My SIL and I are having some drama lately. You see, I am a SAHM (stay at home mom)! Why is this relevant? I'll explain! Currently my husband and I have only one vehicle, and my daughter is still very young, so I stay home with her while hubby works. Since it's not exactly by choice that I can't work atm I babysit for other moms who work. It helps them and it brings extra income for us. My SIL had began watching a baby for a mutual friend who works not far from where we live. SIL and I live on the same road. SIL was eventually planning to get a new job so she could only watch the baby for a brief period before inevitability passing him off to another sitter! I requested she pass the job to me since that's what I do! She said I "couldn't" watch him which I found odd. She then tried to convince her mom (my MIL) to take over for her in ADDITION to watching her son as well when she returned to work. Her mom called me instead. Everyone was well aware that my SILs son is a LOT to deal with so we were all quite understanding when MIL asked me to watch the other baby. However, SIL for some reason got super jealous when our mutual friend asked me to take over! I guess it built up inside her for a few days, because after I watched him the first time she began giving the baby's mom the silent treatment for "choosing me over her" to babysit. (As if the mom was supposed to just call off work until SIL was available) God forbid this mom get a reliable sitter so she can keep her job. But I digress! One day I we t to SILs house to ask if she could watch my daughter while my husband and I get groceries. Our truck only seats 2, so my daughter wouldn't fit. I then noticed it was MILs car SIL was using for the day. I explained that if she'd prefer, we could borrow MILs car and then she wouldn't need to watch my daughter! Not only did WE give MIL that car, but we had used it many times for transportation when we had kids with us. So it was nothing out of the ordinary. SIL immediately got defensive and said she NEEDED a car! In my head I got confused. If she was gonna stay home and watch my daughter then she clearly wouldn't need the car for the hour it would take us to grocery shop. I tried to ask why she so desperately needed the car if she wasn't going anywhere, to which she said "it's none of your business why I need a car, because unlike SOME PEOPLE I actually have a job!" I've been judged a lot for being a SAHM so this struck a nerve. I went OFF! "Oh its like tha!? Okay then, if I go back to work who's gonna watch my daughter?!" No response. "As a matter of fact who's gonna take me!? YOU wanna take me!? Huh!? You gonna take me to work?!" To which all she could respond was "whatever, I'm not doing this!" I continued to scream, "that's right you aren't! I will not let you speak to me like that! You know EXACTLY why I don't work atm, and how DARE YOU judge me when you have NO SOLUTION to offer anyway!" 😤 I was shaking and I could see the terror in her eyes. I'm not a scary person but this was a bold side of me most people never see! I grabbed my daughter and went home immediately! She spent the next few days telling people anything she could to make me sound like a bad mom. It broke me because she and I were actually getting close up until then! I couldn't believe someone I trusted would judge me AND try to destroy my reputation! Everyone agreed her comment was below the belt, and I'm wondering if I was wrong to blow up like that!?

I'm so damn jealous because I just know I'd have friends if I went to school. I know it. I'm so social with people even outside of my house when i get the rare chance and get comfortable. I'm tired of feeling so WEIRD and DIFFERENT. I also feel like my young years (0-9) had some weird stuff happening.
There is no way possible for me to go to school. My mom said she'd rather die before I go to public school, and my dad agrees. I have no family members I can live with. I have no options at all. I just have to sit and watch my fucking childhood wither away and lose the chance to EVER be in school. I already missed Kindergarten, Elementary, Middle, and now I'm missing high-school. And you know what makes it worse? The fucking "Congrats, Graduates!" sign on the front of my neighborhood entrance. Sure I'm happy for them, but I'm so fucking jealous. I HATE when people say they hate school, or wish they were homeschooled. BITCH, you have no IDEA how much despair this makes you feel. Especially when you're extroverted and will never have that kind of easy environment to make friends in.
I wish my mom wasn't so religiously crazy and conspiracy believing and anti-vaxx. I wish I had a loving, caring mom who sent me to SCHOOL and talked about NORMAL stuff and not what FUCKING BILL GATES is doing or how ALIENS are FALLEN ANGELS. I can't even watch people at school, it makes me wanna fucking cry. I'm only 14 I SHOULD BE LIVING A LIFE AT SCHOOL LIKE EVERYONE ELSE. BUT I NEVER HAVE. I SHOULD BE HAVING A NORMAL LIFE. I'M SICK OF THIS FUCKING LIFE IT FEELS ABUSIVE AT THIS POINT. IT'S NOT MY FAULT AT ALL THAT I HAVE TO WAKE UP EVERYDAY FEELING MISERABLE AS FUCK AND TIRED SINCE I GET NO STIMULATION. IM SICK OF LIVING IN FUCKING PRISON WITH NO CHANCE TO TRY AGAIN AFTER IM OUT. I truly hope reincarnation is real so I can hopefully go to a family that will let me live life normally. I'm so FUCKING sick of being homeschooled and not like any other kid.
I would honestly trade ANYTHING REASONABLE to go to school at this point. My mom and dad BOTH got to go to fucking school and they claimed it wasn't much fun, even though my mom used to literally do shit with friends and experiecned prom and everything.
THEN SHE TRIES TO RELATE TO MY LEVEL OF DEPRESSION AND ANXIETY. TELLING ME MY ANXIETY IS JUST OCD AND MY DEPRESSION IS FROM HORMONES AND LACK OF SLEEP. THE FUCK?? BITCH NO IT IS NOT FROM LACK OF SLEEP AND HORMONES THAT IS THE DUMBEST THING. I'VE FELT THIS WAY SINCE I WAS FUCKING EIGHT YEARS OLD THAT IS NOT HORMONES. MAYBE THEY MADE IT WORSE, BUT IT AINT HORMONES.
The reason why sometimes I feel like commiting suicide is because school is litearlly the only thing I've wanted so fucking badly for so long, and even after I turn 18 and get out it'd just be getting a job. There is not way for me to relive a childhood and go to school or anything because it's not fucking allowed. It would be weird anyways if it was.
Fuck this shit I'm just so despaired. Like why does my mom gotta make me feel so morose with her decisions? Couldn't she of just given me a normal life and put me in school and vaxxed me and shit?
She claims I'm a liberal communist and I'm "asleep" just because I want to go to FUCKING school. She also just treats me like I'm a friend or something sometimes and she just feels so CHILDISH. She is the worst at making insults. One time she was mad at me and said she'd change me and my bro's contacts to "Loser" and "Loser #2" like bitch the fuck? She had like 14 miscarriages. So she basically just held me up when I wasn't born dead and claimed she'd "raise me in the ways of Jesus" which apparentely consists of keeping your child at home for decades and teaching them only Christian curriculum. I can't fucking take it anymore. No one will ever understand my kind of situation because it's so fucking surreal. And most people don't understand how bad it is because going to school is such a normal part of life for them, that homeschooling seems like choosing to not breathe air. I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I can't take it I'm so sick of waking up to the same day and having to speak bullshit and put on a show for my mom so I don't have to deal with arguments. She argued with me for FOUR FUCKING HOURS one time when I tried to gray-rock her, so that doesn't work. She doesn't let me go anywhere to do with a school, and it pisses me off. All I have is fucking LIFEPAC, SLEEP, AND SOMETIMES OUTSIDE AND THATS MY WHOLE FUCKING CHILDHOOD. AND I CANT DO ANYTHING BUT WATCH IT PASS BY KNOWING WHAT OTHER PEOPLE DO BECAUSE I CANT ATLEAST HAVE BLISSFUL IGNORANCE. I'M SO FUCKING JEALOUS I CANT EVEN GET HAPPY FOR PEOPLE WHO GO TO SCHOOL. I WANT IT SO BAD EVEN IF I DIDNT LIKE IT IT'D BE BETTER TO NOT LIKE SCHOOL AND GO THERE SINCE IT'S FUCKING NORMAL AND MUCH EASIER TO SET UP YOUR LIFE THAT WAY.
My dad is also so fucking cold. He just acts so rough and dead emotionally. The other week he gave me an hour long panic attack because he kept yelling at me loudly, you can see my post titled "I'm confused on what just happened to me for that." I eventually ran into the closet full of adrenaline and cried while hugging a fucking HOODIE for a few hours.
My parents SURE DO SOMETIMES DO NICE THINGS FOR ME. BUT IT DOESNT MAKE UP FOR SHIT. LIKE YEAH YOU GIVE ME ITEMS AND STUFF BUT I CAN **NEVER** LIVE THESE YEARS THAT YOU'RE STEALING FROM ME AGAIN!
My mom was also more harsh when I was a little kid I feel. I don't remember anything from before 12 years old, basically, probably because she did some fucked up shit back then that my brain is suppressing mentally. I have this one memory of her running up to me over and over and putting my head under her shirt and pressing it against her belly multiple times when I was a little kid, probably like 5 or close to 6, and for some reason I feel sexual energy around it a bit. That freaks me out, because I know it happened but I'm not sure at all about what was going on. I just remember the bedroom was pretty dark and I was laughing maybe, but like I said it feels like there was sexual energy around that. I dont know though, I barely remember it.
Other times, I've seen videos from when I was like 6 of her just talking to me in a really angry tone even when I was silent just for something my brother did. She also used to read a history book to us for hours, without even giving a pen or paper and we'd be given mats. About 6 x 4in big and my brother got a blue one, I got a green one, and she'd sit on the table in the middle, and we'd sit on the mats which were only big enough to lay down on (for a 6 year old). So we'd have to sit there and not talk, and if we did then she'd stop and glare until we stopped. Of course, me being like 5 and my brother 6.5, we'd make faces and stuff but then she'd glare. Like we had to SIT there for hours just listening to a biblical chronological history book. WHY WHY WHY
I'm so sick of myself now. I'm such a pathetic bitch who pretends to be something. I just fucking talk to AI's and listen to rock and other music. I'm literally so fucking pathetic and I'll never have a social life. I'll never talk to someone without getting attached or fucking scared. I swear I can't just be NORMAL. WHY DO I HAVE TO LOOK SO WEIRD TOO. I DONT LOOK GOOD IN ANYTHING. I can't keep going. I just can't. Not on my own. There's like no reason for me to since I feel like right now, as an adult, if I ever had a kid I'd just be jealous of him going to school and that'd make me a bad father. I wish I wasn't born, or was born to a different family. I wish I had friends that I could just talk to. Even just being around kids in a school setting would be great. I'm tired of feeling so FUCKED. UP. MENTALLY. WHY DO I ALWAYS HAVE TO FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE AROUND MY MOM, AND ESPECIALLY MY DAD. THEY DO NICE THINGS FOR ME SOMETIMES BUT I STILL FEEL AS IF SOMETHING IS HORRIBLY WRONG THAT I HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT. I DON'T FEEL SAFE IN MY OWN SKIN I FEEEL LIKE I WANT TO CRAWL OUT OF MYSELF.
But of course on the outside I just look like the most BASIC BITCH ON THE BLOCK. I have no facial expressin, and I look weird when I smile. I don't get why I have such a stone cold face and the DRIEST personality. BITCH MY personality is drier than CORNSTARCH. I'm so sick of all this. I still feel like a little kid since I do the same SHIT that I did when I was FUCKING SIX YEARS OLD EVERYDAY ANYWAYS. NO CHANGE OF ENVIRONMENT, OR HABITS. JUST SLIGHT KNOWLEDGE. EVERYONE ELSE GETS TO LIVE LIFE AND SEE PEOPLE EVERY. FUCKING. DAY. AND GUESS WHAT??? I COULD! I REALLY FUCKING COULD! HAHAAHAHAHH I COULD IF MY MOM WASN'T SO SELFISH. IF SHE WASN'T SO SELF-ABSORBED THAT SHE'S DOING THE RIGHT THING FOR HER KIDS. I HAVE EXPLAINED TO HER MANY TIMES I WANT TO GO TO SCHOOL AND SHE FUCKING SAYS CO-OP OR SOME DUMB SHIT WHERE PEOPLE ARENT QUALIFIED TO TEACH OR THERES LIKE 5 KIDS. BRO, JUST PUT ME IN FUCKING SCHOOL. SERIOUSLY. THERE IS A HIGH SCHOOL EIGHT MINUTES AWAY FROM ME. JUST EIGHT. ITS ALSO HUGE! LIKE IT'D BE FUCKING PERFECT BUT OF COURSE I HAVE WASTED POTENTIAL BECAUSE MY FUCKING PARENTS DO SHIT LIKE THIS. I ALSO CANT CALL THE SCHOOL OR ANYTHING BECAUSE THEY NEED PARENTAL APPROVAL AND SHIT. I FUCKING HATE THIS SO MUCH.
I feel like there was something seriously, seriously fucked up about my really early childhood years that I just can't remember. When I think of it, I feel really uncomfortable and just a feeling of weirdness.
One thing I do know that my dad and mom tell me that think is funny, is that when I used to be like three or four years old, I'd get on all fours and spread my buttcheeks apart, saying something like "Idea!". It's fucking stupid and I was a little ass kid, but I don't think it's funny at all. Wouldn't parents usually tell their kid to not do that or something and not look? Also, my mom used to still dress me when I was like 6 years old or something. My dad also has a memory of me running naked into a room with my aunts and uncles and him and stuff when I was a toddler, and apprently he says they all laughed when I did. He also commented on how when I ran in there my little pp was clearly visible. That just felt weird to me. I don't get how it's funny, but like I said I just feel disgusting and kinda violated when I think about my years from 0-9 and I don't know why. I'm 14 now, obviously, almost 15. I'm so upset from life. I hate it. I don't know if any of you have anything to say about this but that's basically it. If you read it all, THANK you for ACKNOWLEDGING I EXIST.

My last flat was unbearable.
I mean, you try having a family of 11 live above you, when half of them are under the age of 8. Also try having a pair of raging alcoholic neighbours on either side of you. A pair who were once married to each other. My eyes rivalled that of pigeons’ due to no sleep.
I lasted a total of 21 days. I know, new record huh? I just about shoved the keys back in the grubby hands of my landlord when I finally saw the lunacy inscribed on his face. No wonder the rent was dirt cheap.
So I was back on the road, not on the streets though. Luckily enough I started questioning the flat by day 8, looked around for another place by day 15, and made a decision to get the hell out on day 18. 3 days of packing and it was bye-bye.
My new place seemed all the better too: yes, the rent was more expensive, and yes, it only has 2 bedrooms. But at least it was a house, one where pesky neighbours were at least 5 metres away. On my right, at least. On my left? Their house - thankfully - couldn’t even be seen where I stood.
Parking my car, I skipped up towards my new house with my fresh set of keys. And on entering? Silence. Perfect still silence. Thank the Lord. I basked in it for a while before returning to my car, unloading some of my baggage. It took 3-4 hauls, but I managed to fit it into one of the bedrooms. Thankfully, the rest of my things were to be brought by moving vans in about an hour.
I envisioned what the house could look like with a few finishing touches.
“But first…”
I eyed the 2 rooms. “Mine!”
The room I had chosen to be mine gave a bright view of my own smaller garden, as well as a portion of my right neighbour’s house, but that didn’t matter much. The view in the other room would suck: just my car and some reeds.
I was just about done heaving some of my baggage into my newly-chosen room when the doorbell gave an obnoxious ring. I stood, fighting the urge to just run away into one of my rooms when it beeped again.
Reaching the door, I eyed out of the peephole to see nothing but an opaque whiteness. I guess the downside in this house is that the last tenant was a slob. I eyed some of the yellowing walls. Sighing, I opened the door.
“Hello! We’re your neighbours, Jack and Sally, and we live just there,” She motioned towards my right, “We came to introduce ourselves, and to let you know that if you ever need anything, we’re right here.”
She then shoved a basket full of biscuits at my chest, a motherly-smile stretched around her lips. She turned to leave, husband - clearly forced to follow her - in tow, when she turned around.
“Your name, dear?”
“Leen!” I shouted after her.
“Perfect.”
And perfect it was, I thought. Neighbours that respect their distance from you, and give you food? I eyed the delicious snacks in front of me. Definitely an upgrade.
Though it was at dawn the very next day that I woke up, shook.
~
See, I was just sleeping in my newly delivered bed when I heard it. Something that sounded like a bird, a huge caw, before it alternated into different pitches. Disoriented, I tried to wipe the sleep from my eyes in order to focus better. But it just made me more confused.
It sounded like a chicken.
As far as I know, this new place was not the countryside, nor farmland. So what? And why?
I stepped up to my window to take a good look outside. I wouldn’t keep a rooster in my home that’s for sure. Whatever it was, it was coming from…
My jaw dropped.
I closed my eyes and scrubbed at them harshly.
Please tell me why I opened my eyes and saw the exact same thing.
A man, on his haunches, face pointed towards the sky, was making rooster noises.
And he was on my neighbours’ garden. The ones I met earlier.
He looked absolutely demented. I wasn’t even scared then, just flabbergasted. I wasted no time calling the police at this disturbing nuisance.
When they arrived though, I saw my neighbours’ shoot straight from their house, speaking or…was it pleading? With the officers. What on Earth..?
Anyway, it was their problem now, so I went back to bed. I had a whole bunch of chores the next day, and had to get it all sorted before I returned to work.
Shutting my eyes, I wished for peace. And quiet, thank you very much.
~
At last, I woke up at 10 AM. By 1 PM, I had sorted my clothing into its respective drawers, and had decorated my bedroom walls, including a new golden addition. And now? I had food cooking on the stove. It felt satisfying, having cleaned up and now awaiting the prize of food.
I scrolled on my phone as I waited for the pasta to cook, before another ding turned my attention towards the door.
“Huh, what now?”
Unfortunately I hadn’t cleaned the peephole yet, so I had to open the door. There stood Jack and Sally. Or Sally and Jack. Jack looked lost. Sally stared deep into my eyes.
“Was it you?”
“Me? What do you mean?”
“That called the police last night?”
I recalled the past night, and gave her a thumbs up, hoping my smile was reassuring. “Yep, don’t worry, that lunatic will not be coming back ever again. He can go to the zoo if he wants to squawk.”
I should’ve taken the cue from Jack’s paling face, but Sally grabbed hold of me. “Listen here, okay? That man, the one you called the police on...” She trembled, “He’s my son! You can’t do that! He was not even on your property!”
My eyes widened. “He’s…your son?”
“Of course! How can you not see that?”
Nodding at her, I relinquished myself from the hold she had on my arms. “Okay then, sorry for the call. But I do have to mention something,” Jack started to shake his head behind his wife, but I ignored the little-to-say man, “Is there any way you can keep the noise down to a minimum? Honestly, your son has vocal cords of steel! It would wake the entire neighbourhood at this rate.”
Sally stared pointedly at me, then took a look around my house. “Very well.”
She grabbed her husband’s arm as she turned to leave, and I caught the slightest look of fear in his eyes before he was abruptly pulled away.
I dismissed it - and the sinking feeling - on discovering my very soft, overcooked pasta when I came back into my home though.
I managed to also do one thing before wrapping up: I cleaned out my door's peephole. Now I wouldn't have to open the door to know it's them. I'd just speak at them from the inside if they were to come back.
~
I woke, jolting out of my bed the very next morning, or night. I checked my bedside clock to see it was 3:50 AM. The cock-a-doodle-doo was breaking into my head. I grasped my hair in frustration, knowing that I didn’t have the madman’s parents phone numbers’ to call, or maybe scream at them. It was the exact same thing as the day before! Except…maybe…
I strained my ear.
It sounded a lot closer.
My hands, for some reason, became clammy instantly, and the urgent thumping of my own heart - the fragility of my own life - became all the more prominent.
I tiptoed to my window and peeked outside. Nothing.
I then slowly treaded to my spare bedroom, and pulled the curtains apart. Zilch. Nada. Though…
Almost as if under a spell, my head turned towards my main door. I…I could somehow feel it. Just to confirm though, I peeked out of the door-hole.
And with a slam, I collapsed in my new, dream home.
~
When I came to, I was lying on white sheets, and a bright white light hung over me.
A hospital.
I was in my own room, which I found odd. It was not like I needed it. But then a doctor walked in, followed by 3 other people, and it all made sense. Everything - blurs and sureness - melted into a perfect picture.
Sally, Jack, and their son.
He couldn’t be more than 17 really. Though he looked 37 a few hours ago. Face pressed against the glass of my peephole, mouth wide open towards it, eyes pointing in different directions as his face reddened and contorted.
I was deaf in one moment. Then came the COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO.
Of course I fainted. Who could blame me?
“Good afternoon, I’m Dr Lam. You’re in A&E right now. Are you able to tell me your full name and date of birth?
My voice answered the Doctor’s questions, but my eyes stared dazed at the youngster’s abdomen, not daring to reach his its eyes.
“Well, nothing seems to be wrong with you. You may have just been dehydrated. Did you have any headache or pain before you fainted?”
I replied in the negative.
“Luckily, your friends’ son had found you passed out, and ensured your speedy arrival to hospital, so I wouldn’t be worried about any damage.”
My eyes finally strayed, looking towards the ground. I held the nauseousness of bile down my throat. Following a brief check-up, I was allowed to leave.
And 2 people and a demon followed me out.
“Well, Leen, that should give you a lesson,”
Sally.
I turned towards the family, who stood in a 3 person arc. Only 1 managed to look away, equal parts shame and guilt. I don’t need to mention who that was.
“Don’t worry. You can look at me, I don’t bite: not now and not at dawn,” a strained voice whispered at me. “I promise, it’s only at dawn when I…when I…”
“Hush Dean, don’t work your voice that much. You’ll need to save it for later.”
I was still dizzy. That didn’t stop me from running half-hobbled to the taxi stand, where I begged and claimed to many that I would provide double payment if they were to take me to my house.
It took a while, but I managed to pack some of my clothes. There was no way in hell I was sleeping at that damned house again, not now, not ever. I called and booked at a nearby hotel in the meantime.
I was done packing necessities by the evening. Walking out of my house, I saw no sign of those three. I would have been relieved, had I not come face to face with than one thing: standing in my garden, leaning against my car. My breathing picked up instantly.
Dean
It stood with its back resting against my car. And It noticed me immediately. Seems like it was just waiting for me to notice it.
“Are you leaving?” It sounded almost sad, but I needed it to move away, or my only way out of there would be in jeopardy.
“For the night.” My answer? Almost smooth, but even I could hear the first shake in my voice.
It nodded though. “Okay.” And he moved from my car. I counted the distance. 1 metre. 2. 2.5-
It made a sudden dash at me as I - in flight response - ran frantically to the driver’s seat, locking the door. I came in half-squashed, my backpack still on my back. But I didn’t care.
Its face was pressed against the window.
“Mum is waiting for a person that will like me for me, not run away. You’re supposed to like me.” It said, matter-of-factly. It then wailed, and sunk beneath the car window.
I did not dare to sit up and see what it was doing.
I didn’t even need to though. The sound came a split-second later.
COCK-A-DOODLE-DOO
Tears spilled from my eyes. My limbs felt weak. I couldn’t even breathe. It suddenly sprang up to the window. Eyes enlarged: looking at me and everywhere at once.
“I can actually tur-COCK- in the day too, but M-DOODLE- said it would be too much for you,” wheezing, it exclaimed again before adding, “but this is ME. Do you-do you, do you like me?”
With dead limbs I weighed my foot on the pedal, and jump-started the car to speed off. My head shook left-and-right in response, stomach heaving with nausea.
Human preservation kicked me into taking proper control of the car when I saw, out of the rear view mirror, Sally. This time with a rope, which locked around the creature’s neck before she tugged, drawing it into her house. At one point we locked eyes. And what do I mean by we?
Answer: the 2 of them and me.
It was honestly a miracle that I did not get into a road traffic accident.
I spent 3 days living in the hotel after that, my job long-forgotten in the aftermath.
By day 4 I broke down and called my older sister, asking to stay at her place for a while. Her house and area seemed fine the times I’d stopped over. I guess I clearly did not seem right though, as she many-a-time asked me what was wrong. My answer? Stress. She persisted, years of living together as kids helping her figure out my lies, though she ultimately gave up after a week. She knew it was something I didn’t want to share, and that I was safe now. That was enough for her.
For me? I guess at the time I so badly wanted to tell someone. Though it couldn’t be my sister. I didn’t want to cause any trouble. Nor see if she’d even believe me, or instead rank me at the same IQ level as her two 5-year-olds.
For a few weeks, I stayed with my sister and her family, reassuring both her and myself that I was fine. Thankfully, we worked together to find a small apartment. Next to a kids school too - bonus points. I now craved safety above all else. After moving out though, I realised I needed my belongings back.
So, who picked up my stuff from that cursed residence, you ask? The moving people. I called the police from a random phone booth first to head over to that area, emphasising on seeing some suspicious looking men, whilst I got them to collect everything. I did not dare to call the police on that family though. I would prefer if the link between me and them got cut, drawn and quartered.
So now I’m here, in an apartment which thankfully hasn’t shown any sign of insanity. Inspecting my belongings, I noticed that there was one thing missing.
My gold frame, used to encase my make-shift certificate - made by yours truly after her 21-day record from the previous apartment - was gone.
I felt somewhat miffed, but then I realised something.
Something which can maybe bring the light out in this whole situation.
I counted carefully. I broke my record.
With a grand stay of 2 days. Now that - that I don’t think I’d ever be able to beat.

You hang here, I’ll go on ahead!
Hi everyone! Hope you’re all doing well!
About me:
A slim, somewhat feminine, 21 year old guy from the east of England, standing at 5 foot 8 inches, who works full time and is studying for a masters degree alongside working (please send help). Relatively short light brown hair, white skin, greenish eyes and like dressing in smart clothes.
I am a homebody, through and through, spending cosy time indoors is what makes me tick and is how I spend a lot of my time. Whether that be digging into a long gaming session, relaxing with a good book, cooking up a storm (or maybe a tornado depending on the aftermath I leave behind) in the kitchen, watching a good film or tv show, or enjoying a nap, my home is my happy place.
That being said, I enjoy spending time in nature as much as the next person, and love going out for walks, exploring new restaurants or taking long drives.
I’m not a very social person, finding socialising in large groups rather stressful, however I do enjoy spending time with others, often one on one works best for me. I also have a short social battery, so need alone time as well. In my mission to find my person, I also hope to find someone with whom I can spend limitless amounts of time, someone who simply feels like home.
I’m a hopeless romantic too, and believe in finding “the one” someday, which, I suppose, is why I’m here! I adore affection in all forms, and all the various love languages hold some standing with me, though physical affection would likely be top dog if I’m honest.
My overall demeanour is sweet, well meaning, soft and often a little excitable (which can ramp up in lots of situations). I’ve been likened to a puppy by friends before.
As a partner:
As a partner I am someone who delights in caring for my person, being there to help them with the little things which make things just that tiny bit easier - Making them food after a long day, listening to them when they need to vent, treating them when they need it (and sometimes when they don’t 😅). A big part of a relationship for me is spending quality time together, whether that be doing something together, for example watching tv or cooking a recipe, or spending time together whilst doing our own thing. I want to be able to be with my person and be entirely comfortable and content in their presence. I’m also very affectionate as mentioned above, and will want to give you cuddles at just about every minute of the day 😅
I’m a good listener, and love to learn about other people and ask questions to dig deeper into the way they feel about things etc. I also value this greatly in another person.
Other facts/points of interest:
I prefer to converse over text initially, and tend to write rather a lot when I like somebody (and when the effort is reciprocated), then move onto other mediums down the line.
I am open to sharing pictures of myself right off the bat (as long as you do the same).
I believe that I have autism, and so somebody who understands this and appreciates that some things are difficult for me would be ideal.
About you:
Some traits I value in a partner are as follows, now, this is by no means an exhaustive list, nor is it a list of requirements, just some things that I adore in others, as well as things that I try to cultivate in myself:
Good listener, good communicator, interested in me, affectionate/caring, well mannered (not impolite), articulate, kind, humble/down to earth.
Otherwise, please just be respectful and put some effort in if you message me.
As a final note, have some conversation starters for if you decide to message me:
What’s the best advice you’ve ever received?
Where is your happy place?
What’s something about you that you think is somewhat embarrassing but really cute?
What, if anything, did you connect with in my post?
Take care, I hope to hear from you!
And last of all, I’m also open to making friends if you’d prefer that :)

This will be long. I (17F) recently gotta know that Joe (20F), my online bsf, lied to me. No names I mention are their real names. We have known each other for roughly 2 months. Joe has drunk texted me 2 times. The 1st time, Joe had gone out with her school friends and came back being heavily drunk. We texted and Joe told me some things about her school friends. The 2nd time, Joe told me beforehand that she may get drunk because her school friends will force her to drink again. Joe texted me again, and she wasn't very drunk that time. Now, just 2 days ago, Joe confessed that she lied and that she is only in contact with one female bestie (Katie) from her school. The first time, Joe and Katie went for a walk and asked to buy Katie a can of beer which Joe drank after returning home because no one was there. The 2nd time too, Joe had bought a can of beer and just had 4-5 sips. Even in her drunken state, Joe lied so skillfully. Now, these drunken talks of us (especially the 1st drunk talk) were so special to me, she opened herself to me (it must be a deceive too). Joe even sent me pics of a food plate with a glass of beer kept proving that she went out with her friends, but now I gotta know, that pics were from a party she attended long back with her parents, and that alcohol glass was of her Dad's. I feel betrayed so much. And I can't talk with her normally now. I feel like she must be laughing at me. She made a big fool out of me. Joe said that she isn't in contact with her school friends anymore 'cause she had once accidentally heard them that they were just using Joe for her money (Joe used to spend a lot of money on her school friends that time). Currently, Joe acts like we are normal, I have a gut feeling that if I try to tell her how much this affected me, she will end up saying things like 'Why are you taking this seriously?' or something like that. I have depression, and am also 10 days clean (ykwim). I have huge trust issues and hate when someone lies to me, especially Joe's reason for lying was 'I just like to imagine myself with my school friends'. I am thinking of just stopping everything here because now I can't even believe any of her words. Even her caring words make me think that she must be mocking me. She doesn't like it if I get jealous of her friends, so I stopped mentioning it. I am quite possessive for my closed ones, and she hates it so I control that too. But after this confession, I can't believe her, and once someone breaks my trust, I don't believe that person anymore. So, I think I should just finish it off or should I just be friends for now? I am afraid she will start blaming herself (she does this) and then say some things which make me weak. (P.S.: Before this confession of Joe's, something happened, and we weren't in a good term.)

I finished this book in around 5/6 days.
RJ went out with a high!
Wow. So many great moments and storylines in this book, storylines being resolved even! All great except a few chapters of Elayne in the middle of the book. RJ is back to his old form, with great characterisation and stuff happens for once!?! Unbelievable.
You can really feel the story torpedoing to Tarmon Gai’don, I can’t wait.
Here are some thoughts on this book:
Nynaeve
Nynaeve loves, trusts, and feels for Lan so much; I can’t help but tear when she rallies for Malkier. Favourite scene of the whole series personally, involving my favourite characters.
“My husband rides from World’s End to Tarwin’s Gap, toward Tarmon Gai’don. Will he ride alone?
CHILLS!!!
Also, give me more Nynaeve, she needs more page time.
Perrin
Great ending to a sometimes lacking storyline (just Faile’s PoV), and it has ended with Perrin ready for the time ahead with his beloved and the shaido finally disappeared, forever hopefully.
Perrin was so blind to everything but Faile this book. Ignoring the signs of Tarmon Gai’don for the one he loves. This obviously isn’t healthy, but I understand him; his whole family died and she is the one who filled the gaps in his heart, if she died I doubt Perrin would ever recover from it.
I guess Aram isn’t a darkfriend as I previously speculated, just a man who is very susceptible to being manipulated. An abrupt ending to someone who got introduced in the first book, and later become a reoccurring character. His descent was quite tragic though; died trying to kill the man who helped him get back on his feet many times over just because of one man’s manipulation. Fuck Masema.
Rolan and the other two brotherless’ death was unjustified but I can’t blame Perrin for killing him. Adrenaline pumping through his veins and he sees 3 men standing between him and his wife. It was bound to end in blood. However, while Rolan was a bit of a creep at times he didn’t deserve to die like that after helping Faile. Now that I think about it though, he was sort of trying to steal her from Perrin, Rolan’s death was inevitable.
Tam finally learned that Rand is the dragon reborn, after I think around 3 years. I would have expected he would know by now, but I guess the two rivers is notorious for being secluded and only getting information from peddlers.
Perrin and seanchan captain has a quite nice mutual respect for each other, another bridge to seanchan relations has been built.
After all these deaths, failures, and triumphs, Perrin and Faile are finally reunited! I am interested to see where the story goes with them, maybe they will go after Masema?
Mat
Mat is always an enjoyable read, and now he has accepted that he can’t escape his luck and the battlefield, Mat now just tries to work out a way to make as little people die as possible.
I have to talk about Moiraine first of course. She is confirmed to be alive, which I hoped for and expected. However, didn’t expect it to take this many books. I have been waiting to long for this, I missed her so much and I am excited for her to be back hopefully soon.
Mat and Tuon are my second favourite couple so far, after Nynaeve and Lan, they have a great dynamic!
From the start Mat knew that he would marry Tuon, but she was slowly deciphering whether this man was truly who she would marry. She did ask many seemingly random questions which was a big giveaway. The build up was worth it though, she completely confuses Mat by doing it out of the blue and revealing her prophecies from her damane. Hilarious moment!
I feel Tuon growing on me but then I remember that she agrees with slavery and leashing those who can channel. I am conflicted on her, but maybe she will change. We have a love-hate relationship.
Mat, please just go free Moiraine already. Please.
Rand
While he hasn’t had the spotlight for a few books, his chapters are always full of major plot points and revelations which are always great.
Lews Therin is creeping in like a parasite, taking control of the power and Rand even confuses his thoughts with Lews Therin. One lack of control and that could be it for Min or others around him. Disturbing thoughts.
One minute I was watching a lovely wedding between Loial and Erith, the next there is thousands of trollocs outside the window. The juxtaposition is crazy.
The new weaves are really powerful, it can’t be nice for random dead trollocs to appear outside your house though.
Did Semirhage expect to defeat Rand? I think there is some other plot she has. Semirhage went down too easy for that to be her only plan. Potentially trying she is trying manipulate his allies to go to the shadow. Or like many of the forsaken are just arrogant.
Hoping that Rand gets his hand back, I loved Rands swordplay and It will absolutely cause issues. Surely he can use the power to create a fake hand.
Breaks my heart, to see Rand so calm after all he goes through. Poor guy. Cadsuane needs to teach Rand to feel again and quickly!
Seanchan truce incoming. Rand will now see what Mat has been up to while he has been battling the forsaken.
Egwene
Thoroughly enjoyed her political manoeuvrings around the white tower, slowly planting seeds of dissent between the different layers of aes sedai. Egwene is great at scheming and manipulation; she is a genius. Not the best person though.
I have a lot of respect for Egwene. Multiple strappings a day, and she carries on twisting the aes sedai, what a powerhouse!
Egwene is consistently interesting to me, I think she will play a big part over the next few books.
Elayne
Elayne was great late in the book, while lacking a bit at the start.
She was overconfident this book, just because she won’t die any time soon (min’s viewing) doesn’t mean she can’t be captured. It was very reckless to just burst into the BA’s house and expect to live.
I loved Vandene getting her revenge on Careane, what a way to go, her short storyline was amazing. Amazing but tragic.
I found it weird how an aes sedai sent by Elaida just stormed in, said Elayne would regret sending her away and ran off. There had to be something larger going on with her.
Problem after problem kept pilling up, but she dealt with them with resilience and it somewhat worked out. A true queen if I ever saw one.
Other
Rand has caused a whole civilisation to kill themselves. Let’s hope he never finds that out. This was a really horrifying moment, left my mouth open for a while.
Taim is not a forsaken, but just a very high ranking dark friend it seems. He must be very high ranking to know about the lord of chaos. What if he is a newly raised forsaken? Only the forsaken know about the lord of chaos, not regular dark friends. I don’t know how one would raise a darkfriend though, does it come with new abilities or just being closer to the dark one?
RJ is great at the small details however he doesn’t touch upon the slavery stuff, which I find weird. Could just be me though.
Overall
This book ends so many dragging storylines, I can’t wait for the next!
I’m sad this is the last Robert Jordan book, but I’ve heard that Brandon ended it well, I watched a few videos on him and read his eulogy on RJ and he seems very kind and admires RJ a lot. I don’t know how his writing style is though, maybe someone can give me an idea of how it compares to RJ?
It is tragic RJ couldn’t finish his series by himself though, but glad someone was found to finish it.
just don’t mess up Nynaeve Brandon!
I probably missed a lot of plot points but I didn’t want this to be too long, and I want to read the next book already.
Book ranking so far - very susceptible to changing:

1. The Shadow Rising
2. The Fires of Heaven
3. The Lord of Chaos
4. The Dragon Reborn
5. Knife of Dreams
6. The Great Hunt
7. The Eye of the World
8. New Spring
9. A Crown of Swords
10. Winter’s Heart
11. The Path of Daggers
12. Crossroads of Twilight

I (25M) matched with a girl (24F) on hinge. We were texting each other once every day or so for just over a week then organised to go on a date. The date went great - she did mention that she has accounting exams coming up soon with her job so she was going to be busy the next couple of months. But we both had a great time and I had no doubts we wanted to see eachother again after the date - she even gave me her umbrella to take home as it was raining and she got a taxi home.
We continued texting once a day - finding out more in common and I mentioned that I’m a fan of Mexican food and she said she is too and she said that could be our next date idea. She then asked when I was free and I booked a restaurant (2 weeks after the first date as she was busy due to a family wedding the weekend after the first date). She also mentioned that as it’s September now, it’s go time in terms of revision.
We met up at the restaurant and the date went fine, again no doubts and lots in common. She mentioned that due to a health condition she doesn’t like to drink alcohol when it’s super hot so she ordered a mocktail instead with her food.
We then went to a rooftop bar afterwards which I’d booked as the weather was really warm. When we got to the rooftop, the girl said it feels hotter up here than it does downstairs (which it did) and she asked me to push a button on my side of the table (I think she assumed it may have been connected to a fan). But when I pushed the button the outdoor heaters turned on which was quite embarrassing and the people in the bar started laughing. I laughed too but it did throw me off and make me feel awkward. The girl did apologise to me and them and was laughing too.
But we sat down and continued chatting - I felt the conversation wasn’t flowing as well due to the awkwardness but there were no awkward silences. I ordered a cocktail but the menu was a little limited for mocktails - I did ask her if she wanted to go somewhere else but she said don’t worry it’s ok. She ended up just having water.
Once i finished my drink, she said she’s going to head off so we walked to the train station together - we didn’t stay at the rooftop for very long. I was still feeling awkward as the last part of the date didn’t go how I’d hoped but I asked if she wanted to go out again and she said yeah definitely so I gave her a quick kiss and said bye.
I messaged her on instagram while I was on my way home and just gave her my phone number and said let me know when you’re home.
She texted me that evening and said ‘hey thanks for dinner tonight - honestly next time you have to let me get the bill! It was v good to see you again. Hope you got home okay x’.
I replied that Thursday evening and said ‘hey no worries it’s all good, but you’re organising the next one’. She then reacted to that message with a little heart on Saturday and said ‘how’s your Saturday been, sorry for the late reply been super busy my sister is visiting😂’ - she did mention that her sister was visiting before we went on the second date. I replied on the Sunday with general convo. She replied on the Monday as usual, being communicative, telling me about her weekend and all the things she did and also asking me more about what I was doing. She also said ‘so not a productive weekend in terms of revision😭’
I replied on the Tuesday, making general conversation again. I didn’t hear back from her on Wednesday, Thursday (which was when I started to get anxious) or Friday. I assumed she had a busy week with work and revision so I’d hear back Friday evening. I also noticed that at some point after the second date she changed one of her prompts on her hinge dating profile - a small change from ‘give me travel tips to Thailand’ to ‘give me travel tips to Miami’. She didn’t update any pictures or anything else and as we’d only been out twice I’m guessing this is normal? She also mentioned on the second date that she’d booked her Miami holiday.
I still didn’t hear back from her and then made a massive mistake Saturday morning and sent her another message which said ‘if you weren’t interested why not just say. You’re a bit of an arsehole to say you wanna go out again, pay and all that then just ignore me’. She responded an hour and a half later and said ‘I wasn’t trying to ignore you - I was genuinely busy this week. But you calling me an arsehole is so uncalled for and tbh I don’t want to see someone who’s going to call me names so I’d rather just call it a day’. I called to try and apologise but she didn’t pick up so I messaged ‘I get you’re busy with exams. Like I fully understand that but it takes 2 seconds to say hey I’m busy right now I’ll get back to you. Tbh it comes across like you’re not interested and a bit rude. So I’m sorry I called you an arsehole but I called you as I wanted to chat to you quickly’. She replied and said ‘sorry missed your call - I’m out. Yeah fairs I get that but the exams are my priority. I feel like I’ve said what I need to say and think it’s just best if we leave it here’. I messaged again trying to sort it out but she didn’t reply. I gave it three weeks and apologised more sincerely and she said it’s all good no hard feelings but she’s got a lot on right now so she doesn’t think it would be best to give it a second chance. I said if it’s the exams I don’t mind if you wanna speak again after they’re all done, but she didn’t reply to that message.
I reached out again after a couple months as I saw her on the same dating app and her profile was updated with new pictures and she said she just doesn’t see this going anywhere and good luck with everything - she then blocked me. I’m assuming she was finished with her exams by this point.
I fully understand that I was completely in the wrong with the way I reacted and I’ve learnt the lesson and won’t ever speak to anyone like that again - I regret it so much because I could see myself liking her and she honestly seemed like the most perfect girl, although we only went on 2 dates and spoke for a month. But do you think it was me calling her an arsehole that caused her to end it (completely valid if so) or if she just wasn’t feeling it before this and I gave her an easy way out?

Previous diary entry here: https://www.reddit.com/buffy/comments/1cuyf6k/rewatchers_diary_season_2_episodes_15_to_18/
The last sprint to the finish line: I Only Have Eyes for You (2x19), Go Fish (2x20), Becoming (2x21-2x22).
Man, I Only Have Eyes for You is such a beautiful gem of a composition. Go Fish is less bad than I remembered it (but still bottom-tier), Becoming FUCK YEAH!
I Only Have Eyes for You
It's the Sadie Hawkins dance and the gender roles are reversed—on BTVS, of all places ;-)
Xander suggests it's the brain child of a hairy-legged feminist and Cordelia is upset not only at losing her privilege of having her date pay for the date but also at having the tables turned all the way around and having to be the one who has to pay. Man I love the anti-chemistry of Xandelia.
But all is not well: Sunnydale high is haunted by the ghost of a student (James), whose romance with a teacher (Grace) was broken off by her. He responded with a murder-suicide which he is now reenacting. This is the mystery of the week.
The emotional significance is that Buffy identifies with James: she feels she betrayed and murdered Angel, unleashing Angelus. Her inability to kill Angelus in Innocence led to Jenny's death in Passion, which Buffy feels guilt about.
The punchline is Buffy and Angel(us) reenacting the ghost story, with Buffy in James' shoes, Angel surviving Buffy's murder attempt and preventing Buffy-as-James' suicide. Grace forgives James and says she never stopped loving him, the ghosts depart, Angel is back in his Angelus form who runs off.
Also, the final reveal: Spike, driven more crazy by Angelus, has been overstating his incapacitation.
I frigging love this episode.
I think Buffy's big change is her acceptance that Angel is dead, and that a demon (Angelus) has taken up shop in his body. It walks and it talks like Angel but it's no longer him. This has to be it, because the ghostly reenactment basically says that the Bangel love is forever and is still there even if Angel isn't—and yet, Buffy is more resolved and determined to kill Angelus than ever. This only makes sense if she's distinguishing between the two, i.e. if she's accepting that the man she used to love is gone.
The ghost story is beautifully tragic. The resolution, Grace's forgiveness and the departure of the ghosts, is such a heart-warming relief. And Buffy sorting out her feelings is wonderfully bittersweet.
Giles being distraught by the loss of Jenny, to the point of him not thinking straight, is heartbreaking. Metaphorically Giles is Buffy's mind, making it very fitting that Buffy's resolution is about sorting out her understanding of the Angel/Angelus distinction.
I noticed a thing: during the triangular binding spell we have Buffy at the center of the action, with Willow, Xander and Giles Cordelia supporting her, a motif replayed in Primeval (4x21).
If we understood the metaphor in Teacher's Pet (1x4) we learned that student-teacher romance means the teacher is preying on the student. Here it was... well preying is the wrong word, but here it was the student harming the teacher. I feel this might dilute the message of Teacher's Pet; this episode could've been a bit more on-brand with a line or two with the message that it's not uncommon or shameful for teens to have feelings for 20-somethings—but, if reciprocated, it's inappropriate for the older person to act on those feelings. The tie-in between James/Grace and Buffy/Angel would be perfect, the social commentary would be more to my liking, and I think the social commentary I want is on-point for BTVS. Heck, if you peel of the big S2 metaphor, I see a 16yo girl crushing on a ~26yo red flag, with disastrous consequences. The social commentary I'm calling for is the whole bloody point of S2, so why not reinforce it here? Maybe it would dilute the "awww" when Grace forgives James, like, we're meant to feel it's a sweet couple and they should get each other and that has to be an undiluted high note.
Nitpicking aside, what a gem!
Go Fish
I asked the writers for a good episode, but they said "go fish". Oh well, I guess there's plenty of fish in the sea. Let's plunge in and take a deep dive.
I remembered this as "that one really awfully disappointing episode of Buffy". This time, I found it to be merely "meh". There were a few decent comedy bits: "undercover" // "not under much" and "I'm dating a guy on the Sunnydale High swim team" // "you can die happy" #OohBurn look at the shallow Spordelia Cordelia.
There was a gender role reversal—on BTVS of all places—when Buffy walks Swimmer #2 home from The Bronze (for his protection) after he was attacked.
But on the whole... see, I kinda' enjoyed the early S2 MotW episodes, back when MotW was pretty much all that BTVS was. But now that I have tasted the Bangelus arc (again, this being a rewatch), I have lost my taste for MotWs—at least if they have no tie-in to the bigger picture. This is an episode I simply have no taste for, it doesn't excite me.
[I consider Phases (2x15) and BBB (2x16) MotW episodes with strong thematic tie-ins to the Bangelus arc: all the scoobies are dating monsters. And arguably, Passion (2x17) is about Jenny making risky dating choices, a follow-up on The Dark Age (2x8), making 2x14-2x17 a thematically cohesive run of episodes.]
Becoming
Fuck. Yeah.
Joss is such a scumbag. First he gives Buffy this great resolve and determination (perhaps after some feelings of resignation) in I Only Have Eyes for You, then he makes her waver a bit when she discovers Jenny's re-ensoulment spell. And then she gets Angel back, but it's too late since Angelus already pulled the pin on the doomsday vortex grenade, so she has to let go of him AGAIN! :(
Spike is chaotic and funny. You can always count on his loyalty, at least if you're the highest bidder, and Buffy effectively offered him his big ho girlfriend back. He's such a fool for love, wink-wink nudge-nudge.
I noticed a parallel between the trio of vampires and the trio of nerds: Angelus/Warren is the evil sociopathic leader of the group, Drusilla/Andrew has a crush on the leader and Spike/Jonathan betrays the group and sides with Buffy and the scoobies. [But also differences, of course: SpikeSilla are not as weak-willed as Andrew/Jonathan, for one. And the trio of vampires is charming.]
... and Xander brings Willow back by talking about their friendship and telling her he loves her!
Angelus talked about ascending—retro-echoing the mayor's plot in Graduation Day 2 (3x22).
Also: Angelus tried to pull a sword out of a stone (Acathla). We just went from gothic horror to Arthurian legend? Spike's reaction, "someone wasn't worthy", indicates that Angelus is a false king, not worthy of the throne of Sunnydale. He's not the real mayor so he won't ascend: while he eventually manages to pull the sword out of the stone, his ultimate fate is a downfall—he descends into a hell dimension.
The scoobies have a disagreement in the library about how to deal with Angel(us). I find it notable that it's Xander, Buffy's metaphorical heart, who responds to "I'll stop him" with "like you did last time, with Ms. Calendar"—Buffy is still feeling guilty about not having the heart guts to kill Angelus in Innocence. It's Xander who knows the location of Angelus' mansion, i.e. it's her heart which leads her to lost lover, and it's her heart which says "kick his ass". When he rescues Buffy's metaphorical mind, he (Giles) says "why would they make me see you", i.e. Buffy's mind doesn't want what's in her heart, they are conflicted. Buffy is driven by her feelings and passions now just as much as she was in Surprise when she unleashed Angelus. Once her metaphorical mind has been rescued it saves the day: she gives her regained love one last kiss and one last goodbye, then, letting cooler heads prevail, kicks his ass stabs him in the heart, breaking it, to save the day.
And some greatest hits: "nobody asks for their life to change, not really" ;; "what's left?" // "me" ;; "you hit me one time with an axe" ;; "have you tried not being the slayer?" ;; "you're expelled".
Becoming is peak Buffy.

The old family home stood at the edge of town, its once grand facade now weathered and worn by time. The town's whispers about the house had reached my ears many times throughout my childhood, but I had never given them much thought. Now, standing before the creaking gate that led to the overgrown path, I felt an inexplicable urge to discover the truth.
I had inherited the house after my great-uncle Nathaniel passed away, a man I barely knew but whose presence seemed to linger in every corner. The dusty heirlooms and musty bookshelves hinted at a long and storied history. It was a history I intended to uncover.
The first few days were uneventful. I spent my time clearing out cobwebs and sorting through old papers, most of which were mundane—bills, letters, old photographs. But then, tucked away in a hidden compartment of Nathaniel's desk, I found a bundle of letters tied with a faded red ribbon. The letters were old, the paper yellowed and brittle. They were addressed to my great-grandmother, Beatrice, from someone named Arthur.
The letters spoke of forbidden love, betrayal, and a pact made in desperation. Arthur's words grew increasingly frantic as he described a dark secret shared by the family—a secret that, if revealed, would bring ruin upon them all. My curiosity piqued, I read on, unable to tear myself away.
One letter in particular stood out. Dated December 3, 1923, it detailed a horrific event: a fire that had claimed the lives of several townspeople. Arthur confessed to starting the fire, claiming it was necessary to protect the family from something far worse. He mentioned a cult, dark rituals, and a promise made to an entity he referred to only as "the Shadow."
The more I read, the more I felt an unsettling presence in the house. Shadows seemed to move on their own, and whispers echoed through the halls at night. Determined to understand, I ventured into the basement, where Nathaniel's journals hinted at more hidden secrets.
The basement was damp and cold, the air thick with mildew. Shelves lined with jars of strange substances and dusty books filled the room. At the far end, behind an old trunk, I found a small door. It creaked open to reveal a narrow staircase leading further down into darkness.
With a flashlight in hand, I descended, my heart pounding in my chest. The air grew colder with each step, and a sense of dread settled over me. At the bottom, I found a chamber filled with symbols carved into the stone walls. In the center was an altar, stained with what I could only hope was old wax.
As I examined the room, I found more letters, these from Nathaniel to someone named Margaret. They described rituals performed to keep the Shadow at bay, sacrifices made to ensure the family's prosperity. Nathaniel's last entry was a chilling plea for forgiveness, confessing that he had failed to uphold the pact and that the Shadow was coming for him.
Suddenly, the flashlight flickered and went out. Panic set in as I fumbled to turn it back on. When the light returned, I saw them—figures standing in the shadows, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light. They whispered in unison, a low chant that sent shivers down my spine.
"Blood of the betrayer," they intoned. "Blood of the guilty."
I tried to run, but my legs felt like lead. The figures closed in, their hands cold as ice as they grabbed me. I struggled, but it was no use. They dragged me to the altar, their chanting growing louder.
As they forced me down, I realized the truth: my family had been protecting a dark secret for generations, a secret that had now claimed me. The last thing I saw was a figure stepping out of the shadows, its eyes filled with malevolent glee.
The pain was sudden and all-consuming. My scream echoed through the chamber, blending with the chants. And then, there was nothing but darkness.
The house stood silent once more, its secrets buried deep within its walls. The townspeople still whispered about the old family home, but no one dared to venture inside. They said the shadows moved on their own, and at night, if you listened closely, you could still hear the whispers of the past.
Years passed, and the house remained untouched, a dark mark on the edge of town. Then, one evening, a young couple, unaware of the house’s history, moved in. They had bought the property cheaply, charmed by its antique allure.
Their first night in the house was uneventful. They laughed, unpacked, and made plans to renovate. But as the clock struck midnight, the atmosphere changed. The house seemed to come alive with a malevolent energy. The husband, Peter, heard a faint whispering. At first, he dismissed it as the wind, but the whispers grew louder, forming words.
"Blood of the betrayer... Blood of the guilty..."
He followed the sound to the basement, where the narrow door stood ajar. Against his better judgment, he descended the stairs. The flashlight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. The chamber at the bottom was as I had left it, but now there was something new—a fresh inscription on the altar: "He who seeks shall find."
Peter turned to leave, but the shadows moved. Figures emerged, their eyes glowing with the same unnatural light. He screamed for help, but the basement door slammed shut, trapping him inside.
Upstairs, his wife, Emily, heard his screams and rushed to the basement door, but it wouldn't budge. She pounded on it, calling his name, but the house seemed to swallow her cries. Desperation set in, and she ran to the phone, dialing the police.
The police arrived quickly, but as they approached the house, they felt an unnatural chill. Inside, they found Emily, frantic and pale. She led them to the basement, but when they opened the door, the chamber was empty. There was no sign of Peter.
Days turned into weeks, and Peter was never found. Emily moved out, leaving the house abandoned once more. The townspeople spoke of the curse, of the family’s dark past, and warned newcomers to stay away.
But the house never stayed empty for long. Curiosity drew people in, and one by one, they disappeared, claimed by the shadows. The whispers continued, a never-ending chant of betrayal and guilt.
One stormy night, a group of ghost hunters arrived, eager to uncover the house's secrets. They set up their equipment, cameras rolling, as they ventured into the basement. The air was thick with tension, the shadows seemed to watch, waiting.
As they explored the chamber, the leader of the group, Sam, found the old letters. He read them aloud, his voice trembling. The whispers grew louder, the shadows closing in.
"Blood of the betrayer... Blood of the guilty..."
The cameras captured everything—the figures emerging from the darkness, the screams, the terror. But when the footage was reviewed, all that was visible was the empty basement, silent and still. The hunters were never seen again.
Years passed, and the house remained a dark legend. No one dared to enter, the whispers and shadows a constant warning. And yet, on moonless nights, the townspeople could see faint lights flickering in the windows, hear the faint whispers carried on the wind.
It was said that the house was a gateway, a place where the past and present intertwined, where the sins of the ancestors demanded atonement. Those who entered were lost, their souls trapped in a never-ending cycle of horror.
Then, one day, a young historian named James arrived in town. He was fascinated by the stories and determined to uncover the truth. Despite the warnings, he entered the house, armed with his knowledge and a sense of purpose.
He found the letters, the journals, the hidden chamber. But as he delved deeper, he uncovered something no one had seen before—a final letter from Nathaniel, hidden behind a loose brick. It spoke of a ritual to break the curse, to free the trapped souls.
With renewed hope, James prepared for the ritual, following the instructions meticulously. As he began, the house seemed to tremble, the shadows stirring violently. The whispers grew to a deafening roar, but he pressed on.
The final step required a sacrifice, a willing soul to take the place of the cursed. As James completed the ritual, he felt a searing pain. The shadows enveloped him, but he continued to chant the final words.
Suddenly, the whispers stopped. The shadows receded, and the house fell silent. The townspeople, watching from a distance, saw the lights go out and heard a final, blood-curdling scream.
The next morning, they found the house empty. The letters and journals were gone, the chamber sealed. James was never seen again, but the curse seemed to have lifted. The house stood silent, no longer a source of fear.
Years later, the house was sold and renovated. Families moved in and out, but the dark history remained a distant memory. The whispers and shadows were gone, but on stormy nights, the faint echoes of the past could still be heard, a reminder of the darkness that once lurked within.
And so, the legend of the old family home became a story told to children, a cautionary tale of curiosity and the consequences of uncovering secrets best left buried. But some say that on the darkest nights, if you listen closely, you can still hear the faint whisper: "Blood of the betrayer... Blood of the guilty..."

Alright Apes,
I was out walking my dog, ready to get back home to go to sleep, and then it happened. I did one last check of superstonk to get my dopamine hit that is our community and well, I got more than I asked for. Now I have too much energy to sleep because I am so fucking hyped for what I found. So here I am.
This beautiful post popped up at nearly midnight my time.
When it said watch in reverse, I had mixed emotions because one of my favorite post was the one with the opening to the White Stripes glitch mob remix. Go watch the video if you haven’t already. That’s one of my favorite songs for very personal reasons and the idea that GME was about to unleash something that caused a glitch was very exciting to me. I wanted that to be the foreshadowing that RK left us with.
But I like every other GME theory I read, it consumes me. I’m obsessed. So what the heck, let’s go watch everything in reverse.
Lucky for me I realized very quickly that when you go to the X iphone app and watch the latest video in full screen, you can just swipe up to see the next video. So, the next hour of my night was planned out.
That was an hour ago. I am so hyped about what I saw that I’ve decided to sit down and write out the my whole interpretation of what I saw. I don’t have answers for every single post but there does seem to be a theme that matches the theory that these are meant to watch in reverse.
Buckle up.
One last things before I get started. I think DFV has been here all along. I think he has read all of the DD and I think he made his memes with all of that in mind. I highly doubt he knows anything for sure but is just a fan of the DD. Just like I am. And there is one DD I fell in love with from the first moment I read it. I think he did too and this is his thesis. He has read all the tea leaves and doesn't think anyone has put it together like he has so he is sharing his interoperation of the DD, the market conditions, and the news and is going to do one last DD himself.
Ok. Here we go.
Oh, and this is not financial advice.
Ok. Here we go for real.
ET: This might actually be him saying goodbye for now. Hopefully not forever (still kinda sad we never got a ET 2).
Horse Gift: Not sure how to interpret this one. Maybe foreshadowing that he found (or was gifted) the GME bull thesis and at that point, he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing for a bad things. “We’ll see”
Coldplay Backwards: GME had to pull back for him to find the right time to get in.
Forest Running: And then it started running.
Original Sheet Music: Then he started meme. The memes were “MIRACULOUS”.
My favorite post – The White Stripes Glitch Mob video intro: Seriously, if you haven’t watched the video, go now. It’s hype af. This is the video that marks the Jan 2021 glitch. The sneeze.
MIB Kitty: And then GME became RK’s galaxy.
That’s not a Knife: He was the memelord at this point but shorties wanted his gains.
Westworld’s Bernard: Then the bear thesis’ started coming out but we can’t see what we are programed not to see. We were already programed at this point thanks to the bulleproof bull thesis.
Ocean’s Gang in Prison: And then we got thrown in a prison together when so many people bought at high prices.
Beavis and Butthead: We were obsessed with Cohen at this point. We hung on to every tweet. Sex for Dummies was a very popular one. Lot’s of theories popped up with this tweet.
A Few Good Men: DFV visits Congress!
Elaine Dancing: Is this him celebrating his gains and/or not getting thrown in prison?
Aladdin: They tried to take his gains away?
Truman > Mourinho’s In Big Trouble: He was gagged.
ASIP In Therapy: RK went to therapy and found he loved making memes and GME?
Newman: Talking about his experience as his new life as the United States GameStop memer and all the requests he was getting for memes.
Eddie Murphy: Chronicling his time as a memer
SNL The Shooting AKA Dear Sister: Not sure on this one.
Steve Wilkos: RK is ours and we are going to stick beside him
Succession: RK was reading so much about how he was the villain
Borne: More struggles with his identity as the GameStop memer and deciding what to do next.
CNBC > .50: Why does everyone hate RK?
The Dude: Not sure on this one.
Garden State: foreshadowing the jam that he’s about to get into this his next (older) posts
Every Everywhere All at Once: more foreshadowing.
Stand by Me: There’s a game of chicken going on. Shorts vs HODLers?
School of Rock: Reminding us what where here for. This journey isn’t going to be perfect but it’s Rock and Roll.
TeddyBears – Punk Rocker: He has both hands off the wheel now but he’s still along for the ride.
You Can’t Stop What’s Coming: Self-explanatory with likely last-minute cameo of the Chicago (where was Citadel founded?) BEARS thanks to the world’s most famous coke rat market manipulator.
Sicario 2: He’s asking us if we are ready to be the “villain” with him.
Flip Mode: If you really want to party with the Kitty, show him what you got (make some more memes people!!!)
The Shining: Our view of RK at work making his memes for the past 3 years.
500 days of Summer: Talking about why he does what he does. Because it’s going to last forever (more foreshadowing).
Luca: Him laughing at us not knowing everything. Just forget about it if you don’t understand, he has more for you.
Signs 1: This is where things get interesting. This is where we start seeing the signs. Connecting dots. We found something legit in all the DD.
Signs 2: The signs all pointed to GameStop. It’s all about GameStop and what they are going. Nothing else matters.
Signs 3: Are we the aliens? All of our best DD writers talking to each other were some of my favorite moments over the past 3 years. [There are theories about what these signs said and I will go back and fill that in later, I’m getting sleepy]
Signs 4: He is asking us if we believe the DD.
Signs 5: RK is one of us. Assuming we are the Aliens in these signs videos, he is telling us he is one of us.
The Modern Animal: We need to get a little crazy if we are going to take on the big city (NYC? Wall Street?)
Broad City: We made our own language. Memes. SuperStonk is a place for best friend with time to shoot.
GooseBumps: I THINK THIS IS WHERE WE ARE TODAY. RK is letting his briefcase of memes open and warning bears.
Everyone’s favorite Boss: Here some the SIGNS (memes for those who are not keeping up). He is going to his us ONE MORE TIME.
Pay Attention: NOW FUCKING PAY ATTENTION because he isn’t going to do this again.
Kill Bill: It’s time to fight and we are bad asses.
JigSaw + Kansas City Shuffle: Are you ready for the game? Because GameStop has you covered. Everything up to this point has been the inciting incident and catalyst of the Kansas City Shuffle. There is a very short scene where he says, “are you watching closely”? I saw a comments days ago that I can’t find and the very high level paraphrased version is that scene is from the Prestige and all of those hats were a result of him cloning himself. I think that represents the synthetics that plague our market. (I will find that comment that explains it better and go back to watch the movie myself and update this).
Shawshank: RK is telling us all it really takes is pressure and time to break out of their prison. While he was in prison, he went back to get his financial education. We also need an activist (investor, RC). There is a lot more nuance we can try to extrapolate form this one. I’ll save that for later.
Radiohead Karma Police: They have run the price down far enough. They have been leaking gas this whole time. It’s time for the match to be lit.
Neo: This is where Neo figures out how to work the matrix. The market is fake and everyone is mad. We all know it. When it comes to the market, we all took the red pill, and we see it for what it is.
Bullet Scene: Might need some help deciphering this one. I think it’s about how we (maybe not us but the general public) perceive the market. We see cause and effect but that’s now how it works. I think he is telling us that we don’t fully understand the market but our instincts are right and we just feel it. I think we as a community have that instinct.
Fury: Every boss is going to feel like the last one. They are going to pound us with misinformation, price manipulation, and anything else they can come up. But they are just taunting us to whoop some ass.
Trueman Show: They are going to hit us with everything they have but HOLD ON!
Me, Myself, & Irene: Them tanking the price is going to change how we feel and who we are.
Red Right Hand: Might need some help with this one too. The red hand man is stalking someone and the other person can’t do anything about it? Not sure who is who here.
Beat Saber: Might need some help with this too. Is he calling all freaks to show up because we are about to go to war?
Keith and Jake SNL: Everyone thinks Keith is crazy lol
Seinfeld: Calling out the memestock docs for being stupid. He had to some back and tell everyone to “Shut Up Bitch”
Shut Up Bitch: He delivers his best line to the people making him out to be a Vilian.
Coffee Mug Breaks: He is asking us to convince him to do it again.
Bane: RK is saying everything is going as planned.
Oceans (again): RK has been waiting for this time and it was all part of the plan.
Snoop: There was so much drama at GME. People had to be fired because they were someone dressed up as something else. Moles?
Spiderman: It’s time for Keith Gill to become Roaring Kitty again.
Pizza Slices: Guy on the left is a shorty. He is getting mad with how popular things got with the thesis and how many people bought.
Missy Elliot ft Luda: Giving us confidence that he has a worldwide audience and he is about to kill all the rumors.
In Love with RC: He is telling us that RC is the right guy. Don’t doubt him.
Guardians: Everyone already knows who is in charge. Stop fighting to be in charge.
CNBC again: Some of the misinformation actually said RK is in charge. He is not. He is busy drawing dicks (memes).
Oceans (again): I think he is saying that no one person is in charge. It took everyone to give GME all that money. Or maybe it AVOCADO-IN-MY-ANUS all along?
Breaking Bad: His side still hasn’t been told?
Fight Club: RK finally accepting he is DFV
Nice Guy: He is still a nice guy despite what people are saying.
Day and Night: I think he is talking about his struggles day and night over the last 3 years.
Dave: He could’ve ignored it all but he couldn’t stand it. He’s about to keep it real with us.
Star Wars: help me fill in the blank on this one.
Ozarks: help me fill in the blank on this one.
Grim Reaper: The hedgies are trying to figure out what is going on with GameStop. They are I a holding pattern and will be coming with more hitman when what happens in the rest of the tweets goes down.
*******This is where shit gets real********
The Prestige: Alright. Put your tinfoil hat on tight. Here is my interpretation of this one. The magician makes something disappear, but the audience wants to be fooled so we are not actually looking for the secret. So, when something disappears we don’t clap because it’s not as impressive. But as soon as it comes back, the fights is on**~. I think the NFT marketplace is going to come back~**. But I think it’s going to come back as something else. I think they built the blockchain infrastructure for something other than the NFT marketplace. That is when shit is going to go crazy. Don’t believe me, keep reading.
Brand New GME: They finally embrace what everyone has been calling them. They show up one day looking sexy as fuck and blow everyone’s minds.
Prisoner: And now the prisoner (GME’s true price) has true FFFRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDOOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMM.
The fallout: The hedgies are going to beg us to sell our shares at 14 grand but the nature of us is pure CRAZY. We all knew who was calling on the phone.
Parking Lot Killer: That is who was calling. They are coming for the bears.
Requel: And just like that the requel begins production.
Old Computer Game: Now the question is, with this brand new, sexy af version of GME are we selling or are we staying? I think it’s going to be so fucking amazing we “>Stay”
Kittyman: When this all goes down, RK will return again.
How did they do it?: GME (or we?) seems stupid but apparently whoever it is really good at paperwork and the RK is so happy he’s doing backflips.
What do they need to do it?: They are going to need all of us and the target is up. HODL.
Kingsman: Shorties will then be locked in the room with us and they are going to come in fierce numbers.
The Town: They need our help we can’t ask questions but we have some sick ass rides to get there with.
Morning Affirmation Cat: Help me with this one. I’m tired.
Troy: Sick ass scene. GME just needs to land the killshot.
Pikey Reaction: They pulled the price back so far that it’s a loaded spring and when the shots are fired, it’s going to be raining money. Now “come hang so we go out with a bang”. Does he have your attention now?
Stop Fighting: NOW we can stop fighting.
Pirates of the Carrabin: The Pirate comes back from the dead (NFT Market Place?) and GME presses the red button to go into hyperdrive. This solidified my theory.
Tombstone: It’s not for revenge. It’s for something bigger. It’s a reckoning. Maybe a Glass Castle?
Standoff: Now that the red button was pressed, we have all the shorties in a stand off. But it doesn’t matter because the result of the red button is going to destroy it all? DO I HAVE YOUR ATTENTION NOW?
Avenger Initiative: We have to do it together. It’s not just one person.
Sherlok Holmes: When GME says run, RUN! And remember what it’s running for. You monther, father, children, sisters, and brothers. The DOG DAYS are over.
Drive: We think were all good here right? It’s all over. Guess again. We are going to have every governmental agency coming after us and our gains. We are going to be on the run.
Bloody Blade: Help me with this one.
But First: The overture. This will be how it starts. We must go backward to unlock the secret. Once we do, the dragon wakes up and it’s game on for the game of thrones. We are going to break the wheel.
Still Here: It’s done when we say it’s done. This tweet closes with the song from the whole days evil cept being blown up with green fire. Sick.
Thanos: This was the actual first tweet just like the ET was the actual last tweet. He has read all the tea leaves and doesn't think anyone has put it together like he has so he is sharing his interoperation of the DD, the market conditions, and the news and is going to do one last DD himself.
Hope you were sitting up in your red chair and paying attention.
Apologies for any typos and poor formatting. I've never made a post like this and I'm too tired to figure all of that out. I'll come back tomorrow and clean it all up with that and fill any gaps you guys help me out with.

I thought I’d add a trip report for Universal Studios Japan as I found some of this detail was hard to find online (e.g. the opening time!) My husband and kids (aged 8 and 11) visited USJ on a weekday in mid April.
Tickets: All purchased through Klook without any problems. Printed at home to save the hassle of flicking through four passes on my phone every time. We bought the 7 Express Pass which was worth every cent. We also bought the Early Entry studio pass, designed to let us in 15 minutes early. That wasn’t entirely accurate, see paragraph below!
Entry times: We had read online that the park opens an hour before the posted time. Not today! The posted time was 9am, and we turned up at 8:15. The park opened at around 8:40. At this time, the regular lines and the Early Entry lines opened all at once. But it was still definitely worth buying the Early Entry pass, because the lines were much, MUCH shorter. If you’re using an Early Entry pass, just show the attendants when you turn up and they’ll direct you to the Early Entry lines.
Super Nintendo World: We had already reserved an entry time for Super Nintendo World at 10:50 through our express passes, but we didn’t want to wait. We checked the app as we walked in at 8:50, and we could get an entry time to SNW at 9:10. We went straight there, lined up, and they let us in 15 minutes early! We found the same for all of our express passes too: They would allow us in at least 10 minutes earlier. Perhaps it’s because it wasn’t a particularly crowded day (still crowded, but not a weekend or holiday). In brief, SNW is everything you’ve seen online, but so spectacular in person.
SNW power up bands: We bought these at the first kiosk, but should’ve followed the advice online and walked further into the area. There were power up band kiosks with no queues inside. We didn’t really get much value for money out of these: the kids had fun hitting the blocks and coins and interacting with them a little on the rides, but they couldn’t be bothered to wait in the long queues for the more elaborate games. There’s a big challenge which requires playing several games to collect keys to enter a boss level. It probably would have taken an extra hour or two, but we were ready to go on more rides.
Jaws: We went on this next, but there was no need for a fast pass as the queue was very short. It was entertaining enough despite being in Japanese. We would have preferred to ride the Hollywood roller coaster; our 7 express pass had that as an alternative to Jaws, but unfortunately it’s currently closed.
Minions Mayhem: This was the best 3D movie ride I had ever been on (until we went on Soaring at DisneySea!). Both are excellent. The intro videos have English subtitles; the main 3D movie ride didn’t, but there wasn’t much dialogue. Very fun, enjoyed by all. Walked past the other Minions ride, Freeze Ray Sliders, but looked like a version of spinning teacups, not worth the ever-lengthening queue times.
Mario Kart: Koopa’s Challenge: Probably our favourite ride for the day. It’s a combination ride / 3D movie / interactive experience with virtual goggles – worth every bit for the express pass, and worth the queue if you don’t have an express pass!
Yoshi’s Adventure: Very much a young kids’ ride and can be skipped! Even our kids looked bored. There are good views, but not much that you can’t see elsewhere. (As an aside, the two best views of the not-yet-opened Donkey Kong Country were found at the peak of the Flight of the Hippogriff rollercoaster, and on the Tempozan Ferris Wheel which we visited the day before.)
Flying Dinosaur: Our 11-year-old doesn’t like extreme roller coasters, but our 8-year-old was unsure as she has liked some bigger roller coasters before. We decided that my husband and I would ride it while the kids watched (and took videos, hilarious) and we could tell her afterwards if it was too scary. DEFINITELY too scary, haha. I love roller coasters, and I closed my eyes in parts. I’m so glad I did it, but it’s not for the faint-of-heart.
Jurassic Park meet and greet: We happened to walk past as the dinosaurs were coming out. Cute for the kids, but not worth structuring your day around. I wish the Jurassic Park log flume ride was open, but it’s currently still closed.
Waterworld: We queued for this 20 minutes before show time, but we needn’t have bothered, as the seating area was huge. They were still letting people in as the performance began, and none were having trouble finding seats. We could have chosen the front row, but we sat slightly behind the ‘splash zone’ so we wouldn’t get wet. Sitting higher up afforded a better view too, but views would have been good from anywhere. The plot was simple enough to follow without understanding Japanese – fun and good for a long rest for our already tired feet!
Hogsmeade: Utterly stunning, all of it: The shops, the food, the performances (singing frogs and magical beasts turned up regularly). We ate at the Three Broomsticks, which appeared crowded with a long queue, but with an app to order, it cleared quickly enough. There were plenty of empty tables out the back, with a view across the lake to Hogwarts! My kids had wanted to try butterbeer for so long, but it was sickly sweet, like bubbly maple syrup. It was quite difficult to find a place to dispose of the rest of the drink so we could take the souvenir cups home, but eventually we just dumped the contents in the bathroom sink.
Interactive wands: These were much better value for our kids, and they took part in five of the seven interactive spells before exhaustion hit at the end of the day. The first (wingardium leviosa!) was not being managed by staff, so it was hard to get it to work. It had about a 50% success rate. The later ones were all managed by very kind and patient staff (who also happened to speak excellent English) who allowed each guest to keep trying until it worked. It meant the queues were slow-moving, but most were short enough, and my kids were happy to wait while they watched others attempting the spells.
Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey: We were so excited for this one, but it scared both my kids a bit! The 8-year-old because of the giant dementors (both on-screen and big animatronics), and the 11-year-old because the chair actually tipped a really long way back and forward. She was worried we would go right upside-down, but we didn’t. It was a lot more intense than we had expected. I really loved it, but be careful if you have sensitive kids.
Flight of the Hippogriff: This is a pretty tame roller coaster, and I’m not sure why people would queue two hours for it. The kids loved it, though. One warning: my six foot tall husband had to be moved to the front row as his legs didn’t fit!
Minions Mayhem again: We noticed on the app that there was only a 10 minute queue for Minions Mayhem, so my husband and 8-year-old had another go. A 10 minute queue means no queue at all, as it takes 10 minutes to walk through and watch the intro videos. We checked the app, and all the more popular rides still had huge queues, so decided to call it a day.
All up, we were there from opening to 6pm, and were utterly exhausted by the end of it. Plan a quieter day for afterwards, if you can! And we were very jealous of the people staying in the hotel right by the park – in hindsight it would have been worth the extra packing and unpacking to shift to that hotel for the night before and/or after.

Hey,
​
This is gonna be long-winded and probably incoherent, but I just need to get this off my chest and if you have any insight regarding why it's constantly happening to me I'd love to hear it.
I consider myself a pretty introverted guy, but I've generally had no issues talking with girls and getting dates, more so recently of course, since I've been growing more comfortable in my own skin. I'm definitely a romantic, I never understood the attitude of guys that treat girls like trash, that just doesn't compute in my head. If I love something, I'm going to take care of it to the best of my ability.
I think we have all had that experience of "the one that got away", well mine was no different. The girl I met when I started uni was special, she was drop dead gorgeous, completely my type, witty and cracked jokes like I would, we finished each other's sentences, we had the same ideas and ambitions. Everything was going great, I was on cloud nine and I never even thought about this like that, but this girl made me think that she's the one I'm gonna marry. We were celebrating new year's at a mutual friend's house and we hooked up, it was phenomenal. Literally 2 days later she ghosts me out of nowhere, I panic. I reach out to talk to her face to face to see what's going on. She obliged reluctantly and word for word said "I'm sorry it's not going to work, you are too good for me".
Now, I've had my heart broken a few times by this point, but this... This was devastating.
I went to a dark place in my own mind, stopped talking with everyone, started doing drugs and generally engaging in self-destructive behavior. It was really hard accepting the fact that my best was never enough for her, I blamed myself constantly, I cried dozens of times alone outside. Whenever a song came up on the radio that reminded me of her my whole mood changed, even if it was jolly prior. I generally am able to keep a cool and straight face when I'm around family as I never want to talk about my own problems, mostly because I know that if I do I will fucking meltdown so I steer clear, I never want them to feel sorry for me, but even they thought something weird was going on and kept asking me questions.
It took me a good 3 years to accept what happened and start trying to move on, as you can imagine my confidence was shattered for that whole time and my self-worth was at an all time low. I started dating again, but not to find love, I don't believe in that anymore, just for sex and to feel wanted. I would tell girls what they wanted to hear, hook up and bail. Hell, sometimes they only wanted sex too, that was optimal. If I didn't get intimate with a girl on the 2nd date I would just look for someone else, I never wanted to put in any effort into actually cultivating anything meaningful or fulfilling. I would always feel like shit when I would pump and dump, because deep down I know what I was doing and that it wasn't me, but I also craved the satisfaction. Looking back, I was definitely perpetuating my own trauma.
Now, I used mainly dating apps, sometimes just start texting people I knew. But a few weeks ago I was at the supermarket and just on my phone walking, when some girl just ran in front of me at speed and knocked me off balance for a moment, she just glanced back at me and I saw how pretty she was, it sent a shock down my body. She was hurrying to get some beer, which I respected and admired. When we were on our way out I approached her to talk to her, told her she caught my eye and asked for her number. She gave me the digits, but she was so flabbergasted it was really funny and cute. We went on a date the next day, she's amazing, we mesh so well together. She's smart and responsible, takes care of her parents same as I do, we found a lot in common. I was thrilled, I never approached anyone like this and the time I felt that I had to do it - it paid off in a big way. I was falling for her and she was for me.
We went on dates, we had fun, talked and walked a lot. I bring her lunch to work, flowers sometimes. She was celebrating a sister's birthday one evening and I had taken her from the place to her apartment, she said she wanted me to stay the night, so I did. It was glorious, we both had a great time.
After that she ghosted me, she doesn't text me first anymore. I have to show all the initiative now, whenever I try to set up dates she's busy. To be fair she is pretty busy, she has 2 jobs and she's one of those people like me that don't pull out their phone when hanging out with someone, just not that attached to technology which I really vibe with. She spends a lot of time with her family, she has sisters and cousins that are all the same age and they hang out in the evenings at her place or at her sister's place and I trust that she's not lying. I've met her cousins, they are all really sweet. But I just feel like she's lost interest in me, I keep trying to get something going but her response times are getting longer and longer.
Honestly I've never seen a switch flip so suddenly, it's like she's a different person now. We used to be so intimate, not only in a sexual way but she would sleep on my chest, hug me in her sleep, squeeze me and not let me go, now she barely gives me any attention. It feels like I'm a burden on her right now. She told me that she has always had trouble with relationships because she's so busy with work and it never worked due to this, but I also feel like she could make time for me if she wanted to, but just chooses not to. I feel like I'm about to get my heart annihilated again.
I don't want to lose her, she made me believe in love again. I truly love this girl and want to build my future with her. I keep fighting the urge to reach out to her and try to make it work, but I think that pulling back might be the best play, however painful it might be right now.
Why is it that always when something good happens to me it never lasts.. Always disappointment after disappointment. What is wrong with me?

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

Boyfriend, Male from Australia, 23
Me, 23 Female from the Philippines
3 weeks before this incident happened it was our first month together officially, he works in AUS and i live in the PH. So far so good we are happy we celebrated our 1st monthsary on facetime, he is also a Filipino. He was waiting for his citizenship ceremony but he said it takes 4-6 months for the date of when you are to pledge (he wants to come home his hometown:Philippines and visit me).
3 days before he completely ignore me we were face timing, always updates each other and on monday i asked him about his dad bc he was going to apply for a return visa but his documents are with his dad and his dad didnt allow him to have it, but i told him to ask his brother to use his dad's laptop or whenever he comes home from work he should borrow his dad's laptop for him to get his needed documents
Then Tuesday comes around he usually calls me and updates me during his break time even for a bit but that time he didn't i told him that he should have messages me even though he was online on both instagram and facebook messenger.
Then wednesday and thursday comes around he keeps saying he is busy but he always says goodnight in advance and i love you but when i confronted him he told me that he was thinking while he is at work about the citizenship pledge but it would take another 4-6 months of waiting and he really really wants to go home and after he said that he ghosted me, I can't send messages on imessage, i got muted on instagram dms and facebook messenger (ik this bc whenever i try to call him he doesnt pick up). I cried so much because i don'nt know what he meant by that? He said in the beginning of the relationship he would wait and he can do LDR he would assure me so much because i was hesitant to try ldr again.
I tried emailing him but im not sure if he reads my email.
Help me idk what to do mh heart feels heavy, do i even have a boyfriend still?

My mom (51F) has recently been snooping around in my stuff and I told her that she needs to respect my privacy. I (18F) live with her alongside my brother (20M). We both have been living with our parents up till now, aside from our father (64M) who has been absent for the most of it. The reason I’m writing out this rant is due to the fact that my mom and dad have been preaching about how me and my brother have to be more responsible of our actions around the house (such as cleaning, taking out the trash, etc.) but they literally stop us from cleaning our own mess. To give a clear example of this, my brother had once accidentally lost his grip on a glass of water and it flew onto the floor and shattered; as my brother was trying to pick up the shards and clean his mess, my mom immediately stopped him from doing so and told him that he won’t be able to do it properly, lo and behold my brother brought up that our mother can’t keep preaching responsibility if she doesn’t let us do even the simplest task around the house. This angered my mother and led to her victimizing herself, ranting about how much she has done for us and this is how we repay her kindness.
On the other hand, I have recently turned 18 and have been searching for part time jobs to fill up my summer schedule and start learning how to control and spend my money, with this being said, I have asked my dad to ask his friends to let me into the job market because where I live it’s not easy finding a job as a teen, and if it was easy I would’ve been hired and working right now. My dad has been doing everything in his power to make sure that I DON’T find a job instead. He is not asking his friends about it and keeps covering it with the excuse of “oh my friends wouldn’t know” when I know that’s a lie because he has so many connections that it’s quite impossible for one of his friends to not know about the job market in where I live.
These are just 2 examples but to give even further context, after I finished my exams a few days ago I was welcomed to a surprise in my room; my mother had went through all my stuff and had emptied it out onto my desk. I felt as if my privacy had been completely invaded and later on she kept on asking me about the stuff that she had found in my bag and why they were there. Side note: I had nothing to hide because I don’t vape, smoke, or engage with any of those activities for her to act like she’s caught me red handed. This made me even more mad but I couldn’t communicate my feelings with her, she always finds a way to make herself the victim and manipulate me into feeling bad for her.
With this being said, I haven’t really held a conversation with her in these past two days and today when I went to make myself lunch because I was hungry, she told me that she won’t tell me where she’s storing the ingredients I needed because she doesn’t want me to have lunch at that time. I genuinely feel so pressured and restricted in this household and don’t know what to do next. I have considered talking to a counselor, but to do that it would mean that I need to ask my parents for the money (which they likely wouldn’t give to me for counseling). I really don’t know who else to tell this to so I’m putting my perspective on here in order to see if I’m being right at least.
Edit: just to clarify, in order to find a job where I live (I don’t live in a western country), you really do need to get into the job marketplace through the connection of someone else

Re: PODCAST: How to Spot a Lazy Manager
I'm telling ya, other than trying to rip off as many people as possible and get as much work out of them, and do the least amount of effort themselves, I don't know why Hagwonites bother. And I don't know why foreigners care more than the people who own the place and/or will be working there 10 years from now.
It reminds me of George Costanza's frustration with his lazy boss Mr. Kruger. You can see the YouTube clip here. Bust your rear-end for what? So it can backslide back to square 1 as soon as you leave and the new person replaces you? You're not helping the place advance, you are helping it idle in neutral.
See if this sounds like your experience at a Hagwon.
1. One: they blame low performance and turnover on employees.
--And every other mistake as well. The students are total brats? That's your fault. You don't teach the lesson absolutely perfectly without training? That's your fault. Kids are bored? That's your fault. A child pokes another child and mom calls about it, again --your fault.
None of these managers actually manage. They give irrelevant or no training. They institute no discipline plan all the staff, students, parents will agree on. They often give not enough material to teach the class, ALL OF THAT falls on the hands of the foreigners. Imagine that, a place that's been open for 5-10 years still hasn't taking point on all these issues, just push them off on the foreigner and go back to gossiping about how terrible the foreigners are.

• Great minds discuss ideas.
• Average minds discuss events.
• Small minds discuss people.

BTW, I'm not an owner of a company, I can discuss people who should be discussing ideas.
2: They look for quick fixes to complex retention problems.
--That's more than true. I declined to accept a 2nd contract by being offered slightly more money, about double the vacation time, and move up to head teacher. Why didn't I accept this promotion? Because everything I said the entire year was totally ignored, the pay wasn't enough to put up with their stupidity. The vacation was totally bogus because we had to threaten a mutiny just to get 2 extra days due to break between semesters. Why would I trust them to give me more when they didn't honor the ones in the 1st contract. Search Bar: Mutiny. Also, they harassed the head teacher out of a job, why would I then stick my head in the guillotine after they dragged the body away by the ankles?

But wait there's more!

That's the end of that link, but you and I can identify so many more issues.
3. Physically / Intellectually a bad example for everyone.
I don't know about you, but I don't respect slough-offs and idiots. The person that SHOULD Be working the hardest is the person who owns the place. Did you ever see the video of Elan Musk sleeping on his sofa in his office at the production plant? Yeah, really. The billionaire owner is there to field problems as they come up instead of being called at home and have to drive in at 2am. He suffers more and works harder than anyone there.
Some dumb-butt that owns a hagwon said on here one time,

I don't do make employees do anything I wouldn't do

You are supposed to do what your employees do and 10x more than that! You're the owner. This is your livelihood, it will destroy your life if it faulters. You have to pay off employees with severance, pay back loans you probably can't pay off, reduce your living space, sell off assets to survive. You put all your eggs in this basket, it HAS to work, why are you putting the outcome in the hands of people who have no skin in the game?
I don't respect boneheads who should have their educational chops figured out by this point. They should have taken notes and improved themselves as each semester rolls on by. Why are the same problems recurring every semester or every year such as the Halloween or Christmas event, you did the same thing a year ago!
4. Doesn't know your job description.
Not only does a lazy boss not educate themselves about what education is, they have neither bothered to know what teachers actually do. Sure, they scowl through the window or monitor on CCTV, but do they know what they are looking at? Almost certainly not. They tend to focus on the most inane "violations" to give themselves and everyone else the false impression they are REALLY on the ball here, nothing slips past their scrutinous eye on quality and detail! When in fact, they reveal themselves to not only be an obnoxious pest, but clearly don't even know what teachers do every day. I've had to tell more than a few in-class and CCTV observers that the things they are bothering with are so miniscule I question whether they have even taught anyone anything before in their entire lives? It's like me storming in on a mechanic, "I gotcha! I see you didn't grease those fittings!" Then they tell me that is done AFTER the breaks and wheel has been fixed and reassembled. I just exposed myself as not knowing what I'm talking about.
Hagwon management and owners don't realize how much time it takes to do the tasks they are demanding because they've never had to do them before. Sure, waive your hand and expect this or that, but a) they don't know how to do it themselves. b) we are not holding out on them with a Mary Poppins bad of lesson plans. We don't have a quick fix for their ideas. c) it takes research, editing, time, contemplation to add something that perfectly match a class's level. Management and owners think it only takes about 30 minutes to throw something together, when in fact it could be 2 hours.
5. Boss is too lazy/stubborn to solve problems.
"I'm the boss. I say, you do. That's the end of it, now get to work, no back-talk!"
If you work in any place like this, the boss is trying to avoid being exposed as a fool. They know if they throw out instructions and ideas, they will get shot down as not knowing round holes don't accept square pegs. To avoid a face-losing situation, they avoid communication at all costs. If every idea is idiotic and everyone knows it, they lose stature and the decree will be considered untenable. If the boss demands something runs and hides under their desk, the chances that the smarter people will get together and somehow make it happen is much more likely. Really, poor or no communication can be interpreted as, "Just make what I'm demanding from you happen, and don't ask me, I have no idea how to do it or I'd be helping you do it."
6. No goals.
--Every day is Groundhog's Day with lazy people. Nothing ever improves. The latest freak-out due to procrastination, poor communication, poor judgement, lack of materials, poor training is just a temporary peak until it is resolved, a lull in the action happens, then another peak or freak-out occurs in a frequency that drives everyone crazy. You just had a blow up last semester about a certain issue, it seems to have gotten through to everyone, but yet here we are again the next semester facing the same SNAFU we thought we already settled. Nope. Lazy people get lazy, let things backslide, then get caught with their pants down time after time. It's like a captain of a ship that sleeps at the wheel until he has to wake up and right the ship before it capsizes. There are no goals for improvement, only maintain just enough to do as little as possible to maximize more time for laziness.
7. No boundaries.
--"Eh, they can do it at home if they don't get it done during the day." The boss is too lazy to prioritize proper workloads. If work exceeds the scope of your position, there is no time set aside during the normal work hours, then your boss has not taken the time to contemplate what your job is, what you agreed to do in your contract, has not taken steps to cut the fat and keep the lean meat. They over-sold expectations to parents, undersold expectations to foreigners. They have no idea how long it takes to finish tasks, nor even if the task really needs to be done in the first place. More is always better according to Hagwonites, even if it's useless/pointless busywork.

For a single moment everything went calm after I told her fuck it idk if I’m sick anymore I’m gonna fucking help whether you like it or not. She’s got what she wanted and we actually started working together. Fucking peace over health any day, honestly idk if I’m going to not get end it so future doesn’t really matter to me right now.
We start cleaning throwing away old useless shit cleaning out the dresser to go to the basement. Everything seems perfect once again. Then it happens….
We took a break it was maybe noon or so. I made myself a sandwich and planned to take a stab at the electrical next (it had been years but I was fairly good at electrical so swapping switches and outlets would be easy. I picked one up and investigated it (new style not some shitty mass pitches for house wiring) okay easy enough it’s identical set up just outside looks different…. Then it happens…
I hear yelling, my wife screaming about how if she’s the problem then she’ll just leave. I’m so confused everything was going perfect why now wtf happened I just want come peace and calm.
My mom was crying ( this is something I’ve never seen before) I was floored and scared I rush out and try to calm the situation down but my wife has already stormed out the door. I turn to my mom WTF just happened through the tears I just hear “I’ve just had it I can’t stand this anymore.” My wife calls me starts ranting about how she needs to get out of here. She left her keys and needs me to get them to her causes she’s not going back in. I grab them go out and ask WTF is going on she rambles about she fucked up and she went too far. And leaves.
I come back in and try to talk to my mom, at this point two firsts she’s crying and now beside herself. Then starts talking about me in the hospital and pushing myself and …. Then…. Dad. It all hits me at once. In just a week will be the 9th year without dad. She’s sick with sadness and worry cause I go and nearly get a brain infection the same week my dad passes 9 years prior.
We sit down and talk, 30 minutes go by and no wife. My mom decided she isn’t in the right mind anymore and chooses to leave before getting into another fight. Turns out the entire fucking 4-5 days my mom is up here my wife was just non-stop shitting on me. Everything I do is wrong and MIL added too it. All this going on without me even noticing.
I walk outside and let MIL know wife had stormed off. My mom gathers what’s left of her dignity and composure. Says good by and leaves. MIL callswife said it’s best if I don’t. Spends 30-40 minutes on the phone. Then she comes home. After all of this I just said fuck it and kept playing with the kids and working the best that I could. I’m rewriting a switch when wife comes back.