quality" attitude to humor... But while Sags tend to like dark humor too, our overall goofy vibe is more like a toddler's, while Aquas are 7-12 yr olds lol.
  
• We're both inventive and have a high creative drive, but Aquas are more methodical and more likely to actually finish their projects/follow through... Like, Sags will write fantastic lyrics and come up with melodies to 20 songs in a day, but then get bored with the idea of perfecting it or actually picking up an instrument and put things together.... While Aquas take their time to make a perfect, finished piece of art.
  

What are some differences and similarities y'all have noticed?

As the title says, Reddit has been my home of the internet for many years now, reaching 10, but I feel it's too easy to let it ruin a lot of things going for me. I have a severe porn addiction and this is just a root cause in one of my past relationships. My last girlfriend was awesome, super hot too, but for some reason I find myself opening Reddit at random time, seeing some titties, then just masturbating alone when my girlfriend is right there and ALWAYS down for some fun. Like, ALWAYS. She was flippin' nuts. Sexy. But nuts. But I still come back to reddit and end up looking at stuff I don't need to. I hate myself for the fact that I'm emotionally and I guess digitally cheating on my ex girlfriend, and sorta on this woman I'm slowly developing with, and I just want to get better. I feel like writing here is a good form of therapy for me. I have a problem with the way I see content of women on the NSFW side of Reddit, and I save it in my Reddit saves, for obvious reasons. I then had my ex girlfriend get super upset with it when she checks, and I really feel bad for doing it. I honestly don't know why I'm so easy to set these feelings aside for myself so I can do it again. It seems that I'm always thinking about my life and the decisions I make on the daily when I'm not sober. I'm on my porch at 4:45am smoking weed and thinking, like I usually do, and I just never seem to take a step back and think when I'm sober. I've said to myself and others that my sober person is a fuckin' idiot. I've gone through a few accounts already because I said I would stop, then delete the account, only to make a new one later for the normal reddit stuff, but it's so easy to make the same mistake. I plan on doing better. I've been doing good on other aspects of life in the last while, but this is something that just keeps happening, and I just wanted to write this out for myself so I can understand exactly what the problem is as a whole, and work on it. Opinions are appreciated. Thank you for reading. Have a good morning.

My wife and I bought a house on the water a few years ago. For the first year and a half we never really saw roaches. Then work had both of us away from home for about 14 hours a day. We would occasionally see one. Recently she made the decision to be a stay at home mom though. At first the frequency of the sightings was about the same until it became less as the house was kept cleaner. Then suddenly a couple of weeks ago we couldn't go into the kitchen without seeing one. Then it became multiple every time.
Last night I made the decision to solve the problem. I bought spray killer for when I see live ones, some bait stations, diatomaceous earth powder, expanding foam spray, a syringe of gel bait, some tabs of boric acid, and some repellant spray for around my outside doors and windows. I came home and started pulling everything out from the wall and cabinets.
Opened a few appliances, cleaned them out, pulled out all the drawers and emptied out the cabinets. Thought I had found the source right then. There were (what I thought at first) so many. There had to be at least 50. I began spraying them down and killing as many as possible. Wiped everything out, threw some powder down, and went forward. I pulled every outlet out of my wall. The GFCI's were hell. I have no idea why they seem to love GFCI's so much. Threw some boric acid tabs through the gaps in the outlet box, sealed off the hole with the expanding foam, threw some powder in the outlet box, and reinstalled my outlets. By this time I thought I was just about home free.
Then I found one going into the seam of my kitchen bar. I never really notice there was a seam. I figured I'd just spray into that crack and see if it happens to kill that one. As soon as I did that, dozens began running out of where I sprayed. The seam goes along the entire under-side of my bar. I had to know, so naturally. I sprayed the entire length of the bar and unleashed hundreds of them. They were coming out faster than I could keep up with. I used the entirety of my spray killer and they were still coming out. I had my wife load out pump sprayer with our concentrated vinegar (it was all I had on hand) and continued spraying until it stopped. I was clearly unprepared. This was one seam on the bottom side of my counter. I went ahead and did the rest of them and have no doubt amassed a death toll in the thousands.
Considering that I've had nightmares about roaches for as long as I can remember, today was definitely my personal hell but I'm thankful that I've at least taken a shot back at the problem. My Alpine WSG will be here next week. I need a shower.

I've been dating with this girl for almost 3 months. At the same time I've been on a job hunt.
During these months, We've went for dinner couple times (where I paid for both of us) and also cooked at home or went outside (without always spending a lot).
Early on she mentioned that wants a relationship, after I told her that I am on a job hunt and also want to get to know her better , she said can "wait for me" due to my current situation.
Fast forward, everything was going smooth and she showed a lot of attention to me seemingly unbothered by the situation.
Last week and out of nowhere, she started acting distant so I asked her to meet.
In person, she told me that she wants to end things, and the reason was that she stopped having patience on my job situation anymore, and that she stopped liking me (even though she was love bombing me the past few days), only to add the fact that "I can't buy things for her (gifts/clothes/exp restaurants) and go shopping with her therefore she has to do it with her friends".
I was shocked to hear this and confronted her saying that a relationship is about building trust and creating a bond and definitely not looking for a sponsor to buy you stuff.
her reply was "I am a selfish person, that's me."
I told her that I'm done with this, she left without saying anything and blocked me instantly from everywhere.
Thoughts? I believe it is not normal for a woman to have these demands, especially so early on, I also find strange that she went from being very interest to this in just a few days.
PS1: At that period, I was still getting multiple interviews and doing anything I can to land a decent job
PS:2 We never had any fights during this 3 months nor anything shady occurred from her side, so I find it strange that her entire behavior changed within a span of 3-4 days.
TL;DR Situashionship ended things out of nowhere due to me not being able to buy her materialistic things

Story of Camossung
Camossung was a young girl whose home site was destroyed by the great flood.
After searching and scouring the land for food they found none and were left
starving.
Camossung went to the water pleading to Hayles the transformer, who
was a sun at this moment, to provide her with food, and Hayles responded to her
pleadings.
Hayles leaned down and offered her sturgeon.
The girl said she did not like fish, so Hayles threw it somewhere on the mainland.
Then they offered cranberries and again she refused, so they threw it towards what is known as Shawnigan Lake.
The things she did not refuse were ducks, herrings, coho, and oysters, which grew in abundance before colonization.
Before Hayles punished her for her greed Camossung, thinking of her people,
asked Hayles for trees that would ‘touch the sky,’ flowers to cover the rocks, a
good harbour to protect the canoes, and for milder and warmer winds.
Taking these into consideration, Hayles nodded; they changed some of Camossung’s
people into trees known today as Garry Oaks.
They transformed others into flowers, such as blue camas and the Easter Lily, and finally Hayles bade the northwest wind warrior spirit not to deal too harshly with the land of Camossung.
With those changes, Hayles made the harbour of the Gorge and then sprinkled
water onto Camossung, turning her into a rock so she could protect the plentiful
things that would feed and heal her people.
Camossung’s grandfather was also someone who was close to her, so he too changed into a rock with her.
At one point in time these rocks could be seen under the water of the Gorge where the
reversible falls are; however, the rocks were blasted in the 1900s.
The sculpture symbolizes the importance of this location.
It’s a unique place, where fresh and salt-water merge with each ebb and flow of the Gorge Waterway.
It’s a place where animals thrive and where people sought food and a spiritual connection.
An ancient Songhees story tells of a young girl named Camossung, turned to stone by Hayls, the Transformer.
Camossung is believed to have spirit powers.
She protects the Songhees people’s local food resources of coho salmon, herring, oysters and ducks.
The original sacred stone is located below the southern side of the Tillicum Bridge.
You can see it beneath the water at low tide.

Day 140 ! I posted a week or so about going on a stag do (Batchelor party) that I was organising and being worried. It was HAAARRRD work but in the end I came through the other side without touching a drop. And I had a great time !!
I was organising so the ability to wake up early feeling fresh was great ! It meant I could make sure all the activities for the day were on schedule and also meant I could go and explore before the rest of the group was awake. Honestly felt like two trips in one. Morning me was exploring the city and then day me was leading the charge!
There was times I felt left out without drinking. Entire activities based around it. In particular the drinking games. I think my friends overlooked me a bit I mean what’s the point of getting the sober guy to chug his zero percent beer right !? Ended up having to eat a spoonful of hot sauce each time in the end. A cruel but thoughtful way to get me involved again haha
But I reached the end of the weekend feeling like I had been there for all of it ! No regrets no worries zero anxiety. I wasn’t crawling into the plane to get home. I caught up with old mates and had an awesome time. And came out a little bit stronger.
Don’t let this rose tinted view fool you though I Was tempted the entire trip. It’s hard to break up with alcohol when it’s around you 24/7. I had plenty of exchanges with my partner back home to keep me on track. I had the glass to my lips more than once and I’m lucky to have solid friends to make me think twice. When I got back home I had to be alone for a day to really recharge my will power it’s mentally draining but worth it !
P.s I put on some serious weight replacing beer with endless rounds of kebabs. LOVE IT

Hi there. My gf and I (both 25) have been together for over 3 years and we’re now engaged and would like to get married in the next 18 months.
There’s been a lot of issues between my in-laws and my family but especially between my gf and my family, especially with my mother. They described my gf as manipulative, gold digger and so on… My family and my in-laws don’t talk to each other anymore because of that and I’m the one on both sides of the « families relationships »
My in-laws earn more money together than my parents and thus have a better lifestyle than my family. They have 2 children with my gf being the younger and she has her own bedroom at my in-laws place.
I am the eldest of 3 kids and my 2 brothers ( 24 and 20 ) still live with my parents. My bedroom was given to my younger brother when I left my parents for work. Also, my gf and I come from the same city so our parents live like 15 mins apart.
Coming to the point: I’ve been off for the last 3 weeks and decided to visit my parents. My gf and I stayed there for like a week (spaced days but 3 times 2 days spent there). My parents always complain that I don’t spent time with them and my brothers but when I visit them, one of my brother is at work and the other one is away with his gf. Also, when I visit them, we spend all the time at home, watching Netflix or whatever and it bores the hell out of me. My mom is talking 24/7 about money, how she got a deal on this, how much is this worth and the way she dresses to make you think that she’s rich when she’s not. She’s also very judgmental about me and my decisions: I decided to get my ear pierced and she didn’t like it at all ( literally told me wtf is that ), I gained a lot of weight for the past 4 years and she keeps reminiscing the time when I was thin, always judging about my body and appearance and it really starts to piss me off. She clearly has some inferiority complex with money, especially with my in-laws. Also, I just turned 25 and I didn’t expect a present from my parents because they didn’t give anything for the last 5 birthdays and apparently they bought this all in 1 IPhone charging station ( I already have one ) which they wanted to give me. Tbh it looked like they just didn’t think about a gift at all and they tried to hide it. I didn’t feel disappointed at all but I just felt ashamed for them like if you didn’t think about it just say it to me.
So, AITA for spending more time with my in-laws?
Do you have any ideas on how to deal with it and maybe have a discussion with my parents ?

I have had my kitten for almost a year now and he turned 1 in March. I adopted him when he was 4 months old and I got my resident kitty when he was about 6 weeks old. I was in college when I got my first cat and he was absolutely insane (as all kittens are). He stressed me tf out and I definitely played with him with my fingernails (which I later read is not smart to do) as he now bites me and anyone who comes over to get attention. I have moved many times with my cat and he has lived with other cats that do not particularly like him and has played with small dogs his size. He is half maine coon and is about 15 lbs. Most female cats have not gotten along with him in the past even though he just likes to follow them around and watch them or even boop their nose with his paw out of curiosity and maybe social awkwardness as he was raised in my 1 br apartments.
I recently graduated and had a full time job. I did not feel like I had enough time for him as he is very affectionate and playful. He has always gotten along with other animals and showed a lot of interest in other furry friends. Last summer I had recently moved into my own place after living with my roommate and her 2 female cats and had decided I wanted to get him a friend. I went to the nearest animal shelter just to play with the cats. As soon as I got there the people at the shelter told me about a kitten they wanted me to meet. I told them I didn’t think it would be a good idea and that I didn’t think I had the time for another crazy kitten. Long story short, I fell in love with little him and couldn’t stop looking at the pictures I took of him and picked him up the next day.
When i adopted him they assured me that since my resident cat was so relaxed and the kitten was well socialized I would be fine to introduce them a few hours after I got him settled at my apartment and they’d play all day long and blah blah blah. I got him home, played with him, let him smell my cat under the door and eventually let them into the same room. Immediately my kitten was showing signs of aggression which my resident cat was not even responding to. Most of the time when my kitten is being aggressive (puffy tail, walking sideways, ears back, tail flapping) my resident cat is laying down a few feet away. Also, he was so tiny compared to my cat but eventually they slept together in my bed and on the floor.
My kitten plays rough and I thought since my cat likes to bite me and attack my arms (sometimes he is insanely aggressive and very strong) he would be a perfect wrestle buddy. There have been multiple times where I have had to separate them from rolling around on the ground or one pinning the other to the point where they are screaming. It’s like watching WWE they throw each other and chase each other but it always seems to end with aggression from one of them. My kitten will stalk my cat and chase him up the cat trees, wait for him to get out of the litter box and chase him under the bed, or anytime my cat gets near the couch my kitten will shake his booty and run after my cat until he’s in another room. My cat is very chill and he has distanced himself from me. It was unfair of me to improperly introduce them and allow my kitten to bully my resident cat. I do not want my resident cat to hate me and I want him to be able to cuddle with me without fear of being body slammed. My kitten is very affectionate and sweet and I want to make sure I try everything to make this situation work. After initially separating them, my cat started doing some of the things he used to do again but after letting them spend longer periods of time together, my kitten is doing the same things.
My bf and I have been separating them for a few weeks. We live in an 800 sft apartment and are moving to a space that is twice the size in less than a month. I messed up with the initial introduction and have separated them recently as the issues have gotten worse. I have been feeding them separately and worked them up to feeding with the door open just on different sides where they don’t see one another and only letting them spend time together supervised. We have kept my kitten in the bedroom and bathroom, moving him to the bathroom at night and allowing my cat to be in the bedroom and living room at night. I am unemployed and spending all day at home. Both kittens cry when I leave one room and my kitten has even learned how to jump against the door to open it. I resorted to letting them hang out in the living room, separating their food and water, and separating my kitten when he is aggressive towards my cat. I just read about not free feeding so I will pickup their hard food bowls tomorrow. We also have a spray bottle and have been watching them play and spraying the kitten when he bites or jumps on top of my cat to the point he is trying to flee. We are trying to teach boundaries but my cat will let him bite and swat at him until he screams in pain and just runs away. My cat is a lover not a fighter and my kitten is both.
Lastly, we have urgently been trying to work on these behaviors because we are planning on introducing my bfs dog to our cats when we move. I am confident that my resident cat will get along with her but I am fearful my kitten will not adjust. We are planning on keeping the kitten in a room to himself and my cat in another room. We are getting a baby gate to first introduce her to my cat and eventually face to face meeting. We are planning on starting the reintroduction process over again in the new place for a longer period of time. We are hoping that reintroducing the cats and then my kitten seeing my cat and dog interacting calmly and relax with the aggressive behaviors. I have tried to spend time with them playing separately in their spaces and then playing with them together and half the time leads to the rough playing that stresses my cat out. His dog is laid back but he is unsure how she would react to the kitten biting, scratching, or being rough. I want to give my kitten the best life possible. He is so adorable and has so much energy and love to give. He is smart and understands he is being bad when he’s biting his brother!
If you got this far thank you so much and if you have any advice I would greatly appreciate it!!!

Last night I betrayed someone I cared about. Words cannot describe the bitterness and disgust I feel.
I am back home in Sydney, and I am safe. For those of you who have been following along, I found a way to resolve my situation with the Tremere Primogen. But I don’t think I was prepared for what it would cost me.
I had fled Australia a month ago for the safety of my sire’s haven in Valencia, Spain, travelling in secrecy in the squalor of unattended ship compartments. My return was a stark contrast, aboard the private jet I had chartered. No need for subtlety when you’ve already told the guy who wants you dead that you’re coming to see him. Would that the jet was the highest cost I paid…
When I arrived I was greeted by Thomasina, my Toreador Primogen, with whom I had arranged to set up a peaceful meeting with the Tremere Primogen so that I could negotiate an end to hostilities. Though, I was warned that if things went south my clan would not risk going to war with the Tremere just to protect me. No pressure. Also there to greet me was… my faithful assistant, Sophie…
We met the Tremere Primogen on neutral ground, at the Royal Botanical Gardens. The serene environment of the Formal Garden, where grand ceremonies are often held, bizarrely juxtaposed the tension in the air. The plan was simple; I had never practiced blood magic myself, only sold the services of Gregory, a former Tremere contact of mine, through BLVSH to other kindred. So, really, it was my contact who was disobeying the chantry and dealing behind its back. A contract who had betrayed me too, tried to kill me. For all anyone knew, I had no idea he was betraying the chantry and acted in good faith. Certainly, no one had proof I knew otherwise. And I happened to have that traitor staked and gift-wrapped, courtesy of Sandu. Wouldn’t it be easier for everyone involved if I just handed over Gregory to be executed for his crime?
The Tremere Primogen was as cold and severe as I remembered but, though he was initially skeptical, seemed to be in agreement. Upon handing over Gregory, he decided I was innocent of practicing blood sorcery outside of chantry control. But he was not yet satisfied. He said that selling the services of blood sorcery behind his back was still an injustice that needed to be righted. “I want to believe you,” he said. “I want to believe you’re an upstanding member of the court of Sydney. But I have records that BLVSH knowingly acted in defiance of the chantry. Only two people were involved in that side of the business. If it wasn’t you, clearly it was your ghoul.” Sophie… my dear Sophie…
I’m sure the Tremere Primogen knew it was me. He just couldn’t prove it. But he wanted to twist the knife, just to show who was in charge. My ghoul, he said, had endangered both our lives by putting us at odds with each other through her reckless actions. Justice demanded she be punished for it. And I… what else could I do but agree?
I saw the terror in Sophie’s eyes as they dragged her away from me. Sophie had been nothing but loyal, and yet here she was, being offered up as a scapegoat for my sins. My beautiful Sophie, she refused to turn on me, even as I turned on her. I stood there, powerless, as the Tremere Primogen reached his hand out to Sophie. Time seemed to slow as I looked on. And… all he did was touch her, and, jesus the horror of it. She practically melted before my eyes. Her skin began to drip from her body as her blood boiled. She clawed at her head as her hair came away in clumps and her eyes poured out of their sockets. I wanted to look away, but I couldn't. I needed to see the full extent of my betrayal. And the screams. God, the screams. I can still hear them in my head. If there is any justice, I always will hear them.
And… and I am free. All is forgiven. Business as usual in the uncaring nights I reside in. And all it cost me was my closest, most trusted friend. What a bargain. I’m a fucking monster, and a coward, and a failure, and a terrible friend. I was too weak to accept the consequences of my actions. I’m no better than Gregory. Here in my empty haven, with only my guilt and shame for company, I still see the hollow sockets where Sophie’s eyes were when my eyes close. I’m sorry, I failed you.
Oh, and when I got home I destroyed my garden in a frenzy of rage and self-loathing. It’s okay, I don’t deserve beautiful things. I can’t take care of them.

• Alyx.

Hey everyone, hope you’re all doing well. I (23M) recently got diagnosed with autism. I’m originally from Kochi, Kerala, and currently working in Chennai. This diagnosis came just a few weeks ago. After college in Chennai, I got a job offer from a company here, and since then, I started noticing certain things about myself. My team lead had a talk with me, suggesting I look into my well-being, and eventually, I found out I’m autistic.
I shared this with my dad, who lives in Kochi, and we realized he might also be on the spectrum. We’re planning a joint consultation when I visit home. Initially, my dad thought I was exaggerating, but after doing some research, both he and my mom agreed with me. So far, I’ve only discussed this with four of my friends because of the misconceptions about autism in India.
I haven’t figured out how to open up to the rest of my family about this. For a long time, I’ve been annoyed by certain things they do but kept it to myself to avoid causing a scene. They generally think I’m laid-back and mostly chill, though socially awkward. If someone disturbs me, I might react strongly, which has led to a few incidents. I come across as rude sometimes without meaning to, but they attribute it to social awkwardness. I also avoid texting, preferring long conversations over the phone or in person, which they just see as part of my character. And also generally VERY clumsily. But mostly positive and think good of me,
But I wanted to let them know that I am autistic, just so that in the future I can avoid any misunderstanding and fights. But after a recent event I am shit scared. So My oldest cousin got married to this guy back in 2018. But later turned out he had BPD and the shit that they talked and done to him is just appalling. The only person who were supporting him was my parents and a few cousins (There is no SA for DA, its just that my sister found him odd and after he was diagionised she just left him cold, like they have 2 kids with him, but still she just left him like she never knew him cause of u know misconption), My parent where like at least lets support him for his treatment but they were like NOPE. And the shitest thing is they got divorced by telling the court he was abscounding and did some shady stuff so they can be legally divorced but doesn't have to inform him because they got scared on how he would react. FFS they even denied to have the kids visit him. I ain't no legal expert but long story short they got divorced and the poor guy thinks she would come back to him with the kids after he gets his MH in order.
So after this incident I am shit on how to proceed, cause I feel something similar can happen to me. My parents also warned not to tell anyone about this. I have a cousin who is the US, she is my first cousin and the same age is me. We are pretty close so i was wondering starting from there, and she is from my mom's side of the family (the same one where the divorced story happened) and for my dad's side I have a cousin who lives in Bangalore, he is like very old, like his son is 4 years younger than me. But a very chill dude, I can rely on him. But I have no clue on how to proceed with this so if anyone who has a similar experience or any idea on how to do it, do let me know cause i have no clue on how to tell another person that I am autsitc.
Also thank you to everyone who took their time to read this very long post, sorry for that.

I want to be hopeful and optimistic but the vast number of online disappointments make it difficult. Here are some things I don't want. Please don't contact me if you are not interested in reading the post. or do not want to talk long term and would be planning on ghosting me or disappearing within 1-2 days.
I am someone who is quite a sweet and effortful person. I would love an online connection with someone similar to me and have good, intellectual conversations and also share some laughter and affection. Affection can light us up and make us happy. (Even platonic connection is fine.) I like giving and receiving affection in the form of cute, little nicknames for each other, checking up on each other, asking about each other.
Of late, I have been watching a lot of couple pranks on YouTube. They teach me a lot about couple dynamics (what kind of dynamics are healthy and what are toxic). It would be nice to have someone to discuss these kinds of dynamics with. Sometimes I like those pranks where one pretends to be angry and the other kind of comforts them. It would be nice if we could enact that sometime.
I hope my words sail to some worthwhile eyes on the winds of destiny.
I have grown wary of superficial connections, no effort replies and even abrupt ghosts.
I would like someone with whom I can exchange sweet words with. I am quite a romantic person and I was more so as earlier. A lot of responsibilities were thrust upon me with time, but I have rediscovered that side of myself. I would love to have a pretend romance with an online companion - where we pretend like we are long lost soul mates and trade fiery words of sweet passion for each other.
But, that is completely optional. I am fine with a wholesome, platonic connection as well.
If you've reached this far, it's because of some happy confluence of my words, the Reddit algorithm and fickle fortune.
Our meeting seemed to dangle so much on fate, it's only fair we pay our dues. Give it our best shot. Do justice to the matchmakers of heaven - The directors of this romance.
I'm on the quest for a sweet companion. Someone with a good heart. Kind and empathetic - Like my own. The good person at the end of the romcom when the attractive antagonists lose their allure.
I love bonding with someone through heart to heart conversation. Through exchanging genuine care and concern. Through passionate exchange of our interests and hobbies. Through clockwork logging of our daily lives. Through mindful curiosity in each other's interests. Through mutual preference for glitter over gold, depth over deception, charm over carelessness and symphonies over superficiality.
The conversation starts out with pleasantaries and outward introduction of our demographic information - the most rudimentary. The most formal. Gradually, the outer layers crack and a mild joke cuts across the mask and we're another layer deep. Common or different tastes in art are the usual social custom for making new acquaintances.
Soon, our conversation flows like a roaring river eliciting deep intellectual and emotional responses from both of us.
We're discussing prized memories and cherished fantasies of the future. Chalking out hypotheticals and admiring the other's world views. Pretty soon, we're suddenly bare and feeling a strong bond by virtue of what we've shared.
Small silences punctuated the conversation. These silences were not awkward. It was a comforting waterfall of connection. It was the silence that followed from both of us knowing and enjoying the bond created by our hearts.
I loved the feeling of ending a conversation with a stranger on the first day with the feeling you've known them for years. I harboured romantic beliefs that such a connection must be the byproduct of a relationship in a previous life !
Here are a few things about me -

• I love staying at home.
• I do not drink or smoke and don't like going to noisy pubs. Although there are times when friends or office parties are conducted there, it's something I just tolerate.
• I love reading. I am interested in programming, Mathematics, Chess, Science, Psychology, Geopolitics, Space, Literature (fantasy particularly or late but I like all kinds) and Self Help (Productivity and Positive Psychology) - and a lot more ! I'm generally intellectually curious and a lifelong learner.
• I love following updates on things I'm passionate about and sharing them regularly. I love following podcasts and blogs and videos on them and sharing and discussing them. I also love explaining a new thing I have learnt as it helps me understand it better.
• I tend to be positive and look at the brighter side of life usually. But I also like sharing the problems I am going through and like listening to your's.
• I love animals. I have a lot of pets. I am also quite close to my family and am surrounded by my loving pets (5 dogs and 4 cats). I recovered from dengue last month and they were always around me all the time. It felt very good.
• I love putting in effort into messages and writing effortful messages and generally use complete words and not much abbreviations. I love crafting a symphony of text.
• I am usually quite calm and supportive and remember things that are told to me in conversation. I like getting emotional and expressive and am soft hearted and sensitive. I am also quite mature and enjoy talking to similarly mature people.

Do not reach out to me if you're just bored, did not read the post, don't like anything about me or my profile or don't know what you want or don't want to invest in having a good connection or don't even have the intention for talking for a few weeks. I am already quite hurt at repeated ghosting so please do not even reach out to me if you intend to ghost by tomorrow or next week.
Here's what I would like from us

• Genuine interest, care and empathy for each other - Making each other a priority though we are strangers at first. That's part of the excitement in jumping head first into this ! That does not mean we do not respect each other's busy schedules or commitments. I'm looking for something really genuine.
• Regular effortful messages, and remembering things the other says
• I love sharing or explaining anything new I learn, whether it is a blog post, podcast, video, book or a general thought that came through my mind. It would be great if you love listening to good explanations and are interested in such things. I'd also love it if you too like sharing blogs or podcasts on topics that you are interested in but it's not necessary.
• I also love self improvement and sharing progress or motivation as we are doing things towards our goals and dreams.
• I love voice calls as I love the sound of voice. I would love it if you are someone who is excited at having regular voice calls (2-3 times a week) or at least exchanging voice messages at times !
• We don't need to have similar taste in art (music, TV shows, movies). I am open to learning about new kinds of interests and new subcultures !
• Openly sharing our thoughts on the bigger ideas and arcs of life and also venting about the smaller frustrations
• Being excited at receiving messages from the other person every time we light each other's phones up.
• [Optional] Some online romance where we sometimes say things to each other that make us blush like our first crush. A little romance to brighten each other up. Though this is completely optional. Sometimes sharing sweet, romantic messages with each other and maybe even doing this on voice calls too.

Also would be nice if we can just share photos so we can visualise what we look like as I like sharing photos when I go somewhere. I just like getting this out of the way. It doesn't matter to me what you look like, but I do like to know whom I'm talking to make us blush like our first crush. A little romance to brighten each other up. Though this is completely optional. Sometimes sharing sweet, romantic messages with each other and maybe even doing this on voice calls too.
Also would be nice if we can just share photos so we can visualise what we look like as I like sharing photos when I go somewhere. I just like getting this out of the way. It doesn't matter to me what you look like, but I do like to know whom I'm talking to.

Initially, the TV had bad enough banding to be slightly visible when, for example, I would be on the YouTube app home screen. I put it on full brightness, ran some "nature/scenery" videos for 10-15 hours, then ran the pixel refresher (the long one in the settings). That fixed it and so far I haven't had issues with banding at all. I want to keep it that way.
Other than that, I have only ran it when suggested (the short one; I don't think the long one has been automatically ran again). However, sometimes I come back to my TV while in the midst of watching whatever (when I wake it from the screen saver) and it asks to run the 5min pixel refresher. I have generally opted to just wait until I'm "done" with watching whatever, under the impression that it if the picture quality is more than good enough for me, that there's no downside to delaying doing the 5min refresher.
I plan on keeping this TV for at least another year or two, and with that in mind, should I start running the quick picture refresher at the TV's suggested intervals (aka as soon as it gives the prompt to), or is what I'm doing no worse (if not better)?
I have not noticed any picture quality issues by opting to wait to turn it off to run the refresher. My question is more of a long term picture quality/damage question.

Hi all, Despite having over 100lb to lose I’ve been a slow loser at approx 1lb/week. I was initially on semaglutide for several months but then switched to zepbound about three months ago after I was blessed with insurance coverage.
Nausea and side effects have been much lower in Zepbound which is great because I have a SEVERE phobia of vomiting.
Well this morning I took my 5mg shot and then went out for lunch. I drink A LOT less now but the restaurant I went to was running a free guac with purchase of a special margarita. So I ate a small amount of guac and had two margaritas (in hindsight, probably should have one). Probably because I was tipsy, I went home and thought it would be a good idea eat a box of hot tamales 🤦🏼‍♀️
I’ve been feeling bloated and gross since then, which happens when I’ve overeaten before, but then three hours later I vomited and another 12 hours after I vomited again.
Please put my mind at ease, I’m just a ball of anxiety right now. I’m still able to pass little bits of stool so I’m assuming it’s not a blockage. This just is a normal reaction some have when they’ve made the mistake of overeating on this medication right? It’s just taking longer because digestion is so slow but I should be feeling better in a day or two?

The cases of Natália and Isadora

Natália Sampaio had a troubling raising, her parents were never married, and her family struggled financially. She initially lived with her grandmother from her mother side. But after reaching thirteen she went to live with her two brothers, who were farmworkers. When she was fifteen years old, she dropped from school. A move that both her brothers and her grandmother disapproved. She then started basically to spend more time out of home in Cumuruxatiba, which is a neighborhood in the small beachside municipality of Prado - Bahia, Brazil.
She then started to get involved with drugs and sadly, to sustain her addiction, relied in prostitution, a move that her family didn't know about. At the age of 16 she became acquaintance with Isabel Fernandes, who was 15 years old at that time. Isabel was also addicted and misguided by Sampaio, they started to do small thefts and also prostituted herself.
In April, 2021, Sampaio wanted to change her life and come clean, so she told her grandmother that she wanted to go back to school, also telling her, her wrongdoings. Her grandmother did something that she regrets until this very day, she didn't trust in her and told her granddaughter to seek her mother or her brothers for housing and support.
Late in April, both Fernandes and Sampaio went missing. They went to a Luau that oftens take place in the town, on the beaches. Some days later, Sampaio's remains were found on a river, strangled with a rope tied to a heavy stone. Fernandes remains and whereabouts are still unknown until this day, she is presumably deceased.

The cases of Erika and the Prado's Jane Doe

In June, 2021. Another female body was found in Jucuruçu River, the initial investigation believed it would be Fernandes remains, but after the autopsy, the woman could not be identified, it was in an advanced stage of decay, and from bones and teeth, they could only identify that the woman was in her early 30s, late 20s.
The woman was body's was found strangled in the neck with a rope, the rope was tied to a heavy stone. The woman identity's remains a unsolved mystery until this very day.
Erika Batista lived in Teixeira de Freitas a satellite town in the southern region of Bahia, she was eighteen years old, a Baptist and a student, in her High School sophomore year. In August, 2021. Batista asked her mother if she could go to a camping trip with a group of friends from her Church. Her mother, Leidiane Batista, initially declined, but moved by her daughter's plea, let her go. "Don't drink alcohol, don't have sex, don't go to parties", she told her daughter.
Her boyfriend at that time, Jhonatas Rocha, and an unnamed minor close friend also went with her. August 21th, they went to a boat trip in Jucuruçu River and then in the night they went to the beach and started a firecamp along with their group of friends. Walking at night on the beaches of Prado is something really common that both tourists and citizens regularly do. So the group often split, so duos or trios could roam through the beautiful scenario, featuring a full moon.
This would be the last time they would see Batista alive, as she and a her close friend went roaming through the beach. That friend of her was smitten by Batista and they both had a fling, but Batista was dismayed of betraying her boyfriend, so she and her friend had a little misunderstading. Batista was furious and told her that she wanted to go alone, a mistake that probably cost her life.
Three hours later, her boyfriend realized that her friend returned, but Batista didn't, so he went to look after her, only to find her 3 miles away, in the river's mouth, naked, strangled with a rope and the rope was tied to a stone. He could barely see someone fleeing the scene and he ran back to the group after, unsuccessfully trying to revive Batista.
The investigation never led to a suspect. All the cases remain unsolved.

My final thoughts

Three women killed in the same way, one missing. In the region of Teixeira de Freitas (which encompasses Prado), there is also an unsettling number of women disappearances (three in 2021, four in 2022, and five last year), and if their remains are ever found, they are always sexually assaulted, strangled to death. Then their bodies are tied to a rope and the rope is tied to heavy stone.
If by coincidence there is a copycat, which I don't think it is, I believe that there is a serial killer in the region and I have been documenting these cases and there are many similarities between the cases. I'll link some material, but they are in Brazilian Portuguese, just for reference.
Polícia investiga se jovem estrangulada e morta em praia do Prado foi estuprada
Morte misteriosa de adolescente comove e mobiliza vilarejo no sul da Bahia...
Adolescente que estava sumida desde domingo é encontrada morta com pedra amarrada em pescoço e perfurações no corpo
Prado: Pescador encontra um corpo no Rio Jucuruçu que pode ser da adolescente que estava desaparecida
Continua desaparecida na cidade de Prado, Cristina de Jesus Lima, 22 anos
Mãe procura filha de 14 anos desaparecida há 3 dias em Teixeira

Once i had a dream that I was in a hotel living with my parents for a short time and that felt soo real,and over the course of the dream I met this girl and we kinda flirted and I found one of my old phone from when I was 13 and managed to somehow unlock it after going through the pictures I went to the bathrooms and started losing teeth like my molar, front tooth, bottom tooth and so on. I lost about 8 teeth and it looked so real I couldn't believe it I was like how can I lose 8 teeth all at once, I thought to myself this must be a dream, then if it was a dream I would know/ wake up I was like okay probably not a dream. I went to meet my parents in the hotel and while on the way I saw the girl I was flirting with and we jumped over a truck to go the side of the hotel, this sounds ridiculous. Once I got to my parents side of the hotel I asked reception to call them, they said no and gave me those old phones 📞☎️ to call them and then I was about to call them I picked out the teeth to place them and I suddenly just realised I was in a dream, I woke up like nothing happened. While pondering about this dream I remembered a dream I had before this which was totally unrelated, this dream was about zombies which were scary as hell, I think this happened because last night I watched videos about maze runner and I watched the series all of us are dead.