Goose eggs or bumps on chest or neck

I’m a 🏳️‍⚧️ female living with my grandmother and her current husband. I used to live across the country but moved back home when my grandma started presenting health problems. She is such a private person that she would never tell me her conditions until I moved in to help take care of her. It took her a year to share that she had a major cardiac event which triggered my desire to move close to her since she is the last good family I have.
My grandparents were extremely loving and supportive growing up, but my grandmother has always needed two men in her life. My mom has always joked that she is the most traditional member of our family- we are descended from a pre columbian matriarchal society.
When I was 13, my grandma started seeing her current husband shortly after her previous husband died. Grandma never married my grandfather but he stayed in the picture. This new guy, I’ll call him Peter, was super inappropriate. Right away he started bringing me gifts which mostly consisted of army clothes. He would have me dress up in them and then take pictures. My mom immediately saw the red flags and was very vocal about how creepy he was. My home life was extremely unstable, my mom and her husband would constantly fight- I’m talking screaming matches waking my siblings and I up in the middle of the night. My grandpa and grandma were the only sanctuary away from that for years until Peter was allowed into her home.
I remember one summer where we went over to his house while he was moving in, he gave me a can of some off brand drink already open. It tasted funny but I chalked it up to it being off brand. Then he told me to follow him into the basement and from there my memory just sort of fades out. The next thing I know we’re driving away from his house and I have no idea what time or day it is. I just remember coming to and thinking “that’s weird.”
After that he started taking every opportunity to touch me. I don’t mean sexually, stuff like always grabbing or rubbing my lower back whenever he would pass me in the kitchen. It almost always happened in the kitchen and it was often on my back. He would grope my thighs and tell me how muscular I was getting. When I was lifting weights in my home gym he would press himself completely against me and show me the “correct” way to do a tricep workout while I was bent over.
The older I got the more this behavior seemed disgusting and it didn’t stop until I was 23 but that was because I was never around anymore and had moved 1000 miles away. When I moved back I thought that I could let it go and at first it was nice to just be polite with Peter while taking care of my grandma. But then I got a spine injury and that quickly changed. I would lie on the floor at first for relief because I was scared of becoming addicted to pain pills. So for a month all I did was stay home crying on and off from the pain and praying things would get better. Then one day while playing a game on my laptop I felt someone watching me. It was so painful to turn at the waist that I had to crane my neck but in the doorway was Peter, staring at my ass. At first he flinched then tried to act like he was a concerned and just coming to check on me. I told him I wanted to be left alone and he stood there a while longer before finally walking away. I did start taking muscle relaxers but because of the summer heat and my constant pain I wanted to lie on the cool floor of my office. It doesn’t have a door, just a doorway that I put a curtain in front of. Well, Peter started acting creepy all over again. He would literally sneak across the house- his room is on the other side- just to peak through the curtain and stare. To him it was probably like a game, he’s an 80+ year old nasty man who blasts porn and homophobic rhetoric on his tablet. I became hyper vigilant, always stressed that he would try to barge in on my space at any moment. I would lay facing the door after the first time but he still kept doing his shuffle and slowly open the curtain even though the curtain is mostly see through.
I spent the whole summer in recovery and physical therapy but the floor in my personal space was always the most comfortable place in the house. This went on that whole time and every time I caught him- there were times I didn’t notice he was there until the last second so he probably snuck up on me several other times without me knowing at all- he would say “just wanted to check and see that you’re okay. Funny how all that “checking up” stopped when I was able to sit upright and walk without pain in my lower spine again.
After that it was like being 14 again only this time instead of touching he would ogle. My chest is still something he stares at 🤮🤮🤮🤮 Then in January of 2023 I caught him going through my underwear. I had been extra careful while washing everything because I was afraid he would pull this shit but I walked away for ten minutes and when I came back he had all my lingerie in his hands. I. Fucking. Screamed. I yelled at him to put my clothes back where he found them but Peter just started throwing everything from the washer into the dryer, and then he grabbed everything out of my dirty laundry basket and threw that in the dryer too. He likes to cover his tracks so I think he was trying to make it seem like he was being oh so helpful and putting my laundry in the dryer for me. The way he was touching my underwear told a completely different story.
I love my grandma, but at 22 I tried talking to her about Peter’s behavior and what happened when I was 13. Her response was “I don’t believe that happened.” So, now at 30 I don’t even want to try talking. I just want to enjoy my what time I have left with her because once she’s gone then everyone who raised me is gone. That thought is terrifying and does not help that now when I see Peter all I want to do is scream and throw things. I want to make him cry, make him feel scared, make him run and hide in his own home for the rest of his miserable, disgusting life. Anyways, just wanted to be able to say something somewhere for once and unfiltered. if any other people out there are feeling alone and stuck in horrible situations just know that there's love for you in people you have not met and you're worth more than the bullshit you're put through.

Hi all!
For a long time now I’ve had some issues with ingrown hairs on my chin and neck. I try to pluck the hair, shave it and I use a at-home laser treatment (IPL). But usually it comes back as ingrown hair and bumps.
Does anyone have any tips or recommendations for products that can be used in that area to reduce the issue?

11/20/2017
Log book of Det. Ryan Snow
Case #2798: The Appalachian Murders
The past couple of days are events I pray no one else ever has to go through what Kate and I had. I had her and Mr. Raines cleared of all charges, having found the proof we all needed to end this case and find the true killer. Kate no longer has to go into witness protection and I had given the police a good enough lie to keep myself from looking insane in the eyes of my co-workers. I know no one will ever know the true story or believe it, but I’m writing it out here. It at least needs to be known written somewhere. Even if my and Kate’s eyes are the only ones that will ever read it written out and forever imprinted in our memories.
The morning Kate had run off to the mountains on her own, I had made my way to the Blackwell home where I was immediately met with Mr. Blackwell charging at me and wrapping his large hands around my neck. He was shaking me and blaming me for getting his daughter killed and not doing more to keep her safe. The police who had been called to examine the scene and read Kate’s letter had to sedate Mr. Blackwell to get him off of me, lying him down on the couch, his head resting on Mrs. Blackwell’s legs. Though the woman was distraught and begging the police to bring her daughter back, she still took the time to shoot that cold, death glare my way. The ice in my chest growing. I couldn’t tell these people that this thing had come after me to get to Kate. I knew it wouldn’t change anything. If anything they’d hate me even more for keeping it to myself.
The sheriff was there and he pulled me away from eye sight of the Blackwells, trying to tell me that this wasn’t my fault. But I couldn’t help but blame myself. I should have done everything I could to keep Kate as far from those mountains as possible.
There were no signs of a struggle in Kate’s room and the letter was definitely written in her hand writing. Her father’s rifle missing from the study, a backpack and some food and supplies gone as well. She had only grabbed one set of clothes from her drawers, showing she did indeed have plans on returning after only one night in the mountains to confront whoever or whatever the killer was.
I told the sheriff to keep any police from going up to the mountains without first allowing me to go up there first to find Kate. He of course argued, telling me that he couldn’t break protocol based on any hunches I may have had. However, I told him that I could get Kate back without her putting up much of a fight, whereas she may struggle with a group of cops who didn’t understand the situation she was in. I was close enough to this case to have built a trust with her after all. I was mentioned in her letter about ending this case for me.
It took a good hour to get the sheriff to eye the Blackwells, Mr. Blackwell beginning to stir from his sleep, and allow me to go to the mountains to find Kate. He didn’t bother to call off the search to the police that had already begun making their way to the mountains, but did radio to tell them to not try getting Kate home without first allowing me to speak to her. He then gave me twenty-four hours to find her to which I told him I’d only need at most ten.
Without telling him about the disturbing scratches on my car, I sped to the mountains, taking the same path Kate had that day she took her friends on their trip. The route, as the sun began to rise was scenic. A drive that may have been a sign of a bright future ahead with a beautiful week in the mountains of nothing but nature, was now a reddening sky of horror. I couldn’t understand how Kate felt, going down the same roads that led to her only friends’ fates to avenge them, but the feeling of guilt did weigh heavy on my chest as I saw the signs of the Appalachian Mountain trails grow bigger on the horizon. Guilt for not doing more to prove Kate was innocent, for allowing Mrs. Mayfield for getting killed right before my very eyes, and for Liam for not being lucky enough to save him.
When I finally arrived to the cabin, there didn’t seem to be any change since the first day I was called to the crime scene, the only thing out of place being Mr. Blackwell’s truck parked precariously near the cabin. The police tape was still up, the cars of Kate and Mr. Woolfe still left where they were, the tires still slashed, the door wide open from when Kate, Ms. Greymoore, and Mr. Woolfe ran out of the cabin upon Mr. Billings was killed by an unknown force. All the bodies had been found and were now being prepared by their families to be buried or cremated. Only one body of the five still roaming around to avenge each and every one of their deaths.
I called out for Kate as I made my way into the cabin. The Ouija board was still on the coffee table, the white line of where Mr. Billings had been found lying face first on the floor with his head bashed open remained on the spot. The planchette was still missing. I kept calling out for Kate as I made my way up to the attic, the door left unlocked, using my flashlight to shine down on the white outline where Mr. Steele had been found completely torn apart. To think Kate had done such a thing, I now realize made me look like a complete dumb ass for believing it.
When I couldn’t find Kate in the cabin, I made my way out the cabin, still calling for her. I called out to her, promising that she just needed to come back home with me and we could solve the murders together. I knew it was a lie and that the sheriff would immediately have her take away to some secluded place where the killer couldn’t find her, but it was all I could think of to try luring her out to meet me. Still, she never appeared.
The sun was soon beginning to set as I tried retracing the very steps Kate and Ms. Greymoore had taken to outrun the killer. I had passed the small shrine of flowers and the pictures of Mr. Woolfe where the boy had been found, his face permanently remaining nineteen forever in the photos of him with Kate and their friends. I kept going, trying my best to follow the same path to the cliff where Ms. Greymoore was found, calling for Kate along the way.
It wasn’t until I found the place Kate had buried her best friend that I found Kate. She was on her knees before the rock where she left her bloody handprint, sniffing as her head was lowered, her dad’s rifle in her hands.
“Ms. Blackwell-“ I began as I took a step toward her. I was immediately cut off as Kate jumped to her feet, raising her father’s rifle at my head. I jolted back, raising my hands up to show her I meant no harm to her. “Ms. Blackwell, it’s me, Det. Snow!”
“Detective…?” She gasped, slightly lowering the rifle, but keeping it on me. “P-Prove it!”
“I’m sorry?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I… I thought I saw Sonja…” Kate breathed between tears, the rifle shaking in her hands, “it… It was wearing her face… It had her voice… How… H-How do I know you’re really Det. Snow?”
“You… Saw Sonja?” I asked as gently as I could with a terrified woman pointing a gun my way. “She spoke to you?”
“Prove you’re Det. Snow!” Kate demanded as she stilled her arms, readying the rifle as she pointed straight between my eyes.
“Alright! Alright!” I kept my hands up, backing up slightly as I tried thinking of how I could prove to her I was really me. “I… I, ah… I have… Had a brother… We went to get ice cream together once and… I dropped a dime and went to grab it… I was five… I followed it out to the road and despite how trafficked it was, I didn’t get hit. I grabbed the dime just as a truck was speeding my way and it swerved just before hitting me… Seeing how close I was to death, I dropped the dime and it rolled into the sewer. My brother called me Lucky Dime since then… Saying the dime was lost to me because it did its job in protecting me… I haven’t seen my brother since I was seven and I haven’t spoken to my parents in…” I looked at my watch. “Five years… No one else calls me Lucky Dime… Not even the people at the station know that was my nickname.”
With this, Kate lowered the rifle, her eyes softening from her furious fear to a more melancholy terror. She looked to Ms. Greymoore’s grave marker, her hand print just barely visible In the approaching darkness.
“It… It looked just… Like her…” She sniffed, “it had her voice… Why did it have her voice… Why did it look like her…?”
“Ms. Blackwell,” I soothed, relaxing now that there was no weapon in my face, “we need to head back, your parents are worried about you and the police are looking for-“
“I can’t go back yet!” She snapped at me as she spun to look at me, tears in her eyes. “That thing is still out there and will kill again unless I end it!” She held up her dad’s rifle as if to show me how she meant to “end it.” “I’m not leaving until I end that… Thing that had the balls to wear Sonja’s face and have her voice!”
“Ms. Blackwell, we will catch the killer, I promise, but right now, we need to get you home before your dad ends up killing a police officer for keeping him from looking for you.”
“I told him in my letter I’d be back tomorrow! I’m twenty-years-old, he can’t force me back home if I don’t want to! I just want to stop this thing before it-“
A howling in the distance cut Kate off. Coyote from what I could hear. If I couldn’t get Kate home, I’d have to get her somewhere safe. I turned to begin talking her down and taking her to one of the other two cabins for shelter. However, when I looked back at her, her face had turned to a bone chilling terror I’d never seen on a person before. She looked like hunted prey that had been found by its predator. She gripped her dad’s rifle to her chest tightly, her hand reaching for the trigger.
“Ms. Blackwell, it’s just a pack of coyote,” I tried telling her calmly, “let’s get to one of the other cabins and-“
“No, no, no,” She stopped me as she stepped back, looking around for where the howling was coming from, “I… Heard that same howling just before I saw Sonja! I thought it was far away, but she… She was right in front of me… She… Something was off, but it looked just like her!”
“Ms. Blackwell, you didn’t see Sonja,” I assured her, “I don’t know what you think you saw, but it wasn’t-“
“Lucky… Dime…”
I froze. My blood turned to ice. The fear on Kate’s face grew as she began backing away, her back hitting the grave marker. I spun around to see a figure in the darkness limp toward us, a scratched and garbled familiar voice coming from it.
“Lucky… Dime…” It wheezed, “You brought her… Back… Give her… To me…”
I whipped out my gun, pointing it at this thing that had his voice. I stepped back to stand directly between this thing and Kate.
“Stay back!” I demanded. “Don’t come any closer!”
“Lucky… Di-“
“Shut up! Stop calling me that! Who are you? Not another step or I’ll shoot!”
The thing stopped limping toward us, its body shuddering in place as it stared us down. I took the safety off of my Glock, ready to blow this thing’s head off if it got any closer or even dared using that voice on me again.
“Kate…” It turned its attention to Kate, a completely different voice coming from it, another male’s voice. “Kate… I’m cold…”
“J-Jasper…” Kate began to sob, “Please, stop using their voices… Please stop!”
“Kate… Kate why did… Did you leave me…?” Another male voice asked. “I… I was in so much… Pain…”
“Shut up!” Kate cried out.
“I thought we… Were friends… Kate…” A female voice. “You said you… Loved me… Why won’t… You let me have… Your warmth…?”
“I said shut up!” Kate screamed as she pointed her rifle and shooting at the creature. She had missed, but the thing still let out an ear piercing shriek as it dodged out of the way of the bullets Kate was shooting. It ran off into the darkness, but Kate kept pulling the trigger of her rifle.
“Stop!” I shouted as I snatched the barrel of her rifle, shoving it to the ground before us. “It’s gone, you scared it off, get to the cabins, I’m right here with you!”
I began shoving Kate back toward where the cabins were, the sounds of that thing screaming out in a symphony of different voices ringing out throughout the woods. I shoved Kate into the first cabin we had arrived to, Cabin #1 I could only assume as I slammed the door shut behind us. It smelled God awful, like the smell of the corpse I found on my first murder case, and it was getting darker as the sun began to sink behind the trees outside.
“Detective, it smell terrible in here!” Kate cried out, covering her mouth and nose, but the tears still falling from her eyes were still visible as they rolled down her cheeks.
I pulled her close and kept her behind me as I took my gun and flashlight out. “Stay close to me,” I ordered, leading the way through the cabin, “do not run off or use that rifle without may say so, understood?”
Kate didn’t answer, but I could feel the heat from her body following after me as I made my toward the smell. It was getting worse as we inched closer to a closet door in a hallway that connected the living room to the kitchen. The door was locked, but after a couple of kicks I was able to get the door to swing open, the smell blasting us in our faces making us gag and nearly throw up on the floor. I fumbled around the sides inside the room to find a light switch that I was able to find to the side of the entryway. A yellow light flickered on, revealing the door led to a staircase. I led the way down the creaking steps, Kate close by as she kept her mouth covered with her shirt.
Once we had made our way to the bottom, Kate dropped her dad’s rifle and let out a scream as we stared at what was waiting for us at the bottom of the steps. In a large pile at the corner of this basement room were nothing but skin and bones of humans and animals covered in maggots and flies. Some of the human bodies being small and child-like in size. The missing people who were never found after vanishing when they came to Cabin #2.
I grabbed Kate’s rifle off the floor and began pushing her back up the stairs, her screaming and sobbing all the way back up to the cabin. I slammed the door shut behind us and pushed Kate to the front door.
“We need to leave,” I had told her, trying to calm her down as we made it outside, “we need to get you home and away from here as soon as possible.”
“N-No… No!” She began fighting me, trying to escape my grasp on her. “No! That… That thing is still out there! You saw it! You can’t say you don’t believe me now! It even called you Lucky Dime! It said you brought me back!”
“I’m not saying I don’t believe you!” I shot back. “I do, I saw exactly what you saw, but it’s way too dangerous for you to be out here while you’re the one it’s after!”
“I escaped it once, I can do it again!” Kate pointed out as she struggled against me while I tried getting her into my car. “I’m not running away this time, I want to kill it!”
“God damn it, Blackwell, we’ll let the police handle it! Just because you have a weapon doesn’t make you safe or ready to handle something like… Like that… That thing!”
“It killed my friends! It wants me! I’m going straight to it so I can blow its head off! It’ll come right for me!”
“I came here to bring you back home, not let you accomplish some stupid ass revenge plot! Get in the fucking car, unless you want to end up like those bodies down that-“
“D… De… Detect… Detective…”
A scratched and moaning voice cut me off. Kate and I both froze at the sound of something approaching. I turned to see a police officer stagger toward us from the tree line. I could barely tell who he was or who he used to be, his head held low and blue uniform covered in blood.
“H… Hel… Hel… Help… Help me…" It croaked as it stumbled closer.
I held up Kate's rifle. "Stay back!" I barked. "Not another step!"
The thing that stood before us wearing the cop like a full-bodied suit stopped in place. It swayed where it stood, blood water falling from its head and down to its chest.
"It… It… It's inside… Inside me…" It breathed painfully. "I… I can't… Help… Me…" Its voice then changed to that familiar voice that made my skin crawl. "Lucky… Dime… I… I'm so… Hungry… Give her… To… Me…"
I pulled the trigger of the rifle, hitting the creature in the head, the rest of it staggering backward from the blow. Still though, it remained on its feet, turning itself to look toward us once again.
"Give… Her… To… Me…" It wheeze, blood and brain pouring from where I had shot it, it beginning to stumble toward us once again. I continued shooting, hitting it in the shoulder, the arm, the leg, the head again, but it just kept coming toward us faster, demanding I give Kate to it.
I was about ready to ram it with the rifle, having run out of bullets, when a voice off in the distance made the creature freeze just an inch before us.
"I'm here! I'm here!" It called out in an almost sing-songy way, using the voice of a little girl. "I'm here! I'm here!"
"I'm… Here…" The creature repeated as it jerked its body to look to where the voice was coming from. "I'm here… I'm here… I'm here! I'm here! I'm here!" It began shrieking in a high pitch wail. It sounded like a mixture of different voices ranging from child, to woman, to man. Keeping flat on its feet, its upper body fell forward onto its hands before speedily crawling off like a spider.
We stood in shaking silence for a moment, Kate digging her fingers into my arm while I was too numb from shock to care about the pain she was unknowingly inflicting. It wasn’t until the radio from my car buzzed to life that jolted us back to whatever reality was at this point. I scrambled to the driver’s side, swinging the door open as I fell inside to grab the intercom to respond to the voice yelling for me over the receiver.
“Det. Snow, what the hell is going on up there?” The sheriff’s scratched voice called out over the receiver when I could barely get my name out of my mouth.
“Sh-Sh-Sheriff…?” Was all I could respond with, still trying to wrap my head around what I had just seen.
“Y-Y-Yeah,” he responded in mock shudder, “what the hell is going on up there? I’ve tried radioing every man I’ve got up there and am constantly being left on red! Do I need to send back-up?”
“No!” Immediately, I returned to full reality, finally understanding the severity of the moment and putting that knowledge into my tone. “Landon, do not send any more men up here, call everyone back immediately! I don’t know what this thing is, but it’s too dangerous! Call everyone back, we’re heading back to the Blackwell house now!”
“We?” The sheriff questioned, skepticism in his voice.
“I found Ms. Blackwell, she’s here with me.”
I was met with statice before the voice of Mr. Blackwell blasted over the intercom.
“Bring my daughter home, right now, you son of a bitch!” Mr. Blackwell demanded. “You bring her home this instant before I decide to kick your teeth in!”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the radio was snatched from my hand from Kate. “I’m not coming home until I kill this thing!” She snapped into the radio. “I don’t know what it is, but I at least know I’m not crazy and that it needs to die before it kills anyone else!”
I grabbed the radio from Kate’s hand, beginning to tell her off when a agonized scream erupted from the intercom. I dropped the radio to cover my ears as Kate did, the scream piercing from my car to throughout the forest around us. The voice screaming and crying for help sounded male and it seemed to echo all around us.
“GIVE HER TO ME, YOU SON OF A BITCH!” A mix of the screaming voice and Mr. Blackwell’s hissed out after a good five minutes of screaming before the radio short-circuited and puffs of smoke flowed out.
After allowing my ears to adjust to the sudden silence, I grabbed the radio once again and tried calling for the sheriff, for the cops with us in the mountains, for anyone. When I was met with more silence, I slammed the radio back down on the holder and cursed loudly, hitting the wheel as if it were the source of all my problems.
After a moment to take some deep breaths, I told Kate to get in the car as I placed her rifle in the back seat.
“Didn’t you hear me?” she shot back. “I’m not-“
“Damn it, Blackwell, we have no idea what we’re dealing with, it can mimic peoples’ voices, and it just ran off like a fucking black widow!” I snapped, stepping out of the driver’s seat to glare down at her. “The last thing I’m doing to leaving you here alone and I’m not staying here another second until I can wrap my head around what the fuck I just saw! So, you either get yourself killed out here while I try talking you down this hero complex high, or you’re going to do what I say and get in the damn car!”
We stood in heated silence, glaring each other down before Kate huffed and stormed over to the passenger side of my car and slamming the door shut as she climbed in. I jumped in after her and began driving away from this nutty nightmare I had found myself in.
We drove down the trail back to civilization in silence, Kate staring out the window and trying to keep her tearful sniffs quiet. I had finally begun calming down and was starting to feel bad for snapping at her. She had only gone there to avenge her friends by killing that thing that had most likely killed a whole bunch of cops to find her. However, I still couldn’t just let her stay to hunt it and I didn’t want to stay out in those mountains with some kind of creature that could take the form and voice of someone I knew. I still couldn’t understand what is was I had even seen.
“Wendigo,” Kate whispered, breaking the silence in the car first. She had said it as if she had just remembered something important.
“What?”
“A Wendigo,” She repeated, turning to look to me with wide scared eyes, “that’s what that thing is! It’s a Wendigo!”
“Slow down, what’s a Wendigo?”
“It’s… Oh, just forget it! You wouldn’t believe me anyway.”
“Ms. Blackwell, I just saw a cop being used as a puppet and then run off at inhuman speed on all fours; I doubt I’m not going to believe a single word that comes out of your mouth now. What’s a Wendigo?”
Kate eyed me for a moment before releasing some of the tension from her face as she took a deep breath and began explaining to me. “They’re a Native American myth; it’s believed they’re the spirits of people who would lose themselves in the woods and would end up eating other people to satiate their hunger. I think that’s what that thing is. They can mimic the voices of people who died and use it to lure people to them, they can take the form of that person too.”
“Why does it want female hearts?” I asked, not realizing I had yet told her what my mysterious caller kept asking for when they called me.
“It… It wants my heart?” she asked shakily.
I cursed to myself before letting out a frustrated sigh. “I think this thing wants hearts, but it only wants female hearts. Why? I don’t know yet. But the only other person to be found after killing someone in those cabins was found with his partner’s heart missing to which he was blamed for taking out of her. Recently, I’ve been getting calls from some… Thing wanting me to bring you back here so it could take something from you. It would have taken Ms. Greymoore’s, but you hid her well enough that only the police could find her in time. Now, I’ve been getting calls asking for you and to get something from you.”
Kate looked to me in shock before a wave of guilt twisted her face in pain. “I… I’m so, so… So sorry, Detective!” She cried out. “I… I had… I had no idea you were being… Harassed by it! Had I known it wanted me back and was demanding you brought me here, I never… I didn’t… That’s why it said you brought me back! Oh, I’m such an idiot!” She pressed her hands to her face, grabbing at her hair between her fingers and tightening them around her eyes.
“No, no, no, stop, stop that!” I ordered, screeching the car to a halt, having to bring it to a crooked stop so I could stop her from hurting herself. I snatched her arms from her head and pinned them to her lap, tears flooding her face. “It’s my fault for not telling you sooner! I was too focused on trying to solve this case with the most efficient evidence I could, but that just kept me looking to you as a suspect. I should have stopped thinking you were the killer the moment I got that first call. There’s no way any of us could have seen… This coming… Except people who probably already believe in that kind of stuff or don’t stop to assume a more rational explanation like a cult… I’m… I’m sorry. But, I won’t let it take anything from you, not anymore. I’m going to get you home and then I’ll deal with this with the rest of the police department. You don’t have to deal with this thing anymore, it’ll be my burden from now on. You need time to finally get some rest and mourn your friends with your and their families. It’s already fucked your life up enough, I won’t let it go on making it worse.”
I stopped her before she could argue with me with a wave of my hand. “Your friends’ deaths shouldn’t be your burden to handle. I know you want to be the one who kills that thing and do right by them, but that’s not what they would want. They’d want you to remember them and continue living. They know you didn’t do it, so stop blaming yourself and stop acting like you’re the one who has to make it up to them. I will put an end to this die trying, but you need to go home and be with people who are happy you still get to live.”
Kate looked down at her hands that I kept down on her lap before nodding weakly and letting out a broken “okay.”
“Good, now let’s get you home before-“
My words were cut off when the honk of a car barreling toward us echoed through the woods. The headlights were fast approaching and I barely had time to grab the gear shift to put us back in drive as the other vehicle hit us, forcing us back and forth in one violent motion. It took me a moment to check myself to be sure I hadn’t hit my head on anything or got whiplash from the crash before I immediately returned my full attention to Kate who was kneeling over holding her head. I gently grabbed her shoulder and pulled her up to examine her head. It didn’t appear to have been busted and bleeding, but she was holding the front side of her forehead.
“Are you okay?” I asked her, prying her hand away from the spot on her forehead, seeing that it was beginning to bruise. “Can you hear me? Blink twice if you can understand me!”
“I… I’m f-fine…” she mumbled as she looked to her hand to check if there was blood on her palm, “I… I think I just… Hit… Hit the w-window…” She then blinked twice in my direction before looking to the car that had rammed us.
I turned my attention as well to the car to see it was a police van, it’s front crushed into the left of my front. I quickly jumped out my vehicle and stormed to the van, yelling at who ever was driving the van to come out and explain what the hell they were doing.
The driver’s side of the van swung open once I was near enough and a man in an orange jumpsuit climbed out, staring familiar daggers at me. The moment realization set in, my mixed emotions of confusion, frustration, and fear turned to fury.
It was Leighton Raines.
“Jesus, you really are a shitty detective.” Was all he said to me before reaching into the can and retrieving a rifle out from the passenger seat.
[END OF PART 1]
Part 6

This morning about 11 I woke up and when I got up to the bathroom I tried to feel my pulse and I could barely even feel it unless I pressed hard on my neck. I’m not overweight I’m skinny so body fats not the issue. I don’t have a heart monitor so I only measure it through my pulse or my actual chest which is also very faint but it’s 84bpm even when I first got up and walked around. Yesterday after I ate I leaned back in my chair and i had very uncomfortable palpitations first one I had to stand up and take deep breaths and second time the same thing when I tried sitting back down. Never had any issues before it’s my 3-4 week on kratom never had it before. I’m 18m 6,0 150 lb

THESE ARE ALL ALLEGATIONS I HAVE NO PROOF OTHER THAN WHAT I SAW AND THE PEOPLE WHO ATTENDED THE EVENT WITH ME
I made a post last night seeking advise for these sick animals in hopes I could contact the breeder and rescue these snakes. All of his social media pertaining to his business has been deleted, probably for some time now. I have no way of reaching out to rescue these animals, so I intend on posting these allegations in hopes of protecting others from doing business with him and of course raising awareness of maltreatment of these innocent snakes.
This is based in Washington state, at the Cascadia Reptile Expo from 5.18 - 5.19. The alleged sick hognoses are being sold by Evergreen State Reptiles owned by Shane Wooldridge.
As a recap this is what I saw to the best of my memory,
Multiple adult female hognoses marked at $300-$500 or so, one snow, one arctic, and I believe 2 normals along with multiple males.
He was selling many species of snakes and maybe lizards, but I was fixed on the hognoses. At a glance the other species of snakes and male hognoses looked to be in good condition, but that's all it was; a glance. As for the sick female hognoses, I did take 3 out of the deli cups with permission to handle and examine them.
The snow female had a lage scab on her face around the jaw area, and a pustle erupting from her head that looked like a massive pimple filled with whitish yellow puss. She was shaped like a pyramid, emaciated, spine poking out along her whole body and slim neck to emphasize the jaw bones. When I lifted her up where her umbilical cord had once been attached to her body, it was split open very obviously. It was healed over with exposed skin in the center.
The breeder claims he was told not to breed her due to the deformed umbilical scar, but did so anyways and she was fine. He also claimed she recently laid and was being fed small meals which is why she was emaciated, and if fed anything larger she would regurg. He claims her scab was an injury from the water dish. He said he'd give me a discount on her for the injuries and once she shed and eaten more she'd be fine. He also offered a discount for buying multiple.
The next female I examined I believe to be an arctic, she was also emaciated with her spine poking out along her whole body. Slim neck with jaw bones protruding. I don't recall the belly looking abnormal, but she had a bulbed tail. It felt hard at the bulb but it wasn't the biggest bulbed tail I'd ever seen. The breeder claimed she just needed to be fattened up and you wouldn't be able to notice it, he also claimed she had recently laid which was she was emaciated.
The last snake I examined was a normal, over all she had a nice plump figure and looked decent from the top. However, when I picked her up she had 2 belly scales lifted completely up while the others sat flat. These 2 scales were lifted at least a couple millimeters, filled with a pocket of yellow green puss that looked like it would explode at any moment. I have a horrible sense of smell, I cannot smell almost all of the time. This snake stunk, and she was sticky too. You could smell the infection before you got to the table, my friend with a sensitive sense of smell said the area reeked.
The breeder claims she was bred and could possibly be gravid and it was a loss for him but didn't want her. After I noticed the puss filled scales he asked to be handed the snake, he felt her and said he couldn't feel eggs. He then claimed the puss filled wounds were caused by a water dish, and he needs to sand them down. I wrangled her into the deli cup and told him I'd be back.
At no point did I comment on the wounds and state of these snakes, I simply examined them and the breeder freely made these claims to me without ever being asked. As well as acting as though he had never seen the pustle or infected belly scales.
After I left I asked another vendor to use their hand sanitizer and immediately went looking for a bathroom to wash my hands. I approached another vendor and told them what I saw and they were shocked and disgusted. They pointed out event staff to report what I saw to which I did immediately. I will be following up with them to see if they saw what I did or if the snakes were no longer on the table.
When I got home I put all my clothes in the wash and took a shower. I own 8 hognoses and glove between all of them, but I'm still going to be paranoid regardless.
I feel so horrible for those poor babies, and now I'm horrified for anyone who buys from this breeder or handled his animals and possibly cross contaminates. I'm no expert so there's small things I could've missed.
Again these are all allegations, I have no proof so please use your own judgment. Sorry for the long read but his is very wrong and needs to be known. No animal deserves to be treated like this.

What will happen if he refuses care?
Sorta related to the subject but different point of view.. i am the full time caregiver of My boyfriend is 25 and a quadriplegic for the past 5 years since breaking his neck diving into a lake. We have been together almost 10 years. After the second year of him realizing he wont be gaining any function back. He’s paralyzed from the chest down, and cannot grip his hands or fingers. Hes lost a ton of weight and refuses to get out of bed. I mean he’s mean and has physically hit me when ive tried to get him to do his stretches and simple bathing. He says everything hurts and hes rather just stay in his comfortable position and watch tv and be on his phone and eat food he likes which is all horrible fast food, until he ends up dying from his injuries. I have literally cried on my knees begging him to let me at least bathe him or make sure that he is t getting bed sores and he doesn’t tell me when he’s got something wrong like a UTI or anything he says he hopes it will get him to die sooner. I am aware hes sucidal, ive asked him to talk to a therapist but hes gotten so bad now he literally cant get out of bed his knees are stiff. I have told his family parents, my family and parents im afraid of getting in trouble if he does actually die. Hes asked me to help him with suicide. Or just let him die and I’ve seriously driven myself crazy with the guilt of not being able to fix his problems because he was such a totally different person than this before. He would even say he is against suicide years ago But now hes in such bad shape, i will find pressure sores and he will literally be saying hes got nothing there but im worried he will get an infection and die. My question is not really what should i do? Ive had that conversation a million times, the reality is that he wont do anything he doesnt want to do. So im asking, if he or when he passes away, will i be in trouble like can i be held responsib What will happen if he refuses care?
Sorta related to the subject but different point of view.. i am the full time caregiver of My boyfriend is 25 and a quadriplegic for the past 5 years since breaking his neck diving into a lake. We have been together almost 10 years. After the second year of him realizing he wont be gaining any function back. He’s paralyzed from the chest down, and cannot grip his hands or fingers. Hes lost a ton of weight and refuses to get out of bed. I mean he’s mean and has physically hit me when ive tried to get him to do his stretches and simple bathing. He says everything hurts and hes rather just stay in his comfortable position and watch tv and be on his phone and eat food he likes which is all horrible fast food, until he ends up dying from his injuries. I have literally cried on my knees begging him to let me at least bathe him or make sure that he is t getting bed sores and he doesn’t tell me when he’s got something wrong like a UTI or anything he says he hopes it will get him to die sooner. I am aware hes sucidal, ive asked him to talk to a therapist but hes gotten so bad now he literally cant get out of bed his knees are stiff. I have told his family parents, my family and parents im afraid of getting in trouble if he does actually die. Hes asked me to help him with suicide. Or just let him die and I’ve seriously driven myself crazy with the guilt of not being able to fix his problems because he was such a totally different person than this before. He would even say he is against suicide years ago But now hes in such bad shape, i will find pressure sores and he will literally be saying hes got nothing there but im worried he will get an infection and die. My question is not really what should i do? Ive had that conversation a million times, the reality is that he wont do anything he doesnt want to do. So im asking, if he or when he passes away, will i be in trouble like can i be held responsible if i have told everyone I know over time what ive been dealing with this whole time with his extreme stubbornness and self sabotage like kinda so I have witnesses or people who can back me up so that im not responsible

This might be a long post so I apologize. I just have stuff I need to get off my chest.
I'm a 19 y/o FTM, 4 weeks postpartum. I love being a mom and I love my little boy, but I think I'm suffering from PPD and maybe some PPA and possibly some PPR. I was induced at 37 weeks and 5 days because I was at risk for preeclampsia with bp in the 150/100 range sometimes. I was given the little pill thing to get my cervix to dialate 3 times. I was told the pill usually doesn't make women have contractions but it made me have contractions. At some point I couldn't handle the contractions but I didn't want the epidural yet because I wanted to be able to get up if I needed to so they gave me fentanyl and it wore off in 15 minutes, so then I decided to get the epidural.
I was only less than 2cm dialated after quite a few hours when they decided I needed an emergency c-section because my baby's cord was wrapped around his neck and my contractions were causing it to compress badly. I was so drugged up during the c-section I don't even remember most of what happened, I just remember the feeling of them digging around and pressing against my bladder. Sleep deprivation in the hospital was the worst. I was in the hospital from a Friday all the way until Wednesday and I didn't sleep for more than about 2 hours the entire time.
Now that we're home, I'm not parenting alone, I have help from my husband during the day and sometimes at night, although I let him sleep during the night unless I absolutely need his sleep because he works while I'm a SAHM. I was doing online college for a little while but because of my baby I decided to take incompletes in my classes so I can go back and do all the work at a later date when I feel better. I feel like a failure as a person because I had to basically quit college because I couldn't handle the school work and a baby and I hear all these women accomplishing so many things after giving birth.
I thought I was fine at first but my husband noticed some of the signs my doctor told him to watch for like no appetite, not getting out of bed, and being way too overwhelmed too easily. I don't get hungry more than like once a week, and even when I am hungry I can't finish all my food without immediately feeling full. I have to force feed myself and drink protein shakes because the thought and act of eating nauseates me. I'm so exhausted and being awake just fills me with dread about the fact that I have no freedom to even go outside and sit on the back porch because the baby might wake up and need me. I think I resent my husband because he still gets to go places, mostly to work but its still getting out of the house, and he gets to go outside with the dogs while I'm cooped up in the house unless he's taking me somewhere because I haven't been cleared to drive yet.
Our living situation isn't the best. We're living with my FIL, SIL, SIL's BF, and my husband's nephew. FIL is great, he watches the baby when we want to shower together and recently we left the baby with him to go run some errands, although he is unwilling to change diapers. SIL, SIL's BF/Fiance, and nephew still haven't even met the baby or even tried to and we live in the same house, not that we want SIL's BF to meet him tho. I asked the nephew the other day if he wanted to meet the baby and he said "no thanks". SIL and SIL's BF are trying really hard to find a reason to evict us from the house and have been trying since I found out I was pregnant. One day I was in the laundry room doing laundry and the BF came in from the garage and hit me with the door pretty hard and didn't even apologize. We were going to move out months ago but our plans fell through due to money issues and the IRS. We currently live off WIC, Foodstamps, and Medicaid and even that isn't enough for us sometimes.
I know my husband knows what he's doing with the baby but sometimes I get really big anxiety when anyone but me deals with him. I know that he's ok, but I keep having these thoughts that something is going to happen to him if anyone but me cares for him, or that something is going to happen to him if I sleep or if I put him down to sleep, which often leads to me being overwhelmed caring for him because I stay up and let him sleep in my arms. Being in the car with the baby gives me anxiety even tho the baby loves the car and I sit next to him in the backseat to make sure he's ok. Doing anything with the baby makes me feel anxious and often overwhelmed and I feel so guilty for being overwhelmed because he doesn't mean to be a little difficult.
I think I'm also possibly suffering from unconscious postpartum rage a little bit too. I get frustrated and upset when things with the baby aren't going as I want them to go. The other night he would not stop screaming and it was overwhelming me so much I had to catch myself because I almost covered his mouth and nose to make him be quiet. I don't have any feelings of wanting to hurt the baby so me almost doing that really freaked me out. I had my husband take the baby from me and I went to the bathroom and cried. I'm scared to tell my doctors all of this because I don't want them to think I'm a bad mom to my baby and I don't want to get locked in a psych ward away from him. I had a therapist in the beginning of my pregnancy but I couldn't afford to keep going to her.

I apologize for the long rant but all the negativity is such a buzz kill and I had get a few things off my chest.
Some of you need to stop with the negativity. The nasty, denigrating comments about Boston, Wheeler, Sides, etc. has to stop.
It's game 3, not including preseason. Give the team time to get into a rhythm with Clark. The WNBA has never seen a player who plays like Clark, and that fact cannot be underestimated.
Her skill sets are unique and its a matter of finding a system where she can work within a team and still be herself. No other team in this league has ever had a player like this, or this kind of challenge. They've built winning cultures by playing a more traditional, conventional style of play.
Her teammates' challenge is to adjust to her style of playing, which is faster, more free-style than what we generally see in the WNBA, and that's why you can't take your eyes off of her, even when she misses shots.
You're expecting her teammates to suddenly become Clark clones. Her Iowa teammates were not superhuman, and it took 3, 4 years to learn how to acclimate to her style, that didn't happen overnight and they were often struggled to keep up with her, yes, even Martin.
Boston was Rookie of the Year last year. Sides is in her second year as HC. Mitchell is coming off an injury. Temi has been in practice for 2 weeks.
And Wheeler is a gem: deep-diving into old interviews, you get a sense of her character and integrity as a player and of her knowledge about the game and how to navigate on and off.
I found this quote from her after she was brought back to Indiana and being on a struggling team.
"There's always better out there but do you want to get out and see what's better or take a route that may be tough, but will make you a better person? A lot of people want it easy, a lot of people don't want to go through the bumps and bruises to get to where they want to be."
Do some of you ever consider that mentorship doesn't always show up in stats or on the court? Clark is already a phenomenal player, that comes easy to her, and its always come easy for her. Learning from someone with personal integrity, who has experienced adversity can be valuable to Clark as a human. That's what they mean by building a culture.
Stop diminishing her value to this team because she missed a few shots.
Give this coach and team a grace period to figure out how to build a team around her where she can elevate the sport. Once they find that recipe, you will be rewarded for your patience.
And doesn't want to root for an underdog team? Its so much more rewarding when it finally comes together.

Preface: I'm not a doctor, I'm not a speech therapist, and this is not medical advice. This is just what I've done to overcome my MTD and my opinions.
MTD is a name given to a large number of conditions. The architecture of our vocal instrument is very complex though, and "muscle tension" is not only a very uninformative diagnosis, but even a misdirecting one. I say this because:

• Most people don't actually know how muscles work, and will create an incorrect mental model of what's going on, which adds tension to tension.
• It encourages a view of our muscles and vocal instrument as an "external object" that is "misbehaving" and that "we need to correct and control", which, needless to say, adds more tension to tension.

I got my MTD after a single singing session in which I screamed in complete disregard of the vocal hygiene principles that I learned over two years of studies. The day after I had all the typical MTD symptoms, but I thought it was just a temporary loss of voice, like it happened before. Then one week went by. Then another. Then I tried with absolute silence, then I tried with lozenges, herbs, ibuprofen. Then I went to and ENT doctor and got a laryngoscopy, which came out clean, and got referred to a speech therapist.
The speech therapist gave me exercises and tips, she told me to talk with a confidential voice, she instructed me to keep a correct posture, she instructed me to always use abdominal breathing. She was meaning well, but all this had the effect of adding tension to my tension.
Months went by with no progress. I could speak, but not more than one day at a time. If I spoke one day, my voice would feel destroyed the day after. Speaking would become painful and effortful. Several days of silence would get my voice back almost to a normal state, but a single day of speaking would ruin all the work I'd done.
I was fortunate enough however, that all this happened after I left my job to focus on music (the irony), and so at some point I decided to find a way myself, focus entirely on my voice and get rid of this problem once for all.
My MTD lasted about 6 months. After I practiced what I'm describing in this post it subsided over the span of about 3 weeks.
I want to share my findings with you, but keep in mind that

1. I am not a doctor, I'm only sharing my experience. What you do with this is only your responsibility. If you have any doubts please consult with your doctor first.

2. MTD is actually many things, what worked for me doesn't necessarily work for you, and it may even be deetrimental.
First, some general principles I followed 1. Don't interfere with your voice outside of your exercises. Don't try to speak the right way. Leave that voice alone. 2. Only unintentional progress is real progress. I don't care about progress that is actually a result of breaking the first rule. So you can finally stop worrying about your voice when you are not exercising. 3. Progress comes after sleep, not while you practice
When you practice things will get frustrating. Your brain registers that frustration and builds new connections while you sleep. Frustration and lack of progress while you practice are a good thing, it means that you are successfully building the input that will be processed while you sleep. Give it two nights of sleep, and results will come.
Ok, so here's what I've done. It's a simple three phases plan where we keep adding stuff:
1. Fix your breathing:
This is the basis. You've heard that before, but if I ask you to do abdominal breathing I'd be asking you to do something intentionally, which breaks principle 1. The other component of the basis is a relaxed attitude, which is a difficult thing to have when you feel betrayed by your body. We need to kill these two birds with a single massive stone.
What follows is a slightly modified version of the zazen meditation technique. I'm aware it can sound boring, but this is really important and I think it's necessary to practice this every day until recovery, without exceptions. Really.
Set a timer for 25 minutes, sit comfortably, close your eyes, and let your body breathe. While you breathe, identify the point at the centre of your body, about 4 inches below your navel. I want you to notice the sensation of breathing in that point. Don't try to change your breath, just notice any sensations there. If there aren't any, just stay vigilant, 'cause there will be.
Keep paying attention to that point, and start counting the breaths 1 to 10. When you get to 10 restart from one. If you lose the count, just restart from one. If you start thinking about dinner and lose contact with the centre of your body, just bring it back into your attention field. Every time you lose attention and bring it back, your mind relaxes a bit. The more you do it, the more your attention naturally settles on the sensation of breathing at the centre of your body.
Don't try to force your attention to stay there. Let it be and bring it back only if you notice it wanders. Also, don't focus super hard, that wouldn't be relaxing at all! Chill and let your attention rest there.
Thoughts will occur. That's ok, in fact, thoughts are part of the process. Let them happen, but keep the sensations at the centre of your body in your field of attention. When you notice that you lost attention, the thought stream will naturally interrupt and your attention will go back to your centre. There is no need for you to forcefully interrupt your thought stream. It'll happen by itself when you remember about your centre.
You may feel deeply relaxed, which is great, just try not to fall asleep.
If you do this consistently, you'll be breathing diaphragmatically without even noticing, which we agreed counts as real progress.
2. Rewiring
After about one week practicing the previous step (which you must keep doing), I started humming whenever I felt tension building up around my neck, which was normally just after I spoke two sentences. I know it's counterintuitive, but it made sense for me. What we are trying to do here is breaking the association voice emission -> tension, and create a new one voice emission -> relaxation. After all, we all know that our vocal chords are perfectly fine, and those sweet vibrations have a relaxing effect on our muscles. They have it even if you experience MTD, we just don't notice it because the tension created by our condition is greater than that relaxing stimulus.
So now when you feel that tension building up do the following:

• Check your upper chest: if it's contracted, let it relax
• Bring your attention to the point below the navel, just like you've practiced every day.
• Hum at a very low volume, in a similar fashion as humming in yoga practice. Try to identify that relaxation stimulus in your body. Pay attention to the positive sensations. Hum slowly, feel your body relaxing and your breath naturally centering itself lower in your body.
• Bonus: play with the resonance of that hum and check if your pleasant sensations change.

If some relaxation comes, great, if it doesn't, that's still fine! Don't get frustrated, remember that progress comes after sleep anyway.
3. Trigger relaxation. After about a week practicing the previous step (which you must keep doing) I started working actively on muscle relaxation. The basic idea here is to trigger a chain reaction. All our muscles are connected. As we all learned, unfortunately, one muscle becoming tense leads to all the muscles around becoming tense too. Well, the opposite is also true.
Because we can interact with our tongue much more easily than with other internal muscles, we'll use that to trigger the chain reaction. Follow the instructions on this video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OorqNloxITM do it al least twice a day (in the morning and before you go to sleep) and every time you feel you need it. Pay especial attention to step where you let the tongue relax while pulling it.
From now on, stop trying to control your voice or to speak confidentially, or whatever you are doing in fear of hurting yourself. Now it's the time to let all the work express some results, so don't interfere. Do whatever comes naturally. If you naturally want to speak softly do that, if not, don't.
Keep practicing all the three steps for a few weeks and only then check whether this is working for you or not. Unless you feel you are getting hurt by this, abstain from judgement until then, otherwise you'll pay too much attention to your voice and interfere with the process.
I really hope this works for you as well as it did for me. Once again, I'm nobody, I'm not a doctor, I'm not a speech therapist, I just wanted to share this in case it's helpful to somebody, but what you do with your voice is your responsibility.

You have to believe that if you are to take anything away from this. I am not crazy. Never have been. Every great genius, I believe, says it at some point before others come to realize it for themselves. I am not crazy. All this happened, more or less.
I first saw the woman. Her eyes melted into tar, turned to smoke, and, as soot, fell on the ground as a shadow. Then came the after-effect woosh of a blade through air. Then the echo of fine steel turned tuning-fork. Somewhere along there I realized I’d forgotten to run. So I did.
A step, another step. Step and then step. After a few of those, I looked up to get a sense of what was going around. The town was burning. There came the bone-tremor of a church bell crashing down from far too high. A grain silo exploded. The seeds burst out in a cloud of smoke and then came the ignition. I pictured the grandest 4th of July I’d ever seen and imagined the fireworks, not a kilometer, but 50 yards from my face. I then realized I wasn’t imagining jack shit.
I ducked into a building as an autumn-leaf-wind of fire rushed down the street in a tidal wave. There appeared a door behind me where there had been none and then a dozen hands where there’d been maybe seven. I was dragged under the floorboards by the digging of nails then claws then teeth.
‘Say it tickles’, came a whisper by my right ear. Some old hag shouted from my left: “Lying bitch! “. “Don’t listen to her, sweetie”, replied the woman-floorboard-voice, “Say it tickles. Just trust me, they’ll let you go. I’m not her, never like her. I won’t hurt you. I wouldn’t hurt a fly” . The hag bellowed a laugh: “Lying bitch bitch bitch bitch… “.
I’d like to say I found it surprising that two shrill voices arguing was more irritating than being eaten by a house but I don’t think anyone who’s ever witnessed a proper cat-fight would believe me. Before I could take a splinter from the boards and end myself came the tickle of a feather upon my feet. It turned into rope, rope into spider web and before long I was being dragged away in the darkness.
There was this beam of light and I found myself settled down on a bed of straw. I had a moment or two to catch my breath too. I thanked the spider like so many citizens of New York before me and it gave a quick nod as it disappeared between the brick side of the house-turned barn. I almost had another moment then. But the bricks parted once again and came crashing out the boot I’d left behind. The spider web turned into a nose and then into a mouth that shouted: “Disgusting!”.
Shut the fuck up Jim. Jimbo. Whatever you call yourself. Sorry. People are loud around here before pill time and I got me a temper. I can’t just shout at some old dude so I gotta type it out. Hope you don’t mind. Back on the trakata track.
Feeling pretty ashamed, I got back on the way. Way? I know less than you do. No way. I just kept walking. The embers of the town soon started thinning around and I found myself shivering in my summer clothes. I don’t know why but I got to walking in the shade and, soon enough, I didn’t feel so cold any more.
I paused with a finger in the air and set my back against a tree. I tried my best to just take a deep breath and relax despite its bark that kept trying to give me a back-rub. I thought for a moment about, not it all, but pretty much nothing at all. And God knows those are the only times you think anything. I realized the sun was cold.
I played my fingers through the beams of light passing through the canopy and held them out over the path. A numbness settled on them in less than a minute so I pulled them back
I looked back at the town then. I saw the strange reflections the non-metal-metal roof-tiles cast back at that sun. I saw how all the buildings were sunken into the ground. I saw that I didn’t see a single window anywhere.
Finally, I saw something hanging from the cathedral’s spire, some half-kilometer high. It was frozen and a cross and on it, as with some crosses, was a man. I raised an arm and saluted myself. Then I realized I’d saluted myself. And then so did I and then I realized that I had that I had and then I realized.
At some point along those lines, I noticed that my mind had come unbound and was bouncing between my two selves. Cloudy, cloudy and cold cold cold memories were in my Jesus-self’s mind. Black holes, revelations, origins of symmetry I don’t fucking know. And somewhere, distant and distant as stars, the memory of the very moment we were living.
I saw then a man like me. He looked like you and he looked like me but somehow he did not feel the same. Always over my shoulder, looking over what I did. Always lurking at the edge, a hunger-unending. One thought, just one in its head. To be me. To be me. To be me. To come out into the light. That was the first time I met my shadow.
I didn’t cause I couldn’t but I saw it smile. Him? I don’t know if he would be mad if he heard me speaking of him like this. Him him him him. Him to the weekend. Cold fucking play man. Bio-digital jazz, man. I don’t know. I don’t know. Honestly, don’t really care. Haven’t seen him in a while. The lights in my room come from everywhere and the walls are all white so I don’t sleep which is when he finds me. I don’t care. Back to the memory.
Then I blinked and the cathedral was gone some miles away and then I blinked and it was gone all the way. I blinked. The forest had given way to jagged hills. I blinked. Still jagged hills. I blinked. Mountains to the West. I blinked. Mountains to the West. I blinked x11. Mountains to the East. Teleportation was lamer than I’d expected.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahikHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA. Sorry sorry. Don’t you also ever get the urge to just tweak the fuck out sometimes? Youre in class and you realize: “Dude, I could literally molest Ms Robinson rn before anyone had any chance to stop me”. Those thoughts are invariably dangerous but your mind thinks them anyway. Assuming that your mind likes itself, what reason can there be for their existence other than that they are good then? Anyway, excuse the digression.
So I kept doing this for a while. I don’t know if my body experienced time. No, scratch that. I know it did but I don’t know how. I had a beard grow for a few dozen eye-blinks but then it was gone. I felt a finger-nail, finger-long, scrape against my leg but a few blinks later I was missing that arm from the elbow down.
I was pretty determined to keep on doing this. I think everyone knows the feeling. When you’re a little kid and you close your eyes and you pretend to be blind for a few hours, for a little bit of fun? But then I saw the village again. I’d been going for so long that I didn’t really notice it at first but then I saw it again. And then again. I think it was my 7th time around this world that I finally got a hold of myself.
Honestly, I’d thought about this ever since I saw that scp thing. I slowly closed one eye and then another and then another. Voila! Blinking was no more. Tis but a fool’s imitation of blindness anyway. (I’ve realized similar things about sleep too).
I stepped onto the town square of cobblestone of hexagons. Inside the hexagons were triangles and between those stardust. I stared deep into those cracks and realized I was looking through. I moved back and forth and noticed the parallax of the night sky but awry. Before I knew, the floor became a wall and I was falling.
I was lucky that I had been lying down close to the ground. My chin began scraping against the stones as I fell. Then I started to spin back. I grabbed a stone but it came loose and laughed at me a toothless laugh of rock. As I spun, the sky that was a wall became a wall sky and the sky-through-floor just a floor. The gravity changed at points.
The eastern horizon blurred to a disk of sundown glow and the West a twilight lantern. I was spinning so fast I began to hear the woosh of my body cutting through air. Woosh-Woosh-Woosh-Woosh.
I felt myself pass through something. It was a neck. In my wake, I saw a woman melt into night-stuff. I tapped against my chest so my woosh became a metal clang. That finally got myself to start running. I was in a slower type of time than I was right then so I didn’t hear myself say: “Go beyond the church” but I knew I must have because I told myself and then I did, had?
Up turns to down, down to up. Life to dust and metal to rust. I understood, some time in the future that gravity in this land was a matter of taste. I must have sent back that information but time doesn’t really exist when your existence is independent from it, does it now? As I was destined, as I came to know, I had always known and just not known that I’d known. That distinction doesn’t seem legitime to me either but hey, go take it up with the authorities. God knows I tried. I calmed myself and before too long touched down ground back at the hexagon-triangle-square.
I plucked one stone and then another. At first I could only see a few stars but my eyesight grew keener and keener as the wind from across the cobblestone filled my mind. Soon enough, I could see in every stone I unplugged, a million, million stars waiting for me. High up above, I could clearly see, my soul looking back down at me. He smiled reassuringly. He took me by the hand and took me to the beginning of all time.
I saw God then. What do you do when you know everything, when you are everything? I saw then the loneliest man there ever was. All he could do, all he knew he would do would be lesser than him. No one would keep him company. I saw a good that had no reason to be. And so, he became the reason for everything. And then there was light.
I saw then the part of my soul that ran away from the brilliance of that good. That would not, could not, believe itself to be worthy of such love. A part of my soul ran away and, cast in its own shadow, became the root of all shadow-things. I watched myself become satan.
I was back at the clearing. I saw then the summer sun shining down, burning my skin. It was cold. I passed my hand in front of my eyes and saw my shadow brush its fingers against my face. I saw myself then, again. I saw a shadow touch a shadow’s hand.
Bout all I can for the day. Ever since Ethan tried to kill himself with the keyboard they’ve been little bitches about us using the computers. Of course I could tell them it was really the keyboard who started it but Ethan’s depressed so anything he does has to be about his mental condition so they won’t believe me.
But don’t worry. As I said, I am a genius. I know things no one else knows and I can prove it. Feel free to ask about your future and I’ll tell you what I’ll feel like the next time the doctors let me out of their sight. Go long on copper futures.

When I was in junior high a transfer student arrived in the middle of the semester; a kid that was different from everyone else. Right away he had caught my eye, in fact he caught everyone's attention because he had a very unique disability; he couldn’t speak. I guess you could say he was deaf, though it was clear to me after getting to know him that he could in fact hear; every word spoken to him was understood with simple nods or gestures; facial expressions contorting into understood language; so I guess he was mute; yeah, that would describe him best. He was an oddity to most but to me he was a unicorn, something that sparkled in our dim monotonous lives and it wasn’t until he revealed who he was did I become terrified of him and his shine.
I was in 7th grade maneuvering my way through the jungle of middle school, avoiding trouble and premature violence. I was an undersized boy for my age, no more than 5ft tall; puberty had yet to visit me leaving me left out of the herd; the other students or the ‘sheep’ as I called them that infested my school. They were all the same, kids that were driven by hormones constantly talking about boys or girls, their deep voices riding on the coattails of the wind that breezed in and out of our hallways. I was a mere shadow, always walking a few paces behind the others not wanting to be seen or acknowledged; I saw what others that looked like me went through, they were tortured and abused for simply existing.
Once Bryce Ellis and his friends stuck Timmy Easton’s face in the shitter for over 10 flushes, I was in a stall over, hiding and waiting for the torment to be over. I slithered my feet up on to the stall caressing them to my chest as I sat in a fetal position horrified of how one human could treat another. Eventually the bullies had gotten bored, their short attention span driven minds directed them to another endeavor leaving Timmy to fester in his tears and possible filth.
He sobbed for minutes that felt like hours as I remained silent in the stall over, I placed my hand cautiously on the barrier wall trying to absorb a bit of his pain, my heart ached for him in that moment and I wanted to lend him a compassionate hand if only I had the courage to do so. So yeah, I did my best to stay hidden, unseen to all the dwellers that mindlessly walked in and out of our school on a daily basis, the boys that believed themselves to be men or the girls that pontificated to anyone that listened. I was lost into an enteral sea of vindictive young adults that searched for any reason to lash out at anyone that stood in their way.
So when ‘Tape boy’ — as they would eventually call him — came to my little middle school that stood still in the secluded hills of our small town I was enthralled almost immediately with his existence. He was introduced to my home room class, I sat in the back burying my head into my arms, occasionally lifting my head to listen on the days lecture. My day dreams entertaining me as the clock slowly ticked away at our lives and it wasn’t until my teacher promptly stopped talking did it trigger a primal emotion in me to sit up and pay attention. I postured myself up straight, pausing the internal movie that played in my mind to see what the interruption was about.
There he was, a new boy that no one had ever seen before, by middle school everyone knew each other; we had went to the same elementary school, the same holiday events and grocery stores. So getting a new student was like getting a new flavor at Baskin Robbins; a mystery taste simmering on the tip of your tongue as you digested every drop, his presence was intriguing. He wasn’t small like me, I would say average height for a 12 year old; about 5'4, slender body with unkempt dark black hair. He looked timid, his head tilted towards the ground not wanting to accidentally lock eyes with any of us as the teacher introduced him, my mind wandering with such intrigue because to all of our astonishment he was wearing a surgical face mask — mind you this was in the 90’s; eons before the Covid pandemic breached the windows of our thoughts.
Right away I could hear the murmurs, the questions erupting throughout the classroom as everyone pondered of why this boy sheltered his face. I stared on for what must of been minutes as the shy boy kept his gaze down, I could see him slightly squeezing the arm straps to his backpack nervously the longer he stood there on full display for all.
I had my fill and I relaxed my postured sinking back into my chair directing my stare out the window but then Billy Sherman asked the question we all had on our minds,
“Uhm, why is he wearing that mask?”.
Our teacher explained to us that it was because of some weaken immune system, something about how his ticker didn’t click like the rest of ours, she then also told us about him being mute. This drew my eyes right back to him, I think it did for all of us and for a moment the quiet kid raised his head and locked eyes with me. His dark black eyes glistened with despair, the deep purple bags that sagged under his eyes were more indicative of someone that hadn’t slept in days. I felt something for him in that moment, our third eye conversing in some cosmic dialogue and as quickly as he rose his head did it drop once again towards the ground. I could still hear all the the other kids snickering, questioning and some even giggling; it made me sick, if I was a braver boy I would of stood on top of my desk and verbally lashed out to all the sheep, instead I rose my hand asking something Mrs. Willis never said, what was the timid boys name?
“Oh I’m sorry, how rude of me, this is Gabriel”.
She sat Gabriel upfront next to her desk, wanting him close in case he needed to write or sign something to her and just like that everyone went back to their simple lives; including myself.
The next few weeks I saw little of Gabriel other than the back of his head during class, once the bell rang everyone that my eyes glimpsed at for the day disappeared or just maybe it was me who dissolved into the ambience of our school. Either way I saw little of the boy who wore a mask, the one that sheltered his true identity and my curiosity with the new flavor of the week gradually faded into the abyss of non-existence; well, that was until the day I saw the mask slip.
It was end of the day, I spent most of the time turning corners anytime Bryce Ellis approached; evading the wrath of him and his band of merry men who were the pinnacle of human torture; finding any opportunity to demean those who crossed their path. I remember leaving Chemistry class, my mind all to occupied with leaving the hell hole of every kids dread and that’s when I saw Gabriel walking down the hall towards the cafeteria; his head still tilted down; his gaze tracking every step he took; face mask still tightly fitted around his face.
This time I saw someone was following him, it was Tom Ingram one of Bryce’s guys, a kid that tried to be the “alpha male” of the group numerous times, doing his best to dethrone the reign of Bryce. He was a big boy for his age, probably about 5'9 and easily weighed 200 pounds, he was a wild card alright; he got caught pouring sugar down Mr. Whitakers old Pontiac gas tank for giving him a poor grade. So when I saw him berating poor Gabriel; taunting him as grotesque laughter followed every insult, I felt like I had to do something and my consistent stealth veneer of camouflage morphed into into a full on sprint towards the two. I saw Tom was closing in on him, other kids looking on with bewilderment on their faces — not knowing if they should laugh out of fear or grimace from disgust. For the first time in a long while did a burning sensation of courage ignite in my soul, I was tired of seeing monsters preying on the sheep and I was going to stop it somehow.
Finally Gabriel had stopped walking and stood still, his head hanging even lower than before, the strands of his long hair covered the remainder of his face. Tom began slapping the top side of the poor kids head, yelling out obscenities, angered that he didn’t stop sooner. I was close, I was gonna stop this since all anyone else could do is cower in fear while looking on and then it happened causing me to stop dead in my tracks, my eyes widening with befuddlement. Tom had torn away the mask from Gabriel's face, awes with groans came from everyone then silence blanketed the entire school and for those few seconds our existence had been swallowed up by the earth itself.
“What the hell” Tom yelped out breaking the still but heavy disquietude.
I wanted to say something, but no words could be manifested only gurgles as I choked on my own disbelief. The timid boy under the mask of intrigue had a strip of black duct tape covering his mouth, it stretching from the side of his face to the other almost resembling what would be some hideous smile. The timid boy then collapsed his hands over his face as faint muffles of sobbing protruded from him, he ran into the nearest restroom only for Tom to pursue. Finally my thoughts had been gathered while my body came back to life, I brushed off the bizarre occurrence of that grizzly smile and I reminded myself of what was about to happen. Tom was going to punish Gabriel for simply existing as he and his gang have been doing for years and like some old factory machine the cogs of my body set into motion as I ran towards the restroom.
Before I could open the door the most horrid scream exploded outwards into the hallway, the sound sending a cold shiver down my spine and Tom came running out of the restroom gripping at his face crying. He was hysterical running and bumping into the walls until finally crumbling onto the floor only to continue sobbing. My mind was clouded with a whirl wind of confusion, I no longer knew what to do, I mean I was going to run in there and stop the assault but now the assaulter was on the floor destroyed. Then Gabriel calmly came out of the restroom, his mask firmly back on and he turned to look at me, his dark eyes burning an image of anguish into my mind. I asked if he was okay of course he said nothing though, he didn’t need to I could just sense his response and it was one of gratitude. I almost could see him smiling at me from underneath the mask and I reminded myself of what was under it; that abysmal duct tape that looked like a sinister grin.
From that day on most of the kids were afraid of Gabriel, I could see the look of terror in their eyes anytime he passed by them even though his headed was still shifted downwards but that’s the day whenever someone mentioned him they referred to him as “Tape boy”. I had heard through the whispers of our school that Tom had suffered some mental breakdown, that the doctors couldn’t find anything psychically wrong with him, it was as if his mind had shattered. He remained in some mental hospital, memories of him gradually fading and the sheep went on with living their mundane lives. Bryce even slowed his bullying, I think he knew that their were now more eyes watching everyone after the altercation and he didn’t want to get caught in some bad situation, though I could see he was itching to get at Gabriel. I went back to being a shadow, avoiding all the others still not too confident that the days of torture were over.
Even though Gabriel was regarded as some magical or perhaps malevolent being by most; not sure which one; he still appeared to be sad; lonely, his head always dragging with despondency. I made an effort in getting to know him, I wasn’t afraid like the rest of them something about the day we locked eyes gave me the resolve to understand he wouldn’t hurt me. I approached him during lunch break, he was outside sitting underneath a tree, the shade showering him a gloom of haze. I think I surprised him or maybe it was just my stealth nature but I saw him jump when I sat next to him. I began talking about the origins of Darth Vader, of how he was originally a hero using his force power for good only to eventually turn to the dark side.
Gabriel just looked at me confounded of why I was even talking to him, his stare looking on with indifference. I told him that he was like a super hero, doing whatever he did to Tom was just like a super power, that I was thankful. His gazed then returned back to the floor almost out of shame, I guess whatever he did that day he didn’t see it as something special, or something to praise. I then told him that I still envied his ability to defend himself, that having such an ability was better than winning the school lottery — which was a week supply of free cafeteria food. I kept blabbering on for the remainder of the break while he still postured his stare towards the floor until the bell had finally rung. Before getting up I told him that if I could have a super power mine would be invisibility that’s when he turned to me pulling out a small spiral from his back pack writing something down, he then showed me.
“Why?” it read.
I told him that I didn’t like being seen, that if I could I would melt away into the noise, then life would be better he just stared at me with what I could assume was disbelief. He didn’t write anything back, he just remain seated while I stood to my feet. I asked if he was coming back to class but he ignored me and just stared out into space presumably lost in his own thoughts.
For the next several months I would catch Gabriel in the hallways, talk to him about the latest edition of whatever comic I was reading, Superman being my favorite and I would go on and on about how his true super power wasn’t strength but hope. I think he became more comfortable with me, pulling out his spiral notebook to write down his thoughts; his questions and answers — a new gateway of communication had formed between us. Most times I could tell what he was going to write by looking at his eyes, those dark haunting eyes, he was a mysterious book slowly being revealed to me and I was completely beguiled by his friendship. Bryce and his little posse slowly went back to bullying the sheep, though they kept their distance from Gabriel and me.
I guess I had a new protector one that wouldn’t be crossed and something about that protection left me feeling proud. I knew in my heart that the timid kid that now went by “Tape boy” wouldn’t hurt a fly that maybe the day of Tom going crazy was all by chance, perhaps his rage snapped his mind. I tried asking him about that day numerous times but he never explained what happened he would redirect the conversation back to super hero’s. I would walk home with him on certain days, well, more like he would walk me home I never got to see where he lived, he was too reserved to give up that kind of information but the days we would walk together was always fun. I finally felt like I belonged, the longing emotion of needing acceptance was found by his friendship.
One day when I was walking home by myself I decided to stop in at the gas station to pick up a drink and scour the latest edition of comic books in the small rack of magazines. Before entering the store I could hear arguing voices engaging in combative dialogue and it became vividly clear that it was more of a yelling match than conversation. It was coming from the side of the building, most times I would just ignore it but one of the voices sounded all too familiar and I crept slowly to the edge of the building poking my head out to get a glimpse of the disturbance. It was Bryce, his back was up against the wall while someone who I presumed was his father berated him with such a vicious snarl on his face. The angry man kept slapping Bryce across the face anytime he tried to say something and soon tears began drizzling off the face of the mighty bully only for the man to laugh.
I didn’t know why the older man was treating Bryce the way he was, information cut out of my understanding, for all I know it could of been because of something the bully did at school. I found it to be poetic justice that the boy that caused so much heart ache suffered the same amount only at home. It felt like a cliche, the angry kid was angry because of the angry father; a cruel loop of never ending proportions. Eventually the man or father walked away getting back into his car leaving the bully to brush away the tears from his face. I cautiously retreated my head away deciding to ditch the store completely when that same broken voice only minutes ago shouted out to me with a hefty dominance.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bryce howled out.
I didn’t bother turning around, I just ran home, dodging into alley ways trying my best to not been seen. It didn’t appear as if he was following, but seeing him in such a vulnerable state was bemusing. We were a small town how could I not know who the man was, we all knew each other since we were small and then it hit me; Bryce’s dad had left when he was little. This man must of been his step dad or perhaps mom’s boyfriend, it didn’t matter I was going to mind my own business, I was going to slither back into the shadows; but my attempts would only fall on defeated shoulders.
I didn’t want to tell anyone of what I saw, I hoped that keeping my mouth shut would of been enough for the bully to leave me be. Unfortunately there is no reasoning when it comes to human beings, we base our actions on emotions, our anger and Bryce confronted me the next morning in front of Gabriel.
“Hey fairy, did you enjoy the show?” the angry kid spouted out at me.
I tried explaining to him that I wasn’t trying to intrude, that the arguing concerned me, that I didn’t like seeing him being mistreated and then he punched me right in the gut. I fell to the floor gripping at my stomach, the pain slicing through every fiber of my body. I tried catching my breath but inhaling was too painful and I sheltered my face expecting another punch but the bully walked off leaving me to sweat. Gabriel kneel down to me taking out his spiral notebook writing the obvious question, I gestured to him to give me a moment and I honestly felt like crying. I had spent years doing my best to blend into the background, the invisibility power I was so desperate to have amongst the sheep was now gone; I was on Bryce’s radar.
For the remainder of the school year I tried avoiding the bullies, the monsters that preyed on the sheep but their leader would actively search for me, he was no longer intimidated by Gabriel; his once menacing allure had dwindled and now we both were sitting ducks. Luckily there was only a few weeks left until summer break and I only had hoped that the time off would be enough for the monster of monsters to cool off.
Entering summer was a relief much needed for my sanity, I took a few thrashings but it was over, me and Gabriel had big plans on spending time together. He wasn’t an out door kind of kid, he usually would just come over my place and we would read my comic books. He quickly grew enchanted with the idea of super hero's, their powers restoring balance to the nature of our world. I enjoyed every minute of it, my parents on the other hand looked less jovial to our friendship, they didn’t like the mask; it worried them. They thought that whatever illness he had could be passed on to me, but they didn’t do anything to stop us from seeing each other, they only silently protested.
So after awhile we decided to meet somewhere outdoors, away from my parents judgmental stares, there was a creek close to my house, the trees giving us enough shade to stay cool on those long summer days. The small stream that flowed through the trenches of the creek enriched our view as we would find the perfect rock to perch on while reading our comics. We didn’t see much of any of the other classmates that summer, the sheep kept their distance or maybe it was just us, but the days seem to pass quickly and before we knew it summer was coming to an end. I couldn’t remember how many volumes we must of read but Gabriel was now a fan of almost every super hero. He tend to raise out his arms while walking, mimicking the premise of flying like Superman; his ponderous eyes cutting through the brush as we escaped our secluded summer spot.
It was on the final day of our summer break did I pressure the shy timid boy to explain to me what had happen that day, the day Tom lost his marbles, I needed to know. Gabriel as always tried redirecting the conversation, holding up a comic of Batman, pointing at some dialogue. I got upset, I raised my voice telling him that if we were friends then he should tell me, that there wasn’t secrets between us. His heavy eyes collapsing to the ground, shifting his posture on the rock that we both sat on.
“Look, I just need to know, you’re my best friend” I told him with genuine longing.
The school year was about to start up again and I could already envision a future of slithering through the hallways how I have always done, but with Gabriel maybe that could change. I needed to know and I was done guessing, fantasizing that he was some super hero or at least my hero; my protector. I stood up off the rock walking over to the stream, the sound of water colliding unto the small stones that infested the trench triggered something awful in my gut. I took a deep breath and made my final stand with my best friend.
“If you don’t want to tell me then I’m going home, see ya” I said with impatience dripping off of my words.
Gabriel ignored my warning and continued pointing at the comic book, that’s when I noticed what he was pointing at, it wasn’t dialogue it was one of Batman's villains — he was pointing at Clayface. This made me stop, my minding halting after speeding at 100 miles per hour; it crashing my thoughts.
“Yeah, what about Clayface?” I curiously asked with a withered and tired voice.
That’s when his pointer finger was no longer on the page but rather it was pointed towards his mouth; the mouth that was hidden behind his mask. He could see my face drop with sadness, whatever disfigurement he had underneath that horrid black duct tape must of been something like the villain from the comic and my heart broke for him. Gabriel’s eyes gleaming with absolute sorrow, the boy that only wanted to be left alone, the person all the others feared just wanted solitude and here I was badgering him to no end about something so insignificant. We stared at each other for several seconds, our eyes meeting in some altered state and I reached my hand up to his face tenderly taking off his mask. There it was, the black duct tape that resembled a grin, a nightmarish one that could only been seen in some horror movie. I then placed my fingers on the edge of the tape, my cold grip causing him to shiver and I slowly began to remove it.
“What the hell are you fairy’s doing?” a voice called out from the brush, one that sank my heart into my stomach.
I turned trying to locate the voice and sure enough there he was, the bully that had tortured so many for so many years — it was Bryce. His body slowly revealing itself from the brush like some despicable ooze frothing from the depths of hell. Though, something about him was different, his cold stare no longer fictitious but more intimidating and as his body fully emerged did I see the blood trickling down his soaked stain shirt. He was covered in the crimson fluid, there was even some on his cheeks almost as he had some open wound and smeared the remnants of it on his face. The devilish grin that bestowed his bruised and beaten face quickly led me to a conclusion; one that I wish I didn’t conclude. A purplish black infested the out layer of his left eye, it practically closed shut and his nose had been bent to a unsightly angle. I started to whimper as my lips trembled from fright because this Bryce was not the same one that had given us wedgies or swirlies this one was a true monster, a beast that devoured souls. His gaze was enough to display a vacancy of any humanity and my eyes crawled down his arm into his hand to see the black pistol that he firmly gripped.
“Uh, Bryce what happened? Are you okay?” I groaned out while sniffling.
He didn’t answer, he just kept grinning at me, the ghastly smile that stretched ear from ear plagued my vision and I knew that he had done it, that he had hurt someone badly. I was terrified and in the moment I had completely forgotten about Gabriel, my tunnel vision only focused on that firearm.
“Where the hell did the other one go?” the monster asked, I turned and realized Gabriel in fact had run away leaving me behind.
I wanted to run, I wanted to flee while screaming but horror kept me in place and I felt like some dear trapped in headlights contemplating my entire life in mere seconds.
“Everyone always messes with me!” Bryce yelled out with such ferociousness.
There was no talking my way out of this one, no pleading, I knew in that moment he was going to kill me; his rage over flowing to the point of lunacy. He quickly pounced dropping me to the floor, screaming with madness and he repeatedly hit me over the head with the but of the gun causing me to see stars. His words became incoherent sounding like muffled tones that slushed it’s way into my hearing, I shook my head trying to collect myself, just maybe I could figure a way out of this but as soon as my vision corrected itself Bryce would strike me another time causing it to blur once again. I fell into a darkness, my world collapsing into an eternal void of loneliness as my body began to float effortlessly but as soon as I thought this was my final moments flashes of Gabriel flooded into my mind awakening me out of whatever slumber I found myself in. That’s when I realized Bryce was no longer hitting me, instead he was talking to someone and as I grabbed at my head trying to steady my balance I saw it was Gabriel standing still head as always tilted downwards.
Bryce confronted him pointing his 9mm directly at his head yelling, screaming at the top of his lungs but my best friend remained unmoved, just quiet and then he slowly removed his mask. This caused Bryce to pause, his tone weaken and I think for the first time he digested if he should proceed doing what he was doing.
“What are you doing freak?” the bully yelped out.
Gabriel remained quiet, eyes still directed towards the floor, his breathing escalating; I could see his chest pump more vigorously with each passing second. With the mask off me and Bryce could see the bewildering black duct tape strapped to his face, Gabriel’s face began to tremble violently as if he was trying to yell through the bondage. He then finally began to peel of the thick layer of black duct tape and it came off with a wicked screech as I could see my friends eyes squint with pain.
Bryce was no longer pointing the gun at Gabriel, no longer was he even saying a word his arm lowered to his side and both him and I stared on with amazement. What was under the tape was layers of skin, twisting and binding to each other like some thriving organism living it’s own life on Gabriel's face. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t say anything I was in shock and my head still throb from pain. Then Gabriel's mouth — if you want to call it that — began to stretch open, he tilted his head backwards while the mountain of dead flesh started to drip down his face allowing some endless void to open up inside of him. I could hear the cracking of bones breaking, his jaw shifting to accommodate the massive hole that was now his mouth and then horrid dwindling fingers began to protrude from the darkness.
My mouth gaped open with trepidation and if I had the ability to adjust my head I would think Bryce had the same facial expression. Then a grotesque head forced it’s way out of my friends mouth revealing a face that could only exist in the realms of the dead, this new creature having two large almond shape eyes; eyes that looked very similar to the ones that were attached to my friend. This ‘thing’ then stared at Bryce, that’s all it did, no words were spoken no violence was created it just stared at him and soon the bully grasped at his face and began to yell. He ran frantically in different directions, his gun firing out into the tree line, I jumped for cover; falling to the floor sheltering my head with my arms. Bryce’s terrified screams caused my stomach to turn and soon those dire cries stopped along with the gunshots.
I must of stayed on the floor for what felt like hours, too scared to rise to my feet and through my peripheral did I see the sun begin to set plunging the small creak into darkness. I eventually mustered up enough courage to get up and I looked around, Bryce was mere feet away from me, he lay still on the floor blood spewing out of his head; it appeared as if had shot himself. I walked over to his body befuddled of what to do I then remembered Gabriel, I turned to look for him but he was gone it was only me and Bryce's dead corpse. I ran home telling my parents about everything, of the encounter I experienced, at first it seemed as if they didn’t believe me but they still phoned for the police.
I led them to the creek to the bullies dead body, I initially thought perhaps they would blame me, connect me to his death but the police believed me; well the believed me about Bryce but not about Gabriel. They told me that Bryce had killed his step father, apparently they had gotten into some altercation and afterwards he went into his mothers bedroom and shot her to death. They told me that the once bully was a disturbed individual, suffering abuse for many years; that I was lucky to escape from his wrath. I told them that they needed to find my friend I wanted to know if he was okay, but all the officers could do was pat my back with sympathy trying to relax me.
It has almost been 30 years since the event, I still have nightmares of what had happened, I see the dead stare Bryce had while pointing his pistol at me, I see him repeatedly hitting me over the head again and again. Though, what still haunts me more is Gabriel's mouth contorting into that horrid shape revealing the creature that lived inside of him. He was never found, I’m pretty sure he moved on to another city, another place where bullies like Bryce tormented their schools and I could only imagine Gabriel was there to balance the wrongs of the world. I am scared of my best friend, but I know at the same time he is my protector; my super hero, he is out there doing good, I can feel it and I hope he can sense my love for him. Maybe we will never meet again, perhaps it’s not written in the stars for us to reunite but one thing is for sure, I get comic books mailed to me randomly every month; most are of Superman and I know exactly who they are from.

My whole life I have felt weird whenever I see a bug that flys. It could be a butterfly, a bee, a cicada, stink bug, or a house fly. Anything. I’m 31 and it’s still happening in full-force. When I see them, one of my eyes start to water and gets itchy. I also realize that I am breaking out in goose bumps (chill bumps). I don’t start to panic in the sense of not being able to breathe, but I have those other reactions. Recently, I’ve realized it happens when I even think about bugs that fly. I was talking to my sister about the 17-year cicadas that have come to my part of the country and my left eye was watering & itching and I had HUGE goose bumps all over my legs. I try to avoid them at all costs, but I know that’s impossible.
I’m curious if anyone else has this? I don’t know if it’s a full-on phobia. But I’m curious to hear about others’ experiences.

Hey Reddit or tiktok I honestly don’t care if this spreads I need advice and validation.
No keep things anonymous I will be using fake names,
Noah my cousin has been dating Anthony for the past year, and Anthony is in the Air force and is stationed in Germany and is planning to come back and marry my cousin next year. But here’s the thing I’ve been sick of Noah’s dumb ass, stupid ass, fuckery that I’ve witnessed because he says that Anthony and him have worked it out but now it’s gotten to far!
My other cousin Violet had a graduation party and it was fun, until Noah invited this guy called Ethan. Now Noah and Ethan were upstairs the house alone for a while during the party for 30 mins. I checked up on them and they were alone a lot. My cousin’s Noah excuse was “ I invited Ethan because he knows how to do drag and I am surprising Violet with a drag show.”
And to be quite fucking honest, the makeup wasn’t even that god damn good, and it took them 2 HOURS! TWO FUCKING HOURS! Other girls were going up and down the levels to help with the makeup after the 1st hour. But whenever I even went upstairs to check. Ethan would hold onto Noah’s waist and would blow on his neck for makeup to dry. This dude was so close to my cousins neck like it was Edward was to Bella! Like WTF
My cousin Violet, girl of the party was concerned why Noah was alone with Ethan for so long and pulled me aside to get something off her chest, we get to the bathroom and she confessed that earlier when setting up the party, Noah and Ethan were in the house. Noah confessed to Violet that he and Ethan were on the bed and things happened and they made out!
I was fucking livid, thankfully my boyfriend was there to calm me down, I didn’t want to ruin Violets day of her collage Graduation in front of her friends. So I didn’t say much. But the drag show went on and it was fun, but still, seriously, 2 hours for makeup that looked like it would take 30mins!
And mind you other guest were actually suspecting how they were close. Also since people were drinking people were staying over the house. So NOAH AND ETHAN SLEEP IN THE BASEMENT ALONE!!!!
Yes alone! Also Noah met Ethan on Grinder so that makes things worse. I face time the girl cousins confessing how I’m sick of Noah’s shit and I don’t care if it ruins my relationship with him and if I do something it’s not against h them, and they agreed. But I told them how Noah during the first few months of dating Anthony, Noah would go to his ex’s work and ask in person if they could play overwatch, while in the side lines his actual bf would ask to play games! Noah gas also go to his ex’s job to just “hang out” and eat while his own bf was overseas in the Air Force. This guy, his ex then bought my cousin a 400, yes 400 tv just because . Months later his ex has the confidence to ask my cousin to leave his bf for him…. I told time he should block him and never should’ve done this in the first place, because what his ex did was disrespectful and honestly noah was cheating to, but noah said that he still wanted to be friends and a clear boundary to not hate on who he decides to be friends with even if they are exes…
But here’s what happens if I become the asshole. Violet doesn’t want to be involved but she’s the only person that Noah told that he made out with Ethan. She doesn’t want me to use her name, but obviously it would all lead back to Violet. My Boyfriend said if I say something I technically throw violet under the bus and ruin all of these relationships and friendships.
But Anthony needs to know what my cousin has done. He has done more. And I wish I could type more but I will in comments.
So WIBTA if I tell my cousins bf that my cousin cheated on him
TLDR: my stupid ass cousin admitted to my other cousin that he made out with a guy he invited to a party and I want to tell his bf he cheated. There’s more my cousin has done and I’m fine ruining this relationship. I actually want them to breakup .

I went to my dad's place for the weekend and I was just eating whatever he made and he made a dish with pork neck fillets and I think I accidentally had too much because it was really good... now I feel guilty because apparently pork has a lot of pufas, is that going to cause any damage or will it be okay as long as I keep my next days more low on pufa (say if I don't eat eggs for a few days?)

Hi gainers,
I have just finished running Super Squats by Randall J. Strossen and wanted to share my results. There are plenty of discussions of this program out there already, but I figured sharing my experience with the program can't hurt and can hopefully be interesting, or maybe even useful to someone. This was my first time running a "proper" program (i.e. one designed by a prefessional) and it has been by far the most productive training block I have done so far. Since I am a beginner, I'm not calling this a review (I don't have the training experience to offer any kind of expert opinion). This post is meant rather to show my results as a beginner on the program and to share some of my thoughts about it.
[Before, 82kgs, 10 April 2024](https://imgur.com/a/super-squats-before-82kg-10-04-2024-PvPBvIl). NSFW. Pics taken the day after the first workout.
[After, 86kgs, 18 May 2024](https://imgur.com/a/loPa07y). NSFW. Pics taken the day after the last workout.
Background:
M30, 6'2", no athletic background. Typical denizen of this sub in that I could always eat loads and not put on weight blah blah blah. Worked out in my teens with weights in my room but never maintained a consistent schedule long enough to see significant results. Fast forward to 2 years ago when I started doing bodyweight workouts at home and making an effort to gain weight. Had some success and then started going to the gym at the start of this year. Did a 4 day/week UppeLower split with some success. My weight had fluctuated between a very skinny 67kgs to around 73kgs throughout my twenties. Prior to running Super Squats I had already bulked from 74kgs at the start of December to 82kgs at the start of April (I started taking creatine in January which definitely contributed to this weight gain).
The Program:
Super Squats is a book, which is short (less than 100 pages) and contains everything you need to run the program. Although the book was written in 1989, the routine it outlines is based on old-school squatting programs utilized by strongmen from the 1920s onwards. A chapter is devoted to this history of squats, the "master exercise". There are a couple of anachronisms (my favourite is referring to the hamstrings as "thigh biceps") but overall it is well-written and presented.
The program itself is a six week full-body routine, with the choice to run it 2 or 3 days per week. I won't spell out the whole program here (just buy the book), but the core of the routine is, of course, a single set of twenty heavy squats, with the trainee taking at least three deep breaths between each rep. The squats are supersetted with a set of light pullovers or Rader chest pulls to stretch the rib cage. The starting weight for the squats is a weight you can do for 10 reps (and yes, you really do twenty reps with that weight) and the program stipulates that you must add at least 5lbs/2.5kgs every single workout. The program is fairly light on volume (especially if you run it 2 days per week like I did) but what it lacks in volume, it more than makes up in intensity.
There is no way around it: heavy, high-rep squats are deeply, profoundly, brutally unpleasant. There is no stipulation for rep cadence or how long the set should take, you can take as long as you like, but completing 20 reps with good form will require having the bar on your back for at least 3-4 minutes. From week 2 onwards, the single set of squats always took me more than 5 minutes (and it always felt much longer).
Performing warm-up sets slowly and deliberately was crucially important. Before I even got to the warm-up sets I performed a few reps of touchdown-squats on a box, and a few more of goblet squats with a light kettlebell, opening my hips against a resistance band to prime my glutes and quads.
Super Squats is the embodiment of "mind over matter". The book has a whole section on mindset and positive visualization to help trainees to manage the seemingly impossible task of squatting a 10-rep weight for 20 reps. It sounds stupid, but by the second half of the program, I had gotten into a ritual of giving the bar a firm slap, as a jockey would slap his racehorse, before I started the set, cementing my effort to view the bar not as an enemy to overcome but as a friend helping me to achieve my goals.
Reps 11 and 12 were usually the hardest. By the time I got to ten reps my legs were already trembling. My whole body was drenched in sweat, the weight of the bar impossibly heavy resting on my traps, crushing my whole body into the ground. Time had slowed to a crawl, and the thought that I was only half way would be enough to sap my resolve if I let it. Once I got to rep 13, comfortably more than halfway, I no longer had to think about breathing. I was sucking in great lungfuls of air automatically and heaving them out so hard I sprayed the mirror in front of me with droplets of spit (yes, of course I wiped it down afterwards). Once I got to rep 17 I knew I had the set in the bag. No matter how tortuous those last three reps, no matter how long they took, no matter how many heaving breaths I had to take, I could do 3 more reps.
During week 2 I had what I think is the closest I've ever had to an out-of-body experience. It was as if I was watching someone else perform the agonizing reps while I talked myself through the rest of the set: "Breathe, good, deeper, you've got this, next rep, nice. Keep going".
Breathing is the key. The book talks at length about the importance of deep breathing throughout the set. Pretty quickly, I found that deep breathing was the only way to keep from passing out or collapsing mid set, though as I said, deep breathing becomes automatic about halfway through the set (there's simply no other way to stay upright with the weight on your back). A very helpful tip from the book is to suck in an extra gulp of air on top of your already full lungs for each of the last reps.
If all this sounds a bit exaggerated, try the program and see for yourself. But I'm not trying to put anyone off with this description, quite the opposite! The great thing about Super Squats is that the difficulty of the squats is directly proportional to the feeling of giddy elation upon completing the set. I always felt great after the set, and rode the feeling of accomplishment for the rest of the day. The program really pushes you beyond the boundaries of what you think you can do.
My Progress:
I started the squats at quite a low weight of just 40kg. The book recommends erring on the side of starting too light, and then adding more weight if needed, so that is what I did. Remember, the program stipulates a minimum increase of 5lbs/2.5kgs per workout, but there's nothing saying you can't add more. Once I realized the weight was too light (I managed 21 reps for the first workout) I simply increased the weight by 10kgs on the second workout and continued with the 2.5kg increases from there.
Before starting Super Squats I had had a two week break from training due to illness, so I started with too-low weights (I exceeded the target rep range on all exercises). So I increased the weight by 5-10kgs depending on the exercise for the second workout. The program has varying set numbers and rep ranges for different exercises. As a general rule, I increased the weight once I could hit the target rep range for the first two sets of each exercise, but I did not stick to this rule every workout.
The only thing I stuck to was the minimum increase of 2.5kgs for the squats every workout. I managed this consistently until the final week, when I failed on the eccentric of the tenth rep with a weight of 77.5kgs (a 5kg increase on the previous workout). My legs just gave way and I could not get back up. I did two more sets to make sure that I at least performed more total reps than the previous workout. Then, in the last workout, I amazed myself by succesfully performing all 20 reps with the same weight. Definitely the hardest set I have ever done, and I was completely finished afterwards, but the highlight of the program for sure.
Other ups and downs: I lost reps on Bench and Bent-over Rows on both workouts of week five, but got them back in week six and set new PRs on both. A good reminder that progress is rarely linear. My left knee started hurting in the last week, but thankfully the pain hasn't persisted. I guess my form might have broken down a bit too much in one of the last workouts.
Diet:
The book's diet advice is very simple: lots of calories and protein, with the majority coming from healthy whole food sources. Nothing surprising there. The book has two recommendations in addition to meals for achieving these goals: milk and shakes. The book doesn't use the GOMAD acronym, but that's basically what it boils down to: a recommended minimum of 2 quarts (about 2 litres) per day in addition to meals and snacks, with a recommendation to increase to up to a gallon (nearly 4 litres) per day if you can.
I was somewhat surprised to see that the book recommends home-made mass gainer shakes for trainees who struggle to eat enough solid food (the book refers to them as "blender bombs" which I think sounds much cooler).
I am not vegetarian, but I don't eat meat very often. I live with my fiancee, who doesn't like meat, and since we eat dinner, the main meal of the day, together, we eat a lot of plant-based meat substitutes. I did, however, eat meat more often than usual during the program. My typical diet looks something like this:
Breakfast: Usually muesli, with seeds, fruit (apple or banana), yoghurt, and a scoop of unflavoured whey protein.
Lunch: Usually eggs, fried or scrambled in butter, served with wilted spinach on wholemeal toast or with pasta and pesto. If not eggs then leftovers from last night's dinner. My local supermarkets do a rangle of reasonably healthy frozen meals and during the program I ate these a couple of times per week, always going for chicken dishes with plenty of vegetables.
Dinner: Something based around the aforementioned meat substitutes. Favourites include spaghetti bolognese (with plenty of cheese of course), chili with black beans, sour cream and guacomole served with rice, and burgers with fries for a "junk"/"dirty" option.
I don't count calories but I do roughly track protein, aiming for 2g per kg bodyweight and topping up with whey protein as needed.
During Super Squats, I upped my creatine dosage from 3.5g/day to 5g/day, added extra snacks to the above diet (nuts, dark chocolate etc.) and also milk and shakes as the book suggests. For the first three weeks I had a daily shake consisting of whey protein, milk, cocoa powder, banana, peanut butter and oats. The shakes helped with weight gain, but they proved unsustainable, as they led to some, er, digestive issues. Ok, they gave me explosive diarrhoea. See [this review of Super Squats](https://empire-barbell.com/2021/07/23/super-squats-review-of-the-legendary-20-rep-squat-program/) in which the author recounts ingesting a shake according to the book's recipe before starting a work shift and shitting himself during the shift, lol.
I hadn't really drank milk for several years prior to the program (I tend to prefer oat milk with my muesli) but I did increase my milk consumption slowly over the six weeks. For most of the duration I drank a couple of glasses per day, totalling only about 500ml -1 litre. Only in the last week did I make a serious effort to drink at least 2 litres per day. Turns out it's really easy to drink a lot of milk, and a very cost-efficient way to get lots of extra calories and protein. Who knew haha.
Rest and Recovery:
I've been having trouble sleeping lately, which was the reason I opted to do the program 2 days per week from the beginning (the book recommends starting with 3 days and dropping down to 2 if you find you can't recover sufficiently between workouts). I was a very deep sleeper as a child but those days are long gone and these days the slightest noise seems to be enough to wake me. My fiancee gets up early for work during the week (her alarm goes off at 4:45am), ivariably waking me before it does her, and we have a cat, who tends, as cats do, to go crazy in the small hours (her new favourite thing is scratching frantically on the closet doors). I've tired everything I can think of short of getting rid of the cat, which I'm not willing to do for the sake of gains. Hopefully she will mellow as she gets older. If nothing else, I guess it's good practice for when we become parents lol. Suffice to say it's rare that I get an uninterrupted 8 hours of sleep.
I tried to do everything within my power to get as good sleep as I could (making an effort to get to bed earlier, playing with the cat to tire her out, etc.). I still made good gains despite overall poor sleep, but there were definitely some days when I could have gotten to bed earlier.
What I liked about the program:
Super Squats is a simple, easy-to follow program which is practically guranteed to lead to growth. The non-negotiable nature of progression from workout to workout gives a strong incentive to eat enough and get enough rest. I seriously can't see how someone could follow this program, increasing the weight as prescribed, and not grow.
Another thing I liked was making significant progress over a short timeframe while only training 2 days per week, leaving more time for life outside the gym.
By far the biggest benefit of the program, hower, is the lessons it imparts and the mental toughness it inculcates. Lessons you can only learn by standing under the crushing weight of the bar for 20 reps. Put simply, you are capable of more than you think you are, and this program teaches you that in a way that words never could. I feel that I now inderstand intensity as a training variable far more deeply than I did before the program. After running Super Squats I understand why it is so often recommended to beginners.
What I didn't like about the program:
The individual workouts took far too long. This was by far the biggest thing I disliked about the program. The book claims that the Basic Routine should take less than an hour to complete, but I found that I rarely completed a workout in less than 90 minutes, and several times it took me a full 2 hours. Granted, this was partly due to training in a busy McGym, where waiting for equipment is often a factor, and I feel like I spend half my life searching for locking collars, but even so, the long workouts were grinding. Another big factor is just how exhausted you are after that set of squats. I often felt like I was moving in slo-mo, with the stiff-legged deadlifts (themselves no easy exercise) and calf and ab work still to get through.
The other main negative factor was how daunting the squats are. I rarely looked forward to workouts, and often actively dreaded them. I really had to psyche myself up to go to the gym on this program, despite knowing that I would feel great after my workout. That next set of squats was always looming ahead menacingly.
What I would do differently:
The biggest thing I would change is doing the milk properly from the beginning. By "doing the milk" I mean drinking at least the recommended 2 quarts per day. I would also probably leave the shakes out, and make an effort to eat cleaner. I kind of gave myself free reign to cut corners and do what it takes to gain on the program (spooning peanut butter from the jar and ice cream from the tub, eating "junk" meals like burgers and fries or frozen pizzas a couple of times a week, etc.).
I would have chosen a different abs exercise. I did hollow-body crunches, but since these can't be loaded (as far as I know) I had to resort to adding extra reps and then an extra set to add progressive overload. It would have been smarter and more time-efficient to simply choose a weighted abs exercise and increase the load each workout.
I could have been more diligent about consistenly increasing weight/reps on all exercises other than the squats. I feel my progress on the other lifts could have been better.
The book does not mention cardio, and in fact states that trainees should move as little as possible outside of training to allow for maximum recovery. I will definitely add some light cardio in the form of walking the next time I run the program (thanks to u/MythicalStrength for pointing out that since the program is based on old-school principles, it is likely assumed that pretty much everyone would have been doing a fair bit of walking before lifestyles became so sedentary in developed countries). Over the weekend between weeks five and six my mother came to visit, and in the course of showing her around my city I did a lot of walking that weekend (15k steps each day). I think this may have contributed to the failure on the first workout of week 6 by eating into my recovery. Ideally, I would just do, say, a 30-40 minute walk on off days throughout the program.
Most of all, I would trust the process. Of course this is easy to say with hindsight, but there was a point in weeks 3-4 where I got quite demotivated, felt like I coudn't notice the program working (of course not - visual changes take longer than a couple of weeks!) and felt quite tired out from all the eating, so I ended up eating a bit less for about a week in the middle of the program, which quite possibly contributed to the strength losses in week 5. Again, progress isn't linear, but if you stick to the program over six weeks it will pay off.
Conclusion/Next Steps:
Running Super Squats over the last six weeks has been without a doubt the most physically and mentally challenging thing I have ever done, but the payoff has been well worth it. 4kgs gained in 6 weeks and invaluable lessons learned. I'm going to have to go clothes shopping and replace most of my wardrobe. Shirts and T-shirts that were loose are now tight, and my old slim-fit T-shirts now look comically small. Even my straight-leg jeans are now tight fitting (my fiancee said the other day, "Those jeans are a bit tight on you now, huh? But your bum looks great!").
Being on the taller side, I still have quite a lot of frame to fill out, and I still have a lot to learn about training. I will definitely be running Super Squats again in future. I am especially interested in running the Abbreviated Program, consisting of only the squats, pullovers/Rader chest pulls, bench, and bent-over rows. This would solve the problem of workouts being too long, but I imagine it would be extremely challenging, since you should increase the weight on all exercises each workout, not just the squats. With bench and bent-over rows offering less overall muscle fibre recruitment than squats, and 2.5kgs being the smallest weight increase logistically possible (in my gym, anyway), I imagine that this would be challenging in the extreme.
The book suggests running a strength-building training block after the 20-rep squat program, consisting of more sets with lower rep ranges. It even suggests alternating between six weeks on the 20-rep squat program and six on the strength-building program, extending Super Squats well past the initial six weeks. While this approach is intriguing, I want to try something different, and I would rather have more training days in the week in return for shorter individual workouts.
I've ordered a copy of 5/3/1 and will probably run 531 for Beginners, and then see which template I run after that. I have my eye on the BBB Beefcake 3 Month Challenge, but I'll see when I get there. For now, I'm going to dial back on the eating, to around maintenance levels, for at least a couple of weeks (I need a break from stuffing myself all day).
In the meantime, I can't recommend Super Squats enough! You will surprise yourself on this program.
Well, that turned into a huge wall of text. Thanks very much for taking the time to read if you got this far!

so around last year(December 2023) i had an unprotected sexual encounter with a woman,who i assumed at the moment was clean but a few days after the sexual when i woke up one morning i noticed a very sharp stinging pain on the underside of my penis and immediately went to the bathroom to see what was going on I noticed a very pronounce bump that was filled with pus when i squeezed it (not a smart idea i know)and then it suddenly bled as well. so i treated it as best i could thinking that it was caused by the genital hair shaving i did a few days prior.
mainly because i heard stories of ingrown hairs causing things like this to happen it wasn't until a few days later that i developed other symptoms such as tightness in the chest,bloodshot eyes,chills,fever,headache burning and itching in the genital area and strep throat at this point i was pretty worried and did some research on all of my symptoms which primarily lead back to herpes every time so i tried to make an appointment with my local clinic as soon as possible which was pretty hard since it was very close to new years and a lot of places were closed.
it also didn't help that after that my city was hit with a snow storm so i had to wait even longer before i could get medical help but when i finally did get medical attention it was at a local planned parenthood where i got a blood test done and the result's came back that i had genital hsv1 which was an extreme blow to my mental health but i would soon find out that those blood test aren't always reliable for herpes and that swabbing was preferable.
but by that point in time most of my symptoms where dissipating besides a constant burning sensation in my urethra which still persist even now so i made up to five appointments with my main doctors clinic and told them everything and even had then test me for herpes twice each time was a blood test since i didn't have anything noticeable to swab and the test came back negative twice despite my positive test status a few month ago.
so now I'm left stumped as to what's happening to me can herpes sores only appear internally in the urethra or is this some other type of infection what do you think?

It has been 20 years since the first calamity struck Earth. A massive wave of solar radiation from a nearby star known as Prometheus 673B showered our solar system in 2025. Electronics have been rendered useless for months, giving humanity the glimpse of what life was like long before. But that was merely temporary. The true effect of the solar flare came in the form of an illness, that afflicted roughly 10% of the current population. Unlike anything we've ever seen, the illness did not kill, rather enhanced the afflicted. For the first time in human history, the term Esper was used seriously. Dubbed the Awoken, those afflicted with illness that stemmed from the solar flare of Prometheus, gained the ability to manifest their own thoughts into reality, with varying degrees of success. At first, nations and laws, society as whole, was not prepared to deal with these new humans and their abilities. Crime ran rampant for a while.
Five years after the incident, the world banded together in a unified front, known as the AMA, The Awoken Management Agency, a world wide agency tasked with handling and controlling the Awoken, allowing humanity to once more function as a whole. Satellites have been sent out as far Earth's gaze into space could reach, to watch our for any other potential cosmic events that may occur, like the one that happened with Prometheus back in '25.
Now, 20 years since the first incident, the satellites have picked up another major cosmic event on the horizon, this time coming from the Aquila constellation. Is humanity ready to withstand whatever cosmos has prepared for it?
[]
"Kenji. Wake up! You'll be later for your lectures, again."
The young man groaned, slowly turning to his side in bed, looking at his mother that stood at the doorway. "I'm up, I'm up."
Yawning and stretching, he sat up in bed, running his fingers through his hair, before turning to check the small clock on his nightstand.
"Wha? Late? Mom, it's only 8. Lectures don't start until 10." He sighed.
"Oh well. No need to cut it short, right? Plus, I've made breakfast." His mother replied and went back downstairs.
[]
AMA Information Database:
Kenji Aoto. Age: 21 Category: Type 1 Awoken Ability: Embodiment. The unique ability of Kenji Aoto, unlike other Awoken of the same type, allows him to alter his own body based on how he feels. Most Type 1s change their environment around them, rather than themselves. Type 1s are classified as such for having abilities that considered non dangerous to the general non awoken population.
[]
"We've got a lot of promising talent this year huh?" Nathaniel said to his daughter, as the two looked down at the auditorium full of students. The dean of the university was preparing his usual welcoming speech, as the assistants tried to quiet down the murmurs of the students.
"Yeah, we sure do." Clara smiled, not taking her eyes off the scene. "Quite a good number of Awoken too."
"Anyone interesting in particular?" Nathaniel asked.
"No, not really. They all have the standard abilities you would expect out of a type 1. Same level of control to boot." She responded.
"Well, I look forward to being their professor." Her father smiled, inhaling deeply. "The smell of youthful energy, so amazing. I can still remember your first day as a freshman."
Clara blushed a bit, nudging him in the ribs with her elbow. "Shouldn't you be down there giving your speech, Dr. Offset?"
Nathaniel rubbed the back of his neck with a slightly embarrasses laugh to boot. "Oh don't call me that. Ahem, yeah. I'll be going now. See you later for lunch?"
"Of course dad." Clara smiled, giving her father a little wave as he left the teacher conference room.
[]
AMA Information database:
Clara Harris. Age: 32 Category: Non-Awoken (regular human) The lead ambassador for Awoken rights and unification in the AMA. Daughter of the lead researcher in Awoken development and the head teacher of the Awoken department in Nagoya University, Japan, Nathaniel Harris.
Nathaniel Harris. Age: 55 Category: Type 2 Awoken Ability: Offset. Acquired during the first Prometheus flare, the ability of Dr. Offset (he thought the name was cool when he was in his 20s), allows him to offset numerical values. Though touching an object is not required to use the ability on it, the potency of the ability greatly improved when he has direct contact with it. This also extends to, in theory, numerical values pertaining to objects and their position in space, relative to Nathaniel. Meaning he can move objects or parts of them relative to where he's standing, by changing their coordinates, however there were no recorded instances of him doing so. Examples include: Increasing or reducing the temperature of a beverage by direct contact. Increasing or decreasing friction on a surface of an object temporarily by touching it.
In his youth, Nathaniel attempted to become a sort of hero, once his powers kicked in, but due to the very low potency of his abilities, he never really managed to make the cut as one, despite being a type 2. Type 2s are classified as such due to having abilities that could be considered dangerous, powerful or harmful for the general non awoken population.
[]
Location: Russia, Siberia. Time: 22:37 Facility: Maximum security prison for Awoken criminals in Russia, cell block 5.
Theodore laid in his bunk, staring at the ceiling. Each of his breaths released a soft cloud of vapor, that commonly occurs when someone is in a cold environment. In his case, the vapor was a byproduct of his ability, rather than the cold cell we was in. A thug with a love for violence, turned bank robber when his abilities fully developed, Theodore terrorized Russia and the neighboring countries. It wasn't until the AMA was finally assembled and operational, that he was arrested and sentenced to multiple life sentences in this highest security prison that Russia had at a time.
Even after being sent behind bars, he kept up his antics, becoming a nightmare for the guards and inmates alike. No man that was placed in a cell with him would last more than a few days before demanding transfer. Some even lost their lives to the former thugs whims, before their transfer requests could be approved. Hence Theodore has been placed in solitary, a cell designed with all the tech necessary to nullify his ability. There he spent the last 10 years of his life.
Despite being a type 1, an awoken with abilities that were not classified as dangerous to the general population, Theodore managed to use them to their fullest extent. His blessing of temperature manipulation, was a curse to everyone around him.
He looked outside, at the night sky, through his small cell window. Apparently, there was a big stellar event, similar to the one 20 years ago, that gave him the powers he now has. He heard guards and other inmates talk about it, how AMA is now prepared for such an event.
Theodore closed his eyes, imagining what this aurora would look like. The memory of that night, when Prometheus 673B's flare struck earth still fresh in his mind like it was yesterday. The otherworldly mixture of reds and yellows and greens. Like a primordial fire that was lit across the night sky.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps outside his cell snapped him out of his memory.
"Huh?" He adjusted in bed, to see who was outside his cell.
A man, in a white cloak with golden details, stood outside his cell. Theodore was confused. The man was not one of the guards, he was bare footed and did not wear any uniform. And no way he was one of the other inmates, no one had the capabilities to leave their cells without being let out.
"Hey, who the hell are you? How did you get here? The guards letting us out or something?" The criminal walked over to his cell door. The bars were made of material that could withstand sudden changes in temperature without bending or breaking, preventing him from getting out.
The man said nothing, he didn't even turn towards the convict, he merely stood there, hood covering his as he looked up at the night sky through the decorative windows on the buildings roof.
"Hey asshat! I asked you a question. How the fuck did you get out of your cell? C'mon man, don't be a dick, let me out too." Theodore grabbed the bars and rattled them.
The cloaked man finally turned towards him. The convict was stunned, only for a second. The man has a beard and long hair, both as white as his cloak. But his eyes, they were as blue as the midday sky. He could have sworn energy seemed to pour out of them. Before he could say another word, the figure before him extended his hand at him, and with a snap of his fingers, a bold of lightning struck Theodore square in the chest. The convict was send flying, back hitting the wall opposite the cell doors.
[]
Location: Brazil, San Paolo. Time: 16:37 Facility: Remodeled Taubaté Prison, cell block 3.
Vitor sat on the bench press, just finishing a set, looking over the prison yard. Even behind bars, his connections did not dwindle. A former petty drug dealer, Vitor Alves quickly rose to power and influence once his powers awoke. He employed other Awoken with criminal tendencies as his own personal task force to drive all other competition into the ground. Once he held the entirety of San Paolo's drug empire in his hand, he set his sights farther. We wanted the entire city for himself, believing that no one could challenge his claim to that right.
With the help of the AMA, the Brazilian government swiftly put his plan to rest, and Vitor behind bars. The fight between the Awoken under Alves and the AMA/Brazilian forces was indeed a bloody one and resulted in a good number of civilian casualties. The drug lord was sent to Taubate, where he would spend the rest of his life. The prison was remodeled, per AMA standards, to be fully equipped and capable of holding Awoken criminals.
Despite having powers of temperature manipulation, capable of increasing temperature to lethal amounts, Vitor did not believe that to be his strongest ability. Money, influence, connections, those were real power, what truly carried him to the top of the criminal world.
Even now, as he sat on the bench press, doing a few reps before looking over the yard, Vitor was not powerless in the outside world. He waited on his informant, his connection to the outside, to appear so he could delegate orders to what was left of his followers and empire on the outside.
He wasn't sure if it was something he ate, or the heat from the pounding sun. Maybe it was even that sky flare that he heard AMA guards mention. Something indeed felt off, his vision seemed a bit blurry. As if the entire prison courtyard was moving slowly right before him. But the informant should be there soon, so Vitor decided not to go back to his cell just yet.
The other inmates, guards, even the basketball that the inmates played hoops with, suddenly slowed down to a halt. Through the statue like crowd, a single figure moved over to Vitor. His feet were bare, his body and face hidden behind a hooded cloak. The drug lord could only see his white beard and his eyes, as they seemed to be glowing a faint blue glow. Before he even got a chance to speak, the man extended his hand towards him and with a smirk, snapped his fingers, sending a bolt of lightning straight into the mans body, causing Vitor to fly several feet and collapse on the ground.
[]
"Ugh... What the fuck man?" Theodore cursed, as he regained his consciousness. Slowly, he got up to his knees, his head pounding like he was struck by a hammer. The cell felt colder than before. Looking around, he saw the entire cell frozen, every surface covered by a thick layer of ice. Bed, toilet, the cell doors, frozen solid. And the ice shifted. With every movement of his hands, the ice followed.
"Could it be?" The inmate whispered, focusing his mind, channeling his ability. Ice began to form in the palm of his hand, morphing freely. With a single wave of his hand, the frozen bed shattered into bits and pieces. Theodore inhaled, getting up to his feet, head still in pain. But the realization was crystal clear. He could now freeze things without having to touch them, manipulate what he froze, as well create ice out by freezing the water in the air. With a grin plastered across his face, Theodore thanked the mysterious man, of who there was not a single trace left, and decided that he's busting himself out of prison.
[]
"WARNING! WARNING! WARNING. PRISON BREAKS DETECTED ACROSS MULTIPLE AMA FACILITIES!" Blared the system on screen at the Awoken Management Agency in Nagoya. Other HQs across the globe received the same warning.
"What the hell is going on?" Clara said, running into the monitoring hall.
"I don't know. Prison breaks, across multiple locations world wide." Kaito replied, his eyes not leaving the monitors as he fired up the surveillance drones on the impacted locations.
"The main facilities that were absolutely totaled are Siberia and San Paolo." He continued.
"Think it could be?" Clara asked.
"Not possible. The protection against solar flares was at full power. Not a single particle should have hit the ground. I mean, we didn't lose any tech, unlike last time." Kaito shot her question down, pulling up the drone feed of the two prisons.
Taubate was in flames. The entire facility seemed to be entirely engulfed in a raging fire. The Russian counterpart held no better either. The entire prison was torn apart by massive glacier like formations, that seemed to jut out of the ground.
Clara, Kaito and other technicians presents stared, slackjawed, at the live drone feed. Something like that was not possible, no Awoken held that level of power. Not even if multiple Awoken united, could they produce that level of destruction across such a large area.
"Wait wait! What's that? Zoom in on one of the glaciers!" One of the technicians said, pointing at the big monitors.
Kaito's fingers flew across the keyboard, as the drone moved closer and the video on screen zoomed to its maximum. On one of the glacier formations, sat a man, clearly an inmate based on the jumpsuit he was wearing.
"Running identification." Chimed the computer.
"Inmate 4012: Theodore Ivarovski. Age: 36. Category: Type 1 Awoken. Ability: Low drop. His ability allows him to significantly drop the temperature of anything he touches, almost instantly."
"He's a type 1. No way in hell that he could pull of something like this." Clara said, eyes glued to the screed. "He must have re-awoken, there is no other explanation."
"Clara, in the last 20 years since the Prometheus, there was never a single instance of that happening. Some Awoken do push their abilities past the initial capabilities, but that's usually the end of it. It's a conspiracy theory." Kaito mumbled.
"Then how do you explain THAT?" She said, pointing at a massive piece of ice that was quickly forming above Ivarovski, before being sent flying towards the drone and cutting off the live feed.
[]
(Howdy y'all. This is a bit different from my usual write style, with a more manga like story/narration instead of the standard story/novel format I do. I hope you like it, I came up with it months ago, but due to time constrains with work I haven't gotten around to writing it. Based on how it's received, I may continue this along side Sand & Steel. You can read S&S on here:
Royal Road
Wattpad
Scribble Hub
Hope y'all have a nice day.
-M.W.A.)

Title basically sums it all up. I have no trouble cutting off blood flow on one side by raising my elbow high to drive the forarm into the side of the throat, but I can't work out how to apply pressure to the other side of the neck effectively. I know I should be pushing their shoulder into place, but I find that I simply can't get a tight or direct enough pressure with the arm-in-elbow lock that is recommended, even if I roll them off onto their side and apply my weight through my chest to their shoulder. I can get taps but I'm essntially just cranking people's necks and I'd rather not do that.
Edit: Thanks for all the tips guys, I'm getting it, even if my girlfriend is getting pissed off with me.