How to write a patient referral letter

THE 2000 YEAR OLD MAN (1975) - FULL TRANSCRIPT 2000 Year Old Man is an old Brooks-Reiner comedy routine turned into a half-hour animated TV special. Reiner, a TV reporter, interviews Brooks, a man claiming to be 2000 years old. The interview consists of a serious of questions regarding the history of the world. Brooks' answers to Reiner's questions are priceless.
About four days ago a plane landed at Idlewild Airport.
The plane came from the Middle East bearing a man who claims to be
2000 years old.
He spent the last six days at the Mayo Clinic.
Ei, sir.
Sir, is it true that you are 2000 years old?
Oh boy.
-Yes. -You are?
It's hard to believe sir because
in the history of man nobody has ever lived more than 167 years
wich a man from Peru claimed to be.
But you claim to be 2000?
I'll be, not yet. I'll be 2000, October 16th.
You will be 2000. When were you born?
We didn't have formal years and names and writing.
We didn't know. I see.
Nobody kept time.
See, we didn't know.
We didn't write. We just sat around, pointed in the sky
and said wow hot there wow.
-That's all they said? -We didn't even know it was the sun.
You really didn't know anything.
Anything, we were so dumb.
We didn't know who was a lady.
-But they were... -They were with us.
But we didn't know who they was
we didn't know who was the ladies and who was fellows.
You thought they were just different type of fellows.
Yes, stronger or smaller or softer.
The softer ones I think was the ladies all the time.
What about that? How did you find out?
Well, they are cute, a fat guy,
could you could have mistaken him,
soft and cute.
Who is the person who discovered the female?
Bernie.
Who was Bernie?
Bernie, one of the first leaders of our group.

• And he discovered the female?
• Yeah.
  
• How did that happen?
  
• Ladies, ladies here.
  

I'm very interested to find out how Bernie discovered the woman.
-Well, he... -How did he come to find?
One morning
he got up smiling. So he said:
I think there is ladys here.
I said, well, what do you mean, you know?
He said: 'cause in the night.
I was swelled and delighted, see?
So he went into such a story that
it's hundreds of years later, I still blush.
Could you give us the secret of your longevity?
Well, the major thing.
The major thing.
Is that I never, ever touch ripe food.
I don't eat it.
I wouldn't look at it and I don't touch it.
And and I never run for a bus.
There's always another.
Even if even if you're late for work.
You know, I never run for a bus.
I never ran.
I just stroll, jump it, slowly walk to the next bus...
Yeah, well but there were no buses at the time.

• No, in my... -Right.

In my time ahnn...
What was the means of transportation then?
-Mostly fear.
-Fear transported you? -Fear yes.
You could see.
A lion, he would would growl, you would go two miles a minute.
I'd like to find out about some social customs
the origination of social customs.
For instance, singing how that started?
Oh it stems from fear.
-Could you explain? -Because in the old days,
I said old days.
I don't mean the georgian cars.
-Did you.. -I mean rocks and caves...
I'm asking you, sir, how song...
Some song came about when you really had to communicate.
-But in trouble you couldn't say help. -Yes.
But have to use your mouth.
Yes, I know.
Hello.
-I mean, I wouldn't say help, I say good morning.
Yes. You're really...
you know you in trouble.

• But somebody said eeeh eeeeh. -That was the first song.
  
• I don't know.
  
• In other words, fear, right?
  

I was singing.
We thought happiness did.
Oh, and the song came out of it.
A lion is eating my foot off.
Somebody call a cop.
A lion is eating my foot off.
Somebody call a cop.
A lion is eating my foot off.
Somebody call a cop.
A lion is eating my foot of
Somebody call a cop.
Very interesting to hear the derivation of songs
The first songs,
the first songs were all the anthem songs.
We always thought...
We always thought...
Wanna hear an anthem song?
You had an anthem song?
We had a national anthem.
-What was the anthem? -Well, ah...
you see, was only fragment...
-Fragment? -It wasn't a nation.
-Yes. -It was cave, each cave. Yes.
Each cave had a national anthem.
You remember the national anthem of your cave?
Ok. I say I'll never forget it.
You don't forget a national anthem in a minute.
Let them go to the hell
except cave 76.
For instance, how did the custom of two people shaking hands
how the handshake come to be?
The handshake? As you know...
I don't, that's why I'm asking!
The handshake has also stemmed from fear.

• Everything seems to stem from fear.
• Of course.

Everything we do is based on fear.
-Even love? -Mainly love.
How can love stem from fear?
How can love stem from fear?
What do you need a woman for?
You know what you need for?
-In my time? -Yes.
To see if an animal is behind yourself,
you had to get eyes in the back of your head.
you take two eyes that is to be a lady.
I see.
You say, lady, you look behind me for a while.
And that was the first... the first marriages.
What if you take a look behind me ok?
How long you want?Forever, we are married.
You walked back to back to the rest of your life?
Yes. You only look at her once in a while,
when you knew you it was safe?
When I knew I was in a highground.
-The handshakes they started how?
-They started to see if the fellow had a rock
or a dagger in his hand.
Where is you hand? Hi, Charlie.
How you're doing Jumpy, where is you hand?
Then you open it and you look...
And you shook another one.
And that's the way the handshakes started.
Yes, the shake.
May have a stone or a marble to stick in your eye.
In the older days
you should get a snap and all.
How the dancing started?
-Dancing is the same thing. -Fear again?
Just fear. The only thing you could do with a hand
was to see if there was a rock or a marble
or rubber band or nail or something that would stick in your head.
Right. Ok.
But while imobilizing my hand
dancing gets to complete the imobilization.
Dance and keep the feet busy so he can't get you.
Yes, but I think most people are interested
in living a long and fruitful life.
-You mentioned? -Fruit is good food, you mentioned.
Fruit kept me going for 140 years once
when I... was on a very strict diet,
mainly nectarines, I love that fruit
half a peach, half a plum, such a hell of a fruit.
It's not too cold
Not too hot, you know, just nice.
-What if... -A rotten one?
That's how much I love. I'd rather eat a rotten nectarine than a fine plum.
-What do you think about? -I can understand that.
Yes, that's how much I love them.
-Yes, I can understand, sir. -Some good things.
What did you do for a living?
Well, many years ago, thousands.
There was no heavy industry.
We know that.
Most things that we manufactured or we made,
most things we ever made,
was we would make a take a piece of wood
and rub it, rub it and rub it and rub it
then clean it and look at it and hit right with it
and hit a tree with it.
-For what purpose? -Just to keep busy.
There was not. There was absolutely nothing to do, had no job.
What other jobs were there?
Must've been something else besides hitting a tree with
the knowledge, hitting a tree with a
piece of stick was already a good job.
You couldn't get that job.
Mainly was sitting and looking in the sky
was a big job
and another job was watching each other.
-And what language did you speak? -They spoke...
-Rock, basic rock. -Years before Hebrew.
Yes. 200 years before Hebrew was the rock language, the rock talk.
Could you give us an example of that?
Hey, you don't put that rock on me.
Hey, what you do with the rock?
Do you remember you remember your Hebrew sir?
Yes, I would just I think I remember fluent...
Because I understand the modern Hebrew is different from the...

• Yes. The difference in some of the

-phonetic alliteration paterns. -Yes.
Can we hear an example of the ancient Hebrew?
A very ancient Hebrew is...
Oh, hi there, hello.
Hello there. How are you.
-Hi. How are you. -That's English.
-Oh wait, wait. -You remember any Hebrew?
Very little.
I don't think I remember.
I must have forgot a great deal of it.
-I think you forgot it all. -Maybe all, yes.
Maybe all. Thousands of years since I needed it.
Now, sir, did you ever...
Did you ever have any formal job as we know it today?
Yeah, well, I was a manufacturer. I was owner.
What kind of a factory did you have?
I had a I used to make the star of David, Jew stars.
Making a little money?
Where's that? Yeah.
Soon as religion came in, I was one of the first in that.
I figured this was a good thing.
How did you make them? Did you have tools?
Well, we didn't have a lady.
I employed six men each with a point.
They used to run together in the middle of the factory
A great speed, it was huge.
They were making a star.
Yes. We would make two a day because of the many accidents.
Six men running and... you know.
Lots of accidents.
You never thought of going into anything else?
Oh, no, I had an offer once.
-It came to me. Simon. -What Simon asked you to do?
Said he had a new thing, a new item,
a winner, looks like a winning item.
That was gonna be a big seller is called a cross.
And I looked at it and I turned it over
and looked in all sides of it
and I said, it's simple. It's too simple.
I didn't know then. Element.
-I didn't know with such a -You turned him down?
and I said, I'm sorry, but I'm too busy.
See, I could have I could have fired four men,
two men run together, bang, that is a cross.
Would say that I would I would have earned
over a hundred dollars doing that crosses and everything.
Yes, certainly.
Do you have a few moments, sir?
What do you mean? Money or the time.
No, we have to cut way for messages now.
-Okay, let's do it. Is it in English? -Yes.
By the way, sir, are you married?
I have been married several hundred times.
-Several hundred times? -Yes.
You haven't, man. Do you remember all your wives?
-One I remember well. -Which one was that?
The five one, Shyla.
I remeber her well.
I'm afraid to ask the next question, you had many hundreds of wives...
-Hundreds and hundreds. -But how many children you have?
I have over forty two thousand children.
And not one comes to visit me.
It's awful, sir
well, sir, it's really you mean to say there isn't one daughter...
there's many daughters, but, but they
you know how they are, children.
Good luck to them, let them go.
I don't want listen, let them be happy as long they're happy
I don't care. But they could send a note
write how're you Pop how you're doing Pop
you know, they don't.
Sir... ahn, you must have known
some great men in your time, you did travel to...
I knew the greater and the near greater.
Can I ask you about some of these...
Certainly, I'll tell you the true
the true whether I knew or not.
For instance, people are people are
very interested in somebody like Joan of Arc.
A lot has been written about her, we read a lot...
Aah what a kiss.
You knew Joan of Arc?
I went for her, damn it, I went for her.
Nowhere in history do we know of Joan going with it anybody.
Well, they don't print everything.
You did marry her? No.
No. I didn't marry her because she was on a mission.
she used to say to me
she used to say to me, I've got to save France.
I should say I look.
I've got to wash up. You save France.
See you later after you save France. I'll wash up, you know.
-How did you... -Hold it, I... yet.
How did you feel about her being burned at the stake?
Terrible.
I didn't I didn't know.
Sir, how about some of the legendary characters
who supposedly might have existed?
For instance, Robin Hood.
-Did he...? -Oh, yeah. Lovely man.
Ran around in the forest.
Did he really steal from the rich and give to the poor?
No, he didn't.
He stole from everybody and kept everything.
Out of the legend?
Out of the legend let's bring up that
he had a fellow monk, hired a press agent
running all the paper and roll and scroll.
He takes from the rich and gives to the poor, who knew?
You knew you took such a knock in the head
when he robbed you wouldn't knock him down.
-In other words... -A tough guy.
I hate to have our legendary figures smashed
Well, I hate do smashing for you.
So much to discuss, for instance,
-somebody like William Shakespeare -Oh what a pussycat.
-You are saying that you knew -A pussycat.
You did know it, for instance
Oh, that little beard, that cute hair...
He was reputed,
I guess you are agreeing that he was the greatest writer of all times.
Oh no, hey, hold up he was small.
What you mean? You just said he was great.
-Oh boy!
-And I said he was great... -No sir.
A cute man and a pussycat.
William Shakespeare was not a great writer?
Not good writer at all.
He wrote 37 of the greatest.
Shakespeare was not a good writer, no.
He wrote 37 of the greatest.
Would you ever see the original the first folios?
You mean they were edited by someone else?
Never mind the edit, did you see the folios?
No, I never saw them. Did you see?
I saw that folios, your wanna see how they are?
A blast...
A 'm' you know that look like a 'D'
an 'M' didn't look like an 'M'
I know that is a 'V'
Every letter was cockeyed and crazy.
Don't tell me he was a good writer.
The worst printmanship I ever saw in my life.
What he did? He did as it was reputed,
he did write 37 of the greatest plays of...
-38! -I only know 37.
Would you care to look at this list sir?
These items are listed come down to the ages.
-You know one that should be there? -Yes.
What's that?
Queen Alexandra and Morris.
Is there any copy of this unexistent?
This is a play that I put invested money in.
Probably the only one that didn't come to light.
Come to light and closed in Egypt.
Sir, you remember...
you remember any of the dialogue of Queen Alexandra and Morris?
Queen Alexandra turn to Morris and said:
Oh, Morris. What could it have been that I have seen?
Is it not in my marrow or we not have one on ourselves?
And he would say to her:
What are you hollering?
What are you hollering?
-Sir, what... -Wake up the whole castle, you know.
Sir, what did you do 2000 years ago to entertain...
-Walk and wing. -I want to know wether...
-Were there comedians -Oh sure sure, we had.
You remember any of the... 2,000 years ago...
A matter of days, let me see.
I remember one comedian gave us some laughs
while we were hysterical.
Well, who is he? Some good laughs.
Murray the Nut. He gave us a laugh.
A tiger came in the cave one afternoon.
Soothed in uninvited naturally.
Nobody asked how a tiger did walk in.
Tiger came in and Murray, you know, the joker
the tumbling, you know, the Nut
jumps at and grabs the tiger by the tail
yahaa, yahaa, yahaa...
and the tiger turn around and ate him in a minute.
and we get histerical laughing and laughing.
Best joke we ever had.
Oh sir, that's not very funny.
That was all we have, our chaos then that was all we have.
Terrible, I would consider that...
Have to pass me out, Murray took the tiger.
-That was entertainment? -Yes.
I would consider that in the realm of tragedy rather than comedy.
It's a point of view, to me tragedy is... is
if I cut my finger, that's tragedy.
It clinch and I cry and I run around
and I go into Mount Sinai for a day and a half.
I'm very nervous about.
And to me comedy is if you walk into an open sewer
and die, I like that.
Comedy I say.
-My finger is important. -Yes
In the 2000 years you've lived, you've seen a lot of items.
Certainly.
What is the biggest change you've seen?
In two thousand years the greatest thing mankind ever devised
I think in my humble opinion is saran wrap.
You can put a sandwich in it.
You can look through it. You can touch
you can put over your face and fool around and everything.
It's so cool you could wrap up
-You would ate it? -I love it,
put three olives in it and put a little one.
can put ten sandwiches and make up this.
-Whatever you want, It's clean and it sticks with.
-You equate this with... -You can look right through.
You equate this with man's discovery of space?
That was good, that was good.
-Sir, we ah... -Yes, yes.
We have to take time out for message now.
Why do you have to take time out?
You take the message, I'll keep talking.
That was a good message.
Well, sir, if we don't have too much more time
but we all here would like to know your code.
Well, alright, is this it?
A farewell? -A farewell address.
Hello there. This is 2000 years talking to you
from the depths of back there when we was
now I'm still and they not and I just want to say
keep your smile on your face.
And stay out of a Ferrari
or any small Italian car.
stay out of them. I wanna tell you that it's been
it's been a wonderful two thousand years
and you've been a wonderful civilization
and it's been a thrill living for 2,000 years
and eat a nectarine, is the best food ever made.

Hey guys, today is my last day alive. I am sitting alone in my empty apartment that I’ve lived at for 2 and a half years. Everything I’ve ever tried to accomplish has failed. I have insane amounts of debt and owe the IRS a lot of money. I am 27 years old. I’m not going to lie, a lot of what’s happened is my fault. Destroying my credit was my fault, not paying my taxes was my fault, defaulting on rent and being depressed was my fault. I spend most days laying in my walk in closet on the ground in the dark. I feel alone in life and I don’t have a family that understands me so I barely talk to them. They’re narcissistic and weird and try to force religion on me so we just don’t talk. I miss my ex girlfriend also that I moved here with and it’s not like I want to be with her but I regret ever being mean to her. She ended up developing schizophrenia and when I kicked her out of the apartment legally she chose not to go with her parents and just got raped by a bunch of guys back to back and that shit still fucks with my head a lot. She’s like a shell of who she used to be and I just wish I had been more understanding and patient with her. Besides that I feel so financially ruined and far behind that I don’t have the willpower to even try to “catch up”. I went from making $7000 a month to just laying here starving most days and crying. I’ve given all of my things to a friend to hold because he thinks I’m moving in with him (he’s a very nice dude and like family to me) and I gave my cat who I love very much to the girl that brought her to me to watch because she thinks I’m just moving (I’ve been crying about that all night too). She asked me where I’m moving yesterday and said “the cemetery” and laughed and she laughed but she didn’t realize I was serious. Also I don’t believe in seeking “help”. Every time in my life I’ve ever said I was suicidal I got the cops called on me and they would detain and institutionalize me and the doctors would load me up on weird drugs that had all kinds of side effects like invega and seroquel and make me worse and actually feel “crazy” (I’m traumatized from that). It’s hard to even put everything in writing because so much has happened in my life. I feel like I’m 100+ years old with all the experiences I’ve had. I feel bad because I know a lot of people are going to be hurt and not understand but I really can’t take it anymore. I knew life was hard but I didn’t know it was this hard. This isn’t like self hate either, this is like opting out of all the bullshit and not participating anymore. Tbh I look in the mirror and I love who I am and how I look (not to sound arrogant) but it’s just like life in general. I pray whoever is reading this never gets to this point of feeling this alone and broken. I feel trapped and I need to get out. In 2018 I cut myself 100+ times in one day deep to the point of being able to see the bone in my arms and I lost all feeling in my wrists for years. My roommates found me in the kitchen in my own blood after I went on a bender and even back then it was over money and financial stress. I feel extremely misunderstood as a person. I don’t have love in my life. I’ve lost everything. Even my Tesla (don’t hate on me for that it’s a cool car lol). But yeah I just feel like a huge fucking failure and I wish I could’ve played everything different. Like I said, a lot of what’s happened is my fault but I’m just a fucking human dude. I’m not perfect like I tried to make everything work the best way I knew how. Anyway while packing and cleaning my apartment the last thing I found was a razor blade.

So I am 37(M) and my mother (73) before she passed away on 24/12 /23. The thing that happened was that my mom ended up, having health scares one after another last year. So essentially it was first when she was told to get minor cataract surgeries, this time of month last year and both her and me were busy with her tests and later surgeries in June, July. Since she had Care insurance, she applied for her cataract surgies claim - earlier both got approved for 30k each for both surgies costing almost 50k each but then suddenly they backtracked & said one claim was rejected as place where we got surgies done, was blacklisted later. Now the single 30k claim should have been deposited, right. But nope, it still stuck & since my mom later got diagnosed with stage-4 kidney cancer in September which really shocked both me and my mom as my mom's tests have always been decent, we couldn't follow up more than couple of attempts & instead got focused with dealing with the cancer situation. Irrespectively, I got her on keytruda immunotherapy asap as surgeon couldn't operate till it was reduced and my mom was indeed reacting very positively to the treatment despite some issues with side-effects. However despite my best efforts, my mother suffered a brain stroke and I had to take the difficult decision of taking her off life support while dealing with another care insurance tantrum where they rejected her icu charges when she was admitted as I rushed her to hospital while having a brain stroke. In short, I ended up paying almost 1lakh out of my pocket and still had to pay additional 2.5lakh for further processes which was further complicated by my narcissistic sister who was only around to get her inheritance & making my life hell so I had almost no time to arrange the amount as I had only 40k left. Thus I unfortunately withdrew funds from my mom's accounts (I am Nominee & had her credentials though I also refunded them once I had a more stable mindset & recovered from fevemy learning disability med issues throughout January). Either way, I initiated the Maharashtra govt ppo closure (I had refunded the amts taken from pension accounts prior to initiating paperwork) by Jan end & also approached local cbi home branch for also closing my deceased father's family pension to my mom. The branch manager directed me to this problematic deputy branch manager to whom I did admit that I had to withdraw funds from my mother's pension accounts but I have refunded them once I gathered resources(basically my sibling & family members are useless besides the fact that my sister has indulged in some criminal offenses like harassing me & my mom both before & after her death, etc while said family members did nothing besides ignoring my complicated health issues as I could have died the day my mom passed away). Since my mother also took 3 online FDs earlier in 2023, the deputy branch manager wanted me to break them & told me that individual account won't be closed & only her CIF would be directly deactivated. Also it was only few months for FDs to maturity & state govt pension closure was yet to occur - I told her that I will file for death claim settlement once state govt pension is closed & excess pension is recovered by them as deactivating the CIF will make this troublesome & a legal case. So she agreed to wait till state govt pension is closed and I gather all necessary documents in the meantime. Luckily state govt treasury did close the ppo & withdrew excess pension by 19th March while I also managed to transfer most of the mutual funds where I am Nominee. However since state govt treasury office (it's in another city from where I live & reasonably far), didn't give me letter of closure/confirmation - I was asked to wait for 1 month by local treasury officer (as financial year closing was approaching) which I informed to said deputy branch manager again. During this time, I also had to deal with legal paperwork as the lawyer my mom knew, didn't inform her or me to register the will, my mom made & also wasted my time in March. So I had to look for other ways to inherit one immovable property (my sibling holds 16.66% share and I have 83.34% as per my mom's wish to inherit the property as per her will), one problematic mf scheme transfer which I accidentally botched by editing Nominee details (still not sure as my mental health was seriously impaired in Jan/Feb & I also have same scheme, so not sure how it happened as there's no email confirmation except for an otp I found though I am not sure why I would update nominee details when I am already nominee there & even mentioned in will). Since UTI rejected both of my transmission claims so I am waiting for my current lawyer to complete the gift deed & apply for heirship certificate at municipality for filing my deceased mom's ITR. Also please note that despite timely updates to deputy branch manager, she let the FDs renew without my permission & has been acting dubious besides acting very rudely with me. So situation is,

1. I have filed compliant with cbi bank (or rather couple of them as again, I wasn't informed properly nor received proper feedback from bank plus despite calling customer care for almost 7 times, most aren't clear in their instructions as some mentioned different email-ids to complain to one asking to file a complaint with branch itself but I am not sure as branch manager said nothing despite my confrontation with deputy branch manager happening in front of him). Now I will be collecting the FDs physical certificates from branch & wait for resolution as said deputy branch manager is very suspicious(like asking me to file false FIR for missing online FDs physical certificates which I never had & whose online receipts I already have to also blaming me that I didn't tell her they were online while she wasted time & made me do a Rs500 stamp paper indemnity bond with additional documents like death certificate, AadhaPan, etc or saying there will be penalty for breaking autorenewed FDs that strangely got renewed on maturity dates without any prior indication & some things not adding up with new scheme plus the whole confusing me with different instructions & false claims all the time). Though luckily I have recorded the conversation with her first blaming me then backtracking once her fault was found. Also I atleast managed to travel to the distant city for closing state govt pension bank account & it was transferred to my savings account (it's at same problematic home branch) on 3rd May & de-activated my mom's CIF. So as bank resolution will take additional 15days to come(customer care first said 48hrs & now saying different), should I approach branch with resolution & LHC to minimize further problems despite being Nominee.(there's an error in relationship in cbi's savings account where my name & details are there but relationship is daughter instead of son but I already made Rs.100 self-affidavit as per dubious deputy branch manager instructions & all other documents including death claim form).

 

1. Applying for my mom's final ITR is necessary & I have already submitted most financial statements to my CA to compute including the TDS deducted on the FDs since I have been given July-end deadline. Plus as my mother & me spent more than 10lakh+ for her cancer treatment, I am hoping that I will get some deductible relief on her final itr besides tds. The issue is that I am still lacking any legal heirship document that will allow me to register as assessee for filing my mother's ITR. I did ask another bank where I am also nominee for mom's account, for issuing bank letter confirming Nominee details but they refused. However hopefully as I am going to execute a registered gift deed with help of my new lawyer that will mention my mom's unregistered will, I am hoping it allows me to register for the ITR. Otherwise I will have to approach local municipality office for issuing surviving family membeheirship certificate once gift deed allows me to initiate transfer property to my name.

 

1. There are still some untransferred assets such as a SBG linked to my mom's account besides the UTI scheme that's linked to same account(for uti, I already have most paperwork ready except that they asked for legal document that confirms relationship between me and my mother so while I can submit my passport copy though feeling it's better if will gets registered during gift deed process as it's mentioned there). Then there's the care insurance claim associated with same account & taken by bank officials of same bank yet it came to my attention that Care apparently messed my mom's name multiple times while issuing the policy & the claim hasn't processed as policy name & bank account name don't match (it's only a difference in middlename and could have been conveyed to my mom when she approached them multiple times). I did ask my lawyer regarding this & as amount is only 30k, he has asked me not to think about claim as for now as Care doesn't seem sincere as they haven't given it in writing that they will issue claim if I submit LHC/Registered Will with other documents. So while I will get SBG once I close the account & also uti mf scheme (hopefully), I am not sure if I should file a consumer case against Care (as an employee even misbehaved with my mom & the claim situation feels really fraudulent) or just hope that Care would honor the claim once I submit the documents.(they also only mentioned sending documents over email so again felt weird)

 
Overall all these incidents have seriously affected my health and frankly I need a break for myself as I am still struggling with my grieving (I saw my mom die 3 times & the family drama still triggers my cptsd though I am not suicidal or having med issues unlike in Jan besides still unable to take some personal time off due to these commitments). I also apologize if this post ended up too long or having details all over the place as I am still trying to piece together as much information I have as I do have written journal records of the paperwork & events that occurred though I forgot to list down some details here & there due to trying to manage everything by my own.

Your answer was...
"That is not true."
Last week, I caved to my own insecurities and made sure to remind you that you are cared for. You see, people wired with our particular kind of neurospicy will often either lack emotional permanence, or maturity, or suspect people are running around with ulterior motives.
You did question why I did that. I did that because, despite the infrequency of our communications these days... I still feel you. Your reply also included how very not ok you are currently - which just proves that I can feel you just the same as always. I wish I could have just sent you "I know" and show you the letter I had written the night before. I'm still here, just as I have always been... and I do understand better than you think. Chaos fairy almost went to the beautiful place nearest you this morning, just to be a little bit closer, and to watch the sunrise surrounded by beauty. You also apologized in that text. I don't need you to apologize, I need you to remember that if its too dark in your head, I'm waiting at the top of that pit of darkness with the rope.
Yeah, I want to hang out. We don't even have to process what you are going through if you don't want to. We can be ridiculous and fun. I will protest only on the inside that....you will have to process the thoughts, you will have to feel the feelings, ALL OF THEM. Ignoring them and stuffing them down does not make them cease to exist. I know this from experience. It will be hard, but I'm only here to be the kind of friend you need to keep up your healing journey. Love is patient, love is kind... you know? I'm here, and will remain here. I will continue to reach out now and then, as you do need consistency, and I genuinely want to because you are an absolute treasure of a human being. I'm not like the others. I'm not going to chase, but I'm certainly not leaving - I'm meant to be a good friend, and good friends do not leave when things get tough. They stand by your side as a support. ❤️

Hello there! I am 20 years old and a trans guy. I have about 10 years of roleplay experience and I write primarily in third person past tense, I can write up to 5 or more paragraphs (sometimes less depending on the scene, but I also just match my partner usually!) a writing sample can be provided if you want to see it (:
I have a very detailed vampire OC I have been dying to use in roleplay for a very long time, I’ve been having trouble finding anyone interested in RPing with him because he isn’t a super typical vampire troupe type of character so I’ll give you a brief description of him.
His name is Ivan and he was born in the 1400s, originally a human who worked as a butcher Ukraine. After meeting his best friend who soon revealed themselves as a vampire to him, Ivan asked to be turned as well so they could both live together for the rest of time, but Ivan’s friend ended up getting slain by a group of vampire hunters. This sent Ivan into a spiraling depression that led to him hating his identity as a vampire and deciding to move away into the middle of northern Russia to live in isolation, trying his best to live as a “human.” He despised being a vampire and he despised other vampires as well, he turned to drinking the blood of animals that he would hunt to keep himself alive and healthy. He lived a very lonely and simple lifestyle as he tried his best to live out the rest of his long life trying to walk among humans, trying to act as one himself.
I have a lot more I could tell you about him but I wanted to keep it short and sweet so anyone interested could contact me for more! I have a few plot ideas for him, most include romance, angst, action, etc. but if you have any ideas yourself that you’d like to try out I am very willing to listen! I unfortunately do not have an image of him for reference but I do have detailed descriptions of how he looks, if you don’t mind that.
I reply somewhat consistently but due to me working full time, I am usually most available after 5pm EST !! Please be patient with replies, I will always let you know if something comes up that will hinder me from replying like usual :) Don’t be afraid to dm me! I am super friendly and also open to talking ooc as well
I prefer to roleplay on discord but discuss details up here first :-) i am still looking, so go head and shoot me a message telling me about yourself and your writing style + any additional ideas you may have. I hope to hear from you!

Hello there! I am 20 years old and a trans guy. I have about 10 years of roleplay experience and I write primarily in third person past tense, I can write up to 5 or more paragraphs (sometimes less depending on the scene, but I also just match my partner usually!) a writing sample can be provided if you want to see it (:
I have a very detailed vampire OC I have been dying to use in roleplay for a very long time, I’ve been having trouble finding anyone interested in RPing with him because he isn’t a super typical vampire troupe type of character so I’ll give you a brief description of him.
His name is Ivan and he was born in the 1400s, originally a human who worked as a butcher Ukraine. After meeting his best friend who soon revealed themselves as a vampire to him, Ivan asked to be turned as well so they could both live together for the rest of time, but Ivan’s friend ended up getting slain by a group of vampire hunters. This sent Ivan into a spiraling depression that led to him hating his identity as a vampire and deciding to move away into the middle of northern Russia to live in isolation, trying his best to live as a “human.” He despised being a vampire and he despised other vampires as well, he turned to drinking the blood of animals that he would hunt to keep himself alive and healthy. He lived a very lonely and simple lifestyle as he tried his best to live out the rest of his long life trying to walk among humans, trying to act as one himself.
I have a lot more I could tell you about him but I wanted to keep it short and sweet so anyone interested could contact me for more! I have a few plot ideas for him, most include romance, angst, action, etc. but if you have any ideas yourself that you’d like to try out I am very willing to listen! I unfortunately do not have an image of him for reference but I do have detailed descriptions of how he looks, if you don’t mind that.
I reply somewhat consistently but due to me working full time, I am usually most available after 5pm EST !! Please be patient with replies, I will always let you know if something comes up that will hinder me from replying like usual :) Don’t be afraid to dm me! I am super friendly and also open to talking ooc as well
I prefer to roleplay on discord but discuss details up here first :-) i am still looking, so go head and shoot me a message telling me about yourself and your writing style + any additional ideas you may have. I hope to hear from you!

Demographics

• Gender: Male
• Race/Ethnicity: Indian
• Residence: Massachusetts
• Income Bracket: Upper Middle Class
• Type of School: Mediocre Public school
• Hooks: Immigrant but US Citizen
• Intended Majors & Minors: Applied Math, AI, Entrepreneurship, Engineering & Computer Science

Academics

• GPA (UW/W): 4.0/4.6
• Rank (or percentile): 8/300
• Classes: 12 APs, 3 Dual-Enrolments
• Senior Year Course Load: 3 APs (Computer Science, Chemistry, Psychology) 3 Dual-Enrolments (MIT OCW Linear Algebra, MIT OCW Multivariable Calc, English), Teacher Assistant for Calculus and Teacher Assistant for AP Physics C

Standardized Testing

• SAT: 1570 (770RW, 800M)
• AP Exams: Calculus AB (5), Physics 1 (5), Statistics (5), World History (5), Physics C: Mechanics (5), Calculus BC (5), AP CSP (4), US History (4), Lang (3)
• AMC 12: 136.5 (Top 200)

Awards/Honors

• Coca-Cola Scholar (150 Selected from 100K+)
• Harvard Guest Speaker on AI & ChatGPT in Education (6K+ Listeners). The Harvard Gazette wrote an article on me.
• MIT Hackathon 3rd place winner 2x (AI Recipe Generator & AI Therapist)
• Presented at International Education & Social Justice Conference (Peer-reviewed) at University of Hawaii
• MIT LLCipher Summer Program (3% Acceptance Rate). Invited back as Guest Speaker the following year.
• Wrote Boston Globe Article on AI & ChatGPT in Education
• AMC 12 Distinction (2x) and AIME Qual (2x)
• President's Volunteer Service Gold Award
• AP Scholar with Distinction & AP Scholar with Honor
• Multiple other Math Competition, Model UN, and Marching Band Awards

Extracurriculars/Activities

• MIT Lincoln Laboratory Summer Intern: Advanced Research in AI & Networking (1% Acceptance Rate). Internship primarily for Grad and Undergrad students. Received a return offer for summer before college.
• Writer: 110+ articles on Medium with 200K+ reads. Published by the Boston Globe and other publications.
• Antarctic Research: Climate Research and Data Analysis at UW-Madison.
• MA State House Internship: Worked for State Rep. Wrote a policy brief on AI. Promoted to Campaign Manager in 2024.
• Math Team Coach & Captain: Coach students and top scorer. 4x Regional Champions (First time in history). 2x AIME qual and 2x AMC Distinction (AMC Score: 136.5).
• Students of Color Affinity Group President: Mentor students and lead professional development workshops; presented at International Education & Social Justice Conference at University of Hawaii.
• AP Physics C & Calculus Teacher Assistant: Help teach 70+ seniors at my school (ran out of classes hence TA lol).
• Model UN President: Perfect record and multiple awards at regional conferences.
• Karate Black Belt: 10+ years and help teach classes.
• Marching Band: 2nd in USBands Nationals (3x).
• Coding Instructor: Taught kids how to code in Python and JavaScript.
• Sales Head & Data Analyst at National STEM Honor Society: Promoted STEM education to underrepresented populations.
• JV Tennis: Doubles Player

Letters of Recommendation

• AP Calculus Teacher
• Math Department Head and Physics TeacheMath Team Coach
• MIT Lincoln Lab Research Mentor (MIT Alum)
• Diversity, Inclusion, and Equity Director of my school (Harvard Alum)
• Massachusetts State Representative

Essay Summaries

• Common App: During the pandemic, I found personal growth and a deeper understanding of myself and society through writing, which led me to explore artificial intelligence and its applications, culminating in an internship at MIT and advocacy work, and inspiring my entrepreneurial ambitions.
• Community Disruption: When the pandemic disrupted my activities, I leveraged online platforms to continue learning and leading, discovering new interests in AI and entrepreneurship, and demonstrating resilience by revitalizing my school’s clubs and engaging in new ventures, setting the stage for my future in innovation.
• Additional Information: Links to various articles and videos, and other activities and awards.
• Supplementals: Some were very reflective about my identity, activities, and goals in life. Others were light-hearted and quirky. They were very personalized to the school and emphasized how I fit in, what I would bring to the school, and how I would use the school as a catalyst for my entrepreneurial ventures.
• Additional Uploads: Uploaded my Resume, portfolio of Articles, and a summary of my Research at MIT Lincoln Lab.

Interviews

• Harvard (REA): Great Conversation and said Harvard would have to fight MIT for me. 9/10
• MIT: My Interviewer was very disinterested and didn't care. It was 15 minutes and he said if I don't get in then who would. 6/10
• Princeton: It was a great conversation and said he would fight for me. 8/10
• Yale: It was also a good conversation and she said she would fight for me. 8/10
• UPenn M&T: Guy kept asking technical questions and I was lost. But in the end, he said I did good and he would fight for me, even though interviews don’t matter too much. 7/10
• Dartmouth: Lady was super impressed and said if I don’t get in then she is quitting doing interviews for Dartmouth. 9/10

College Results
Accepted

• WPI (with Max Scholarship, Half off)
• UW-Madison
• Northeastern (with Max Scholarship, Half off)
• Georgia Tech for CS (Early Action)
• Cornell (Meinig Family Cornell National Scholar)
• Dartmouth
• Duke
• UPenn (Waitlisted M&T)
• Harvard (Waitlisted → Accepted)
• Princeton (Committed)

Waitlisted

• UMich (Early Action)
• Vanderbilt

Rejected

• USC (lol)
• Yale
• Stanford
• MIT (This one hurt)

Reflections:
I'm super grateful and happy with my decisions. I have committed to Princeton, and it definitely is the best fit for me. College results this year were very random, but I couldn’t be more thankful to get into the #1 undergraduate university. I was worried that since most of my application was MIT-related (Research, classes, Letters of Rec, Awards, Activities), other universities would think I was going there and reject me. College results were super random and stressful, but it worked out better than I could have ever imagined. It's funny how I got waitlisted and rejected from all my target schools (Vandy, UMich, USC) but then got into most of my reach schools.
Advice for Future Applicants:
Be authentic. There is no formula that gets you in. Sure, you have to do a couple of things like getting good grades and SAT scores and having some unique activities and awards, but especially for Top 10 schools, you just have to be unique and authentic. I didn't have any connections or background (like private school and college counselor) that provided me with opportunities. I was literally the first kid ever from my school to get into Princeton. I was authentic and hardworking, did stuff I enjoyed, and one thing led to another. I also spent a lot of time on essays and my application. 50% of the work is actually doing stuff, and the other 50% is showcasing it in your college application. Also, have balance in life. I had a lot of fun in high school and enjoyed the stuff I did. Live life with no regrets. Feel free to DM me.

Hello there! I am 20 years old and a trans guy. I have about 10 years of roleplay experience and I write primarily in third person past tense, I can write up to 5 or more paragraphs (sometimes less depending on the scene, but I also just match my partner usually!) a writing sample can be provided if you want to see it (:
I have a very detailed vampire OC I have been dying to use in roleplay for a very long time, I’ve been having trouble finding anyone interested in RPing with him because he isn’t a super typical vampire troupe type of character so I’ll give you a brief description of him.
His name is Ivan and he was born in the 1400s, originally a human who worked as a butcher Ukraine. After meeting his best friend who soon revealed themselves as a vampire to him, Ivan asked to be turned as well so they could both live together for the rest of time, but Ivan’s friend ended up getting slain by a group of vampire hunters. This sent Ivan into a spiraling depression that led to him hating his identity as a vampire and deciding to move away into the middle of northern Russia to live in isolation, trying his best to live as a “human.” He despised being a vampire and he despised other vampires as well, he turned to drinking the blood of animals that he would hunt to keep himself alive and healthy. He lived a very lonely and simple lifestyle as he tried his best to live out the rest of his long life trying to walk among humans, trying to act as one himself.
I have a lot more I could tell you about him but I wanted to keep it short and sweet so anyone interested could contact me for more! I have a few plot ideas for him, most include romance, angst, action, etc. but if you have any ideas yourself that you’d like to try out I am very willing to listen! I unfortunately do not have an image of him for reference but I do have detailed descriptions of how he looks, if you don’t mind that.
I reply somewhat consistently but due to me working full time, I am usually most available after 5pm EST !! Please be patient with replies, I will always let you know if something comes up that will hinder me from replying like usual :) Don’t be afraid to dm me! I am super friendly and also open to talking ooc as well
I prefer to roleplay on discord but discuss details up here first :-) i am still looking, so go head and shoot me a message telling me about yourself and your writing style + any additional ideas you may have. I hope to hear from you!

What’s in the closet, Kirsty?
He knew I hid a secret.
I smiled, tried to look confused.
He waited, crossing his arms.
I worried that he'd already seen. He had.
What else could he think about the pile?
His wife’s a cheater. She has another life. Another husband. Children.
He’d never believe the truth: I’m not a cheater; there’s no other life; no other man; I don’t know who the children are who visit me at night.
But I did have a secret. And maybe it’s fair to say another life, even if was smaller and against my will.
I should have destroyed those frames, burned the photos within. Now it looked like I saved them, cherished them. The truth couldn’t be farther. I feared to touch anything to do with… whatever they are…with one exception.
“It started last Halloween,” I said to George, my husband, my real husband.
He stopped packing for a moment, working out the impossibility of this statement. “I’m taking the girls to my parents.” He resumed the tossing of shirts, pants, etc. into our big suitcase.
“It’s true,” I said, but weakly. The children in the picture are at least six and four respectively. They were born six months ago.
“They’re not… my kids,” I said of the boys in the photos. They’re not kids is what I almost said.
George stopped and squeezed the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “Kirsty,” he said slowly, “there are baby pictures. I saw them.”
“That’s-”
He quickly raised his finger, exasperated, angry, done.
“The first picture is you holding a newborn, and…” He swallowed painfully, his throat gone dry. It always does when he’s upset. “And the father in that picture, with his arm around you, isn’t me.”
When I couldn't deny it, he nodded like he knew all along our marriage would end.
We were happy. We really were. George and I had managed to overcome the typical breakdown that often comes with raising children. Only since last Halloween had distance been made by me.
I should have told him as soon as it started.
“Girls!” he called as I followed him down the stairs to the front hall of our lovely home. We’d scrimped and sacrificed to buy and keep this place, our dream by the lake. He’d been so proud. I couldn’t tell him I wanted to leave the first night sleeping there.
Cara and Ella protested through play, ignoring the adults, continuing to jump on an old box they’d long since flattened. Rays from the western sun placed my daughters into an inspired, hallowed light, and I started to cry. He was going to take my babies away.
George opened the door, intending, I’m sure, to drop the suitcase in the car before returning to physically carry the girls out.
But he hesitated in the doorway.
“George?”
The suitcase fell with a solid thud on the floor. “There’s no way,” he said.
“What?”
“There’s no way,” he said, with emphasis on the last word, “you would have had time for…this…”
Not defining "this" as cheating was progress. “Yes!”
He glared, quieting my desperate enthusiasm. I wasn’t off the hook. “Tell me. The truth.”
“I can’t.”
He reached for the suitcase.
“No, not because I don’t want to,” I protested. “I don’t know what’s happening!” I sat on the carpeted steps and stared through blurred vision at my trembling hands. The shriek I’d filled the house with - “happening!” - had put a halt to the box's obliteration. Cara and Ella hesitated for a few seconds before leaping into action.
Cara, the oldest, six, punched her dad in the buttocks. “You have to be nice!”
Ella, four, sat beside me and patted my trembling hands. “It’s okay, mummy.”
Such lovely daughters. Nothing like the boys in those photos when they were this age.
George grasped Cara's wrists and gently walked her back into the house, using his foot to kick the suitcase from the swing of the front door.
"It's alright, girls," he said with weak resolve. "Go and play."
"No!" Cara shouted. She kicked at her father and he pulled her close into a bearhug. Gradually, the girls calmed and were convinced to return to the box in the front room.
"Kirsty," George said, "you have to tell me." He sat down on the step beside me. "Please." I would do anything to take away the hurt in his eyes. "Please."
"I can't. But… I can write it down. Maybe." I took out my phone. We shared Google Drive. When I made a new document, he reluctantly started his phone. The man was a dream. He watched his screen, and waited patiently for my words to appear.
Without preamble, I returned to the awful moment when it all began: a strange and disturbing dream. Words came like an infection from beneath a torn scab. The wound had been opened. Nothing could stop this now.
Sex with another man has never been a desire of mine. I love George. He loves me.
Plus, the man in my dream was a stranger, and not particularly handsome. He has a plain face set to unwavering boredom and unkempt male pattern baldness. Our dream sex felt obligatory, just something we had to do.
I awoke on the wrong side of midnight. November 1st and I was craving ice cream instead of the girls' gathered candy. The freezer left by the previous homeowners came with unopened ice cream. Freezer burned or not, I wanted some.
After retrieving a spoon from the kitchen, I intended to destroy a brick of neopolitan. He waited in his flannel pajamas, barefoot on the concrete floor. His arms were crossed.
"Cravings?" he said.
I dropped the spoon. It clattered down the basement steps. Before I could run away, he disappeared like someone had erased him from head to foot in one clean sweep.
Had to be a dream. That's what I told myself. The spoon stayed in the basement until daylight. Ghost or nightmare, there was laundry to do the next day.
I crossed the concrete floor fast and only felt safer when I'd closed the door to the more modern laundry room. Never thought builder's grade tiles and track lights would make me feel anything but sad.
His voice caught me sorting.
"Kirsty!"
I dropped the cup of detergent all over the floor.
"Shit."
I came out of the laundry room, figuring George had been looking for me in uncharacteristically rude fashion. He hated speaking between rooms. Shouting throughout the house was highly impolite. It must have been important, I figured.
As soon as I stepped onto the bare concrete, however, deep sadness, the kind that seems to physically leech the strength from your body, dominated the room.
"Hello?" I don't know why I said that. The basement is a low ceilinged rectangle. There are no hiding spots except for the laundry room I'd come from. After a deep breath, I walked briskly to the stairs.
"Any day now," a raspy voice breathed into my ear. I jolted and slipped forward, falling and clipping my chin off a step. It made my teeth click painfully. Nobody there, of course. I ran upstairs and George had gone outside with the girls to play hide and seek.
I wanted to tell him. He looked so happy. It's hard to convey in words the kind of smile he showed me through the window. Imagine contentment mixed with unreserved joy and hope. Yes, it's difficult to picture. So few of us can ever have such a moment. Sort of like finding a natural view completely untouched by humanity. Beyond rare and precious.
I’m rambling now to avoid writing about what followed. The point is I couldn’t tell him. I hoped it’d go away and stop.
But, of course, it didn’t, and things got much worse.
I awoke in a great deal of pain. Having already given birth to children, the feeling was familiar. Despite getting up and gasping, George continued to snore in our bed. He’s a deep sleeper, but a quick and early riser. I’ve never heard him complain about getting out of bed either, especially when there’s an emergency.
I might have woken him up but I was disoriented and confused. Part of me believed I was still pregnant with Ella. It wasn’t until I’d gone all the way to the kitchen to avoid waking up the girls, that my brain caught up: Girls. Plural. Ella was asleep in her bed upstairs.
“Ohhhhhhhh shiiiiiiiiiiit.” I knew the signs of labour. This couldn’t be happening. “Ohhhhhhhhh.”
I was definitely going to wake everyone up if this continued.
My phone was upstairs by my bedside table. We don’t have a landline. I should have called 911. I should have woken up George.
Instead, I went downstairs where I could vocalize pain without disturbing anyone. Such a pathetically passive response. But that’s how I was raised. Keep it down, don't you frown.
His hands seized mine as soon as I descended the last step. Serious and bald without dignity is how to best describe his physical appearance. Cold and cruel is what he is. The lights turned off and, in the perfect darkness of the basement, he was all that I could see.
He produces a red light from his body somehow but his touch is literally frosty.
"Kristy, it's time," he said. No joy there. Just straight facts. Something was coming. I was going to give birth to it. In the dull red glow of his being, the first boy came.
"His name is Hadad," the man said, placing a large, infant boy with a lot of hair and, I swear, a hint of beard, on the bare concrete. Hadad looked like a three month old they use as newborns on TV. He didn't cry. He hardly seemed to breathe as his dark eyes roamed the darkness. His light resembled the man's, a less intense red.
I felt another contraction, and winced.
"She comes next," the man said.
I felt so weak. "Who are you?" I asked him.
At last, he smiled and I wished he hadn't. It made me feel small, insignificant, and beneath his concern. "You know who I am," he said. "I'm your husband."
Pain wracked my entire body. Something didn't feel right. The birth of Cara and Ella had been without difficulty.
"Push," my "husband" ordered. "She is upset with you, and will kill you if you don't get her out now."
"It has to be a nightmare," I told him. Sweat poured in streams down my face. The unborn "she" in question writhed and damaged my insides. I screamed. I couldn't help it.
"Push!"
I obeyed and the second boy spilled onto the bare concrete, coated in blood and dust.
"It's a boy," I said.
The man looked displeased. "The body is male. She is Hebat. No wonder she is angry." Like the other infant, Hebat appeared aware of her surroundings and had far too much motor control for a newborn. The light pouring from her body was dull silver. Her eye sockets were two pits of concentrated despair. I had to look away.
The babies were pressed into my arms.
The man stretched out beside me. "Open your eyes and smile." I resisted. "Do it. Now." What choice did I have? The flash from his cell blinded me. They were all gone by the time my sight recovered. Only the sweat remained as evidence of the ordeal.
It had to have been a hallucination. Some very bad food poisoning maybe. The source could be as simple as an undigested bit of beef, a blot of mustard, a crumb of cheese, a fragment of underdone potato. I had been stress eating since we'd moved in. I stood up and took some comfort in a Charles Dickens' reference.
"More of gravy than of grave about you," I said. My words seemed consumed by the dreadful weight of the air. "Whatever you are."
Whatever you are: something bad in any case. At best, I'd hallucinated prolonged and traumatic labour and needed medical attention. Yet, when I limped up the basement stairs, all thoughts of waking George vanished. There on the kitchen island sat a propped frame containing the photograph taken only moments ago.
The man looked happy. Only Hadad appeared in this picture, which meant another one was somewhere. I didn't panic. I worried more about what George would think if he saw the photos. I had to find them all.
Hebat and his father and I were mounted in a dark wood frame by the master bedroom. It'd be the first thing anyone saw if they woke up. I plucked it off the wall and, together with the first photo, tucked it under some blankets in the dresser we'd shoved in the small walk-in closet.
You might not believe this, but I went straight to sleep after. I climbed under the blanket in my sweaty pajamas, shut my eyes, and didn't have enough time to deny what had happened. I was unconscious until morning.
George placed a coffee on my nightstand. That's what I remember. He rubbed my feet while I slowly awoke. The girls were watching TV downstairs, munching on apple slices. There was forty minutes still before we had to seriously consider getting ready to take Cara to school.
George would drop her off on his way to work downtown. He chose his hours and always chose convenience for his wife and kids. Ella and I planned to spend the morning gardening. Then we would nap much of the afternoon away until George and Cara returned. A life so perfect is so very rare.
I didn't want to spoil things with a very convincing nightmare. Besides, I felt fine. Not so good that I wanted to look in the dresser to see if those photos really were there, but not ill. So I remained silent again.
November started fine. Idyllic days and nights filled with laughter and joy and television. Just as I started to believe in the dream we'd made, they came again.
The wail of a child's hunger is a powerful call for a parent. When it's a chorus, even of two, it cannot be ignored. Only I awoke to Hadad and Hebat's cries for their "mother" from the basement.
Half asleep, I drifted into the kitchen and searched for their milk bottles. When no bottles could be found, I remembered they were newborns. Milk swelled in my breasts and made my nipples ache. Just like when Cara or Ella would awaken in the night. It was a relief to feed them.
But what the fuck was I doing?
I was acting like the man in the basement and the devil babies were mine. It'd been less than a week since Halloween and that horrible nightmare illusion. I had already taken on the beleaguered newborn mother role without question.
Their cries intensified and flayed the weak resistance of exhausted reasoning.
Don't wake George. Don't wake my babies, my real babies.
"What took you so long?" the man critized, his voice monotone, the question unrhetorical.
"I… was sleeping. I went to the fridge first." Under his severe gaze, I stopped in the midst of the dark room. Hadad had quieted. Hebat cooed as if laughing at her own joke. I couldn't see them because the lights were off. They liked the dark better. Somehow I knew that about them and him.
"You should sleep down here," he said. "A mother should always be close to her babies."
The statement was nonsense but not altogether wrong. I wanted to be close to my babies, the daughters sleeping in bliss upstairs, away from the evil fermentation in the basement.
"Kirsty," he said. "Are you listening?" His hand touched the small of my back. The gentleness surprised me. I squawked and flinched away. "What’s wrong with you? They're hungry." He pressed on my shoulders until I sat on the cold floor.
They came from the shadows, already walking. I wanted to go, but I knew he wouldn't allow it. He pulled my cat t-shirt off over my head and their fierce mouths suckled, relieving the pressure of excess breast milk quickly. It felt physically good and psychologically alien.
I looked down at them once and immediately regretted it. Their emanated light had intensified to a point where perception of them hurt.
Each time I blinked my eyes were drawn to some isolated part of their bodies. The vision got closer to the point of disgust. Everything is gross if you're close enough. There is no beauty under a microscope. If you think there is then you're not using the right magnification.
Hebat's eye drew me in. At first, I saw the dark sphere, and then the strands of her eyelashes. Her gravity kept pulling until the creatures that live in eyelashes were revealed: Demodex folliculorum. I looked the microscopic horrors up.
The babies had more parasites than any child should. They wanted to show me and could somehow do so.
I asked him about it. "Why are they showing me these worms?"
He smiled, contemptuously as usual. "Trying to impress mother. Neither of them understand your horror and insignificance. You are the ant who knows they're an ant. Lucky you. They think you will be proud of the life their corporeal forms produce and host. Give them a few hours. It will pass."
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"I'm not sure what you mean. We're married. Now, prepare to smile." His cell reappeared and I noted the lack of features; it might have been a singed rectangle of spent firewood. He frowned when I failed to smile. "Smile, Kirsty. These are your children."
I managed to stave off the tears and hold the babies close. The smile was more difficult. In the inevitable aftermath of their sudden disappearance, the frames depicted an exhausted, wrinkly woman smiling painfully. It took a second to recognize myself.
The things in the basement sapped my strength. I looked dehydrated, beleaguered. The scale in the bathroom said I'd dropped six pounds. I'd weighed myself the morning before.
"Whoa, you've lost weight," George noted, thinking I'd be pleased. "This place has been so good for us, eh?'
To produce another smile proved as draining as the previous night. "Y-yes," I stuttered too late for him to ignore.
"Hey," he said, touching my forearm.
I flinched.
"Whoa, you okay? What's wrong?"
I should have told him. "Nothing. Bad sleep. A nightmare. I'll be fine."
A lie is an agreement. George wanted to agree, I think. He wanted life to be fine because he was happy for once. We struggled so hard before we came to Bridal Veil Lake. It was supposed to be our dream.
Guilty if I told him the truth. Guilty because I didn't. I began to resent his happiness, though he had done nothing but be the wonderful man he'd always been.
To Cara and Ella I became a body in motion, No brain left to guide them away from harm or answer their questions about nature and the universe.
"I don't know." That's what I told them often.
So they began to treat me like a kind of butler.
"Can I have some juice, please?"
"Sure, sweetheart."
"Mommy, can I have a snack?"
"Of course." And I'd run off to fetch it.
"Cookies."
"Yes, dear."
When Christmas came, I had two and they induced the same level of joy. Visiting the basement to feed and nurture Hebat and Hadad became a nightly occurrence. I'd learned to awaken, if I could get to sleep at all, and go quietly.
He berated me severely if I missed a night, and there were subtle threats made casually.
"I may have to squash you yet," he said, his tone as deep and cold as always.
"It won't happen again," I promised. "They’re getting big." In fact, they were no longer infants. Both had grown to the approximate age of six or seven in a few months. Still, they never spoke. Their dark eyes watched me as they ate food from the kitchen upstairs, food I'd hidden from my family.
"More meat," the man demanded.
"Of course." And I ran to the freezer and gave them frozen sausages in the package. They never complained or demanded the food be prepared a different way. No objections from my "husband" either.
Hebat tore the styrofoam and plastic wrap away and flattened the row of sausages stuck together between powerful molars. Hadad contented itself with licking them like a popsicle.
I'd stay until the photo. Then they'd release me by vanishing. Always with an exhausted breath, I'd trudge up the stairs and search for the frames and hide them in the same place.
They only smiled in the pictures. At no other time did they express any kind of emotion unless indifference counts.
My own children and husband weren't doing much better. Their concerns about my fatigue and ruminating slowly ceased as I repeated the excuse: I’m just tired. It'll pass.
Of course, I did not know when the nightmare would stop.
"When will it end?" I asked him one night, while Hebat and Hadad exercised like they had a mission.
"What do you mean?" he said.
I was surprised he answered. He usually didn't. "This. This. When can I go back to normal and not come down every night? I'm so very tired."
He frowned and I thought some punishment must be coming. Instead, he looked more confused. "I don't understand. You aren't happy? Your children grow into power and strength and will take their place in the world. They will be great and you - you, of all the tiny things, made that happen. Ask yourself what you want out of life, and see if Hebat and Haddad aren't your answer."
Too many words, all at once, for an exhausted mother. I didn't speak for the rest of the night. The infernal trio vanished, and the latter moments of the ritual I carried out with his challenge in mind.
I want my children to be strong, happy, and safe.
"Juice," Cara demanded the next morning, a Saturday, while she watched cartoons.
"Get it yourself!" I hissed, from tired to angry in a second.
"But I can't," Cara accurately pointed out. She didn't look away from the TV. Looking at me wasn't safe, and she knew it. Her and Ella held hands and sat a little straighter. It broke my heart. What had I done?
George came downstairs, attracted by my shouting. "What’s going on?"
Empathy became sadness, and the constant burden rekindled to anger swiftly. "Just children treating me like a servant."
He smiled. "Ah, yes, and how are the royal princesses this morning?"
His levity irked me. "You would know if you didn't sleep in so much."
The smile vanished from his face, and instead of the fight I seemed to want, he mumbled a quiet apology and joined the girls. They climbed onto him as he wrapped them into a cuddle.
"What are we watching?" George restarted his smile, his calm, for the girls. I hated myself. It had to end. Tonight.
After another dreary day of going through the motions, and the girls and George had fallen asleep, I went to the kitchen and chose the knife I thought sharpest.
"Kirsty," he said, his voice a whisper rising from the depths of the house.
"Coming," I whispered back.
"Mom," said another voice, a girl's, and I knew that Hebat had, at last, found herself and the wholeness of her being had been corrected.
I started to cry. I went downstairs and there she was with her brother and her father. He looked tired but some of the grimness had cracked to allow the first real contentment I've ever seen him express.
"Is that for the cake?" he asked. "We already have one."
I remembered the sharp knife. "Meat," I said. "There’s ham in the freezer."
He nodded, seeming to accept the answer.
"Mom," Hebat said, "Do you think I'm…" She gestured to herself, her face, and her body, and I understood the question, born from doubt and a desire to be validated.
I pulled her close. "You are the most beautiful girl in the whole world." We cried together. Hadad cut into a poorly made, asymmetrical cake by the light of his aura. No one cared that he did so on the floor. I brought out the ham from the fridge and we ate slices with our hands.
"It's almost done," he said. "They’re nearly grown. They are strong, and they are happy. You've done a good job, Kirsty." He watched our children fight to smear icing on each other's faces. "I'm sorry if I was mean. Or cold. I've never done this before." And he meant raising children. "It was the hardest, scariest thing anyone can try. I shouldn't have blamed you for… Hebat… It wasn't your fault."
Before I could pat his hand, he and the kids vanished. Darkness so familiar couldn't extinguish a new fear. I went upstairs and found the last frame. I held my daughter in the photo, my beautiful Hebat. He must have taken the photo without my notice.
I took it upstairs but couldn't bring myself to hide it.
I didn't see that one, George wrote into the document.
I forgot he was watching.
He typed again: Are you saying there is something in the basement?
Yes, I replied.
He stirred in the living room. I hadn't moved from the stairs, but I could tell by his stomping how angry he'd become. All of his negative, violent traits he saved for those in the world who would harm his family. George the Protector was fearsome to behold.
But he had no chance against my other husband.
"Come out! Come out you coward!" George bellowed. At first, nothing happened. The moment before calamity, even when the specific consequences aren't known, is still in slow motion. He carried on shouting. The girls rushed into the hall and didn’t hesitate to investigate.
"No!" I shouted. "Cara! Ella!"
Their feet padded down the steps. A violent commotion followed, screams and raging voices, both deep and childishly shrill.
The most unsettling quiet followed.
I chewed through the fear and the horror tearing me apart and finally moved.
No evidence of violence could be seen from the top of the stairs. The concrete looked bare and dusty and the light revealed nothing more. They were gone, all of them.
"Hebat," I whispered. "Cara? George?"
Him, I thought of, the nameless husband and felt no hint of his presence. He'd always been there. I know that now. It had nothing to do with the house. His absence was felt more than his insidious presence. Yet, I felt no relief. George and the girls were gone. I sat on the floor and cried for all my missing children.
When I finally emerged from the basement, the whole house had been filled with night. Their photos were everywhere. The others were upstairs. I gathered them on the kitchen island. How could I explain any of this to the police?
I needed help. I called my parents. It took twenty minutes before my father picked up.
"Kirsty? What's wrong?"
"Dad," I whimpered. "George is gone. Cara. Ella."
"What? What did you say?"
"They’re gone, dad. George. The girls are gone."
I heard his bed springs protest as he rolled out of bed. My mom said something I couldn't hear, and he shushed her.
"Kirsty," he said, "are you alright? Are you hurt? Are you in danger?"
Why was it so hard to understand? "Dad. George is gone."
"Kirsty, who the hell is George?"
It was my turn to be confused. "He's my- you know him. My husband…"
"Kirsty," he said very slowly, "are you on drugs? Did you take something?"
"No. Are you?"
"Excuse me?"
I hung up.
I have their photos. I have all of their photos. That's what I brought to George's parents before the sun rose. They wouldn't open the door and spoke to me through an intercom.
"George is gone," I said.
"We'll call the police."
"This is your son. These are your granddaughters."
I heard my mother-in-law say, "Who is she?"
"We don't have a son," my father-in-law said. "Go away."
I left.
Back to the house. Our dream sat empty and I live there, but none of the people in my family photos are my family.
I remember but the world never does. My parents think I'm ill and that I used AI to create the family I apparently never had.
How did I buy the house without a job or income? With deep concern for my mental health, they showed me a news story. I had won the lottery the day I turned eighteen.
His influence there, payment for services rendered.
A lie is an agreement.
What had I agreed to? I'm afraid I know the answer: I never wanted a family.
God help me. God help them.
I don't know what to do with these pictures.

Just another fun little story idea I had. I am still working on Humans are the violent ones but I like to bounce around and experiment with ideas to see what I really like. I also suck at writing more casual stories, as they give me severe writer's block as I try to map out how to make a scene feel genuine in my head, but I promise I'll update that soon. If you like this story and want to see more, then like and comment. I'll gladly continue this series as well.
Start of Personal Log
Humans don't like being told what to do. They don't like being commanded, put in their place, or snubbed. It was an inexorable, inalienable trait of humans, at least any noteable humans, to go against any authority that they believed was against their interests.
Humanity would not fit amongst the stars. Few ever did. It was a trait of most successful species to be willful, ambitious, and to desire more. But once they reached the stars the new (and simultaneously very old) pecking order either quashed any spirit such species had or simply eradicated them. Countless tomb worlds and diaspora served as painful reminders of what became of the nails that chose to stick out. The hammer of order would always strike. There could be no compromise, the very soul of the authority that held the Jurisdiction together relied on a show of unmatched power, or at least the illusion of item.
In reality, the Jurisdiction was an old, fat, and lazy beast. It filled its belly on the corpses of empires far and wide, and sated its bloodlust on the shattered dreams of hopeful cubs. It had every right to, for none could challenge it: there were no new frontiers to explore, nor were there any other enemies to conquer. The Milky Way, as humans had so strangely dubbed our cradle galaxy, as well as Andromeda, had long since been warred over and settled for millennia before humanity had arrived, bright-eyed and with familiar yet otherwise foolish dreams of cooperation and prosperity. The Jurisdiction did not cooperate, nor did it ensure prosperity. Oh, it claimed it did, but in reality it simply took. The rest was just the peace that came with not being the direct target of the biggest fish in the pond. The humans didn't like that, but they had no choice.
Slavery was a common tribute. The Jurisdiction had no use for other resources: it simply took. No, it wanted those who could facilitate that unequal exchange, those raised in a world where the only morality was the one set by your lord. The Jurisdiction was held together by expectations, obligations, and dury more than any kind of shared dream, so when you were ordered to take you did so without question. Humanity was new: they had no niche or value that set them apart, but they had a penchant for killing and taking, so the Jurisdiction gave them a taste of how the galaxy worked. They killed and they took. The humans didn't like that, but what choice did they have?
Humans were strange. They learned, but not in the way most species learned. Most species learned to adapt in a passive way, to adhere to the world around them. They flowed like water, moving past and around obstacles and confirming to the boxes they were assigned too. Humans didn't confirm, nor did they adapt: they made their circumstances fit their desires. They would not move around obstacles, but rather smash through them, and they refused to stay in one box for too long. The Jurisdiction merely saw them as a particularly loud nuisance, but those who faced their wrath knew better.
It is said that when a beast seeks to make an example, it shall humble its rival by killing it's cubs. Children were one of those universal constants that brought entire communities together: the Sok’klar saw their hatchlings as gifts, shaped by the fruitful currents of the universe in perfect harmony. The Yarrack saw each and every newborn whelp as an uncut gemstone, ready to be shaped into something magical. Humanity oftentimes referred to their offspring as angels, or spirits of unbridled good sent by the gods themselves. Children were seen by most of the galaxy as gifts.
The Jurisdiction saw them as a lever to inflict suffering. It had become quite effective at enacting psychological punishments on those that stood up and spoke out. You dare to disobey? You believe you can speak out? Your gifts shall be taken from you, and you shall be without joy.
Humans didn't like this, but the Jurisdiction would have their pound of flesh, and humankind would kneel. And they did. But humans were patient creatures: most species who retained that trait of willful spit also lacked patience.
I had long since become desensitized to the Jurisdiction’s actions: it was simply how the universe worked now, as if it were a constant akin to gravity. Cruelty was the unspoken rule of this seemingly unending age, where our lives never appeared to move forward or backwards, only lay dormant. The Jurisdiction had been the unyielding authority that ruled the galaxy for thousands of years, venerable yet feared all the same.
And for the longest time I was just another cog in its wheel. My name is Kalnuracht Sedjuur-Noumar VII, and was the scion of the noble house Sedjuur-Noumar. I was born into what most would describe as veiled apathy, living a life that could be attributed to the privileged class of feared scribes that enacted the will of those above. I was an administrator and nothing more. And now I am doomed to be far less than that in the eyes of my former constituents within the endless administration. I am the only scion, as is tradition, and without an heir I am the last of my house, our name to be scrubbed from the records, worthless, meaningless, and forgotten.
I am merely Kalnuracht, nothing else and nothing more. I have seen from their eyes, the eyes of the downtrodden, and it makes my crimes of association with the Jurisdiction feel all the more damning on my worthless soul. I am worthless to the world, and this is my story.
End Personal Log #1
Start of Neural Lace Narrative Log #1
They came from the black like carrion birds in the night, encircling our convoy as if it were a dying animal ready to be picked clean without remorse. There was no warning, no list of demands sent out as civilized peoples did, nor was there either any requirement for unconditional surrender nor chance to parlay, as was done so under letter of marque: this was an unmistakable call for violence and nothing else. They sought to reduce us to slag and scavenge the rest.
So, as one would expect, the entire bridge of the ship was nearing a panicked state. This was not the actions of those practicing civility, but rather the common behaviors of despoiling barbarians, the kind that tore their way through the dark reaches of the galaxy as if they owned it.
“Wayfinder, what do your probes see?” Shouted the ship’s sovereign. He was an older Kar’Rowmach, an amphibious cephalopod species with a venerable history within the Jurisdiction going back thousands of years. Normally one such as him would be above me if it weren't for the fact that I was under the authority of the Jurisdiction’s seal of office. He didn't like me very much, but most of his kind shared the same sentiment.
“All dark, honorable Sovereign: the sensor arrays are wailing but the feedback we're reviewing is beyond incomprehensible,” the wayfinder replied with a certain restrained temper in his voice. The Sok'klar wayfinder swayed gently, his tentacled limbs grasping different metallo-liquid braille output arrays, the liquid gallium flexing and reshaping unnaturally to allow him to to take in multiple different sources of sensory output at once, with the primary navigation computer plugged into the cybernetics surrounding his opaque, gelatinous head and plugging directly into his tube-shaped brain.
The Sovereign cursed in Loskat and pointed to his bridge crew while I simply sat in the back, near the Sovereign’s symbolic throne. “Prepare countermeasures and spool up the warp drive, we cannot allow the amanuensis to be taken! He carries sensitive information that only he can translate and transcribe!”
As the bridge crew nodded and began fiddling with their own systems, I preened my feathered hide anxiously. I wasn't a fighter: us nobles of the cloth were the educated minority above all else, not those who waged war or partook in hard labor. Special cybernetics in my brain allowed me to translate triple-encoded messages that usually took a ducal signet codekey or above to parse, but even without that I was a skilled mathematician and logician. I had terabytes worth of knowledge stored within the hardware installed in my head, all well protected of course, but if I were to die it would still be a waste. I could only imagine the damage any malcontenders could do with it if they were able to get their filthy hands on me.
Suddenly, the ship rocked, and the gallium overhead display began to form crescendos like I'd never seen before. “Sovereign, decks A-3 through C-12 are venting atmosphere and our coolant systems have been obliterated,” the Wayfinder spoke in an almost serene voice, as if he was completely unconcerned by current events. I knew they were simply incapable of tonal displays, but it was unnerving nonetheless. “Once we jump, we will not be able to risk another until the vacuum of the void can reduce temperatures to acceptable levels within the plasma capacitors.”
“Damn them,” the armored nautiloid hissed, his barbed feelers coiling in frustration, “May the currents take them. What are our options? what can we see? This fleet cannot fall to the void today, not with such vital cargo.” My hackles rose lightly at the Kar’Rowmach referred to me as some object rather than an esteemed amanuensis of the Jurisdiction, but I bit my forked tongue. Now was not the time to squabble with the sovereign over who was what and what titles I deserved, not while he was so desperately attempting to keep what semblance of order within his fleet that he had left.
I could not blame the crew for being panicked either: wars were practically mythologized now, having been long since rendered obsolete with the rise of the Jurisdiction, and that felt like an eternity ago. Now, either being levied into or joining a ducal naval force was simply another career, more akin to serving as an officer of the law rather than a fully fledged soldier. Minimal training was required, most of it being the technicals of one's duty rather than any kind of combat conditioning, so expecting a fleet to actually be prepared for a combat scenario in a universe where peace was the norm was laughable.
“We are practically blind, Sovereign,” stated the Sok'klar Wayfinder, “our probes are offline, and shipboard graviton displacement sensory arrays have been rendered unreliable at best.”
“What about the particle emission array? Has there been a spike in radioactivity where we were hit?”
The Wayfinder seemed to think for a second, his gelatinous form flexing and morphing a bit before answering. “Affirmative, a jump from negligible to forty billion becquerels along decks A through E-5 on our starboard side.”
“Torpedoes…” the Sovereign hissed, stroking his barbed feelers, “Human Torpedoes. Only those primitives would rely on crude nuclear warheads.” He then turned to his militant leaders on the ship. “Noddos, Rel’ads: organize your phalanxes and prepare to repel boarders. We are bound to be assailed by those rancorous primates, and I want their skulls piled at my feet if they dare set foot on our ship.”
“Your wish is our command, Sovereign,” the two militant commanders spoke as one. Noddos, a large bipedal with multiple sets of curved spines running down his back, a pair of graceful horns sprouting from his head, and multiple rows of sharp teeth in his snout, bowed first, followed by Rel’ads, a marsupial with long saberteeth and thick fur. They both must have been fierce warriors in their own right to each lead a phalanx. They wore thick, semi-powered armor and held dueling polearms alongside their usual plasma casters, and seemed completely unfazed by the situation we were in. As they stomped out of the brightly lit bridge, I let out a quiet squawk of discontentment. “Sovereign, why haven't we jumped again? We are wasting precious time.”
“I am working on it, you spineless beaurocrat!” He warbled back, his feelers tensing in anger, “besides, it's not as if you're the one who will be spilling blood today, amanuensis, so flatten your wretched beak or I shall weld it shut with a plasma torch.
I was about to reply with something indignant, but the ship rocked again, this time causing the lights to flicker and the air to become… thick. The skin under my feathers began to blister, and I became lightheaded and confused. “Seal the damnable vents, initiate radiation scrubbers, and activate secondary life support!” Shouted the Sovereign, “Their nuclear weapons are rendering the ship inhospitable!”
I coughed up magenta blood accidentally, and I could feel more seeping from under my eyes. Some of the crew was in a similar position, but others were more resistant to radiation than I. The Sok'klar seemed completely at ease as he ran his tentacles across his morphic braille arrays before calmly announcing the ship’s status. “I've regained some control over our probes: ten, twelve, and seventeen are active and fully functional, the rest are either still malfunctioning or permanently inoperable. A rapid rise in localized radiation is also interfering with the detection of graviton displacement; we can't sense photon redirection, thus readings will remain inconclusive.
“Wayfinder, damn you, get me some kind of out here! We're easy prey until we can respond in kind!”
“Negative, something has gone awry with our processing hub, I am attempting to troubleshoot-”
And with that, the Wayfinder’s bulbous head exploded in a cascade of opaque lavender blood, covering the front half of the deck crew like a morbid art piece. Some of the crew screamed and shouted in terror before removing their cranial adaptors and choosing to interact with their displays manually. Others died just as quickly, unable to unplug in time as their brain stems fried or their blood boiled. It was a horrible way to go, having your insides neutralized by your own cybernetics, so I was glad I wasn't connected to the system.
“Cybernetic warfare! All systems are to be considered compromised, switch to manual settings or you'll be killed!”
The lights in the bridge flickered again, and the displays went haywire. The bridge crew, which obviously weren't acquainted with working without being hard-linked into the mainframe, moved at a much slower pace.
“Launch missile pods A through F and set to self-target after five hundred kilometers, then rely on their ballistic coordinates to begin firing broadsides! If we can't see the humans due to their meddling, we'll just have to feel them.” Shouted the Sovereign, “and got me a detailed report on the ship’s diagnostics readings. I need to know if this flagship is still capable of escaping or if we'll have to scuttle it and retreat on another.”
“Acknowledged, Sovereign, launching now,” affirmed another deck officer as he swiped across his own gallium output array. I could hear the dull thunk, thunk, thunk of missiles pushing out of their pods before racing off to their intended targets, then the mechanical whirring as the pods rotated to be reloaded by slaves in the lower decks. I was regaining my bearings as the many horrible sensations of being overwhelmed by radiation poisoning were beginning to subside, but I still felt as if I had been microwaved. The air was stale, the crew was horribly sick as well, and even the sovereign himself seemed to be on his last leg. I was beginning to believe that I might die here.
“Sovereign, a message from the lower decks,” shouted a communications officer, his chitin scraping against itself as he turned quickly, “they're requesting reinforcements, something about being overrun.”
“Impossible,” the Sovereign hissed out in a vain attempt to exude confidence, “We must outnumber the humans, they always go for bigger targets out of arrogance.”
“I've received reports that it's not just humans: the primates seem to make up only a third or so of the assailing force, along with some Phaeldaer and Vrex.”
The commander slammed his clawed hands down on his own output array in a fit of rage, obviously overwhelmed by the circumstances, “Then this wasn't just a typical assault, but something more sinister!” The nautiloid warbled, blood seeping from his shell as the full effects of the radiation took hold, “Get Rel’ads on the line, have him divert all spare lances to the lower decks or else we'll lose the only offensive capabilities we can use.”
“Rel'ads has gone dark, Sovereign, his vitals are critical.”
“Then either get me Rel'ads tail-leader or get me Noddos!” He screamed in rage, “don't give me this nonsense! If we don't pick it up we're all going to die, is that what you want?”
“No, Sovereign, I'm simply overwhelmed-”
“We're all overwhelmed! By the tides, I'm dying of radiation poisoning you nincompoop! Get me something I can work with!”
The officer didn't even acknowledge the Sovereign after that, simply turning back to his display. Eventually, the Sovereign was able to get Noddos on the line.
“Sovereign, two thirds of my phalanxes have been decimated by combat with the primitives and the radiation, the rest are in shambles. We must retreat and fortify elsewhere!”
“Then the ship is compromised! Rel'ads is unresponsive and the lower decks are swarming with intruders. We must evacuate the amanuensis to another ship.”
Just as the Sovereign spoke, I heard several gentle thumps rattle against the bridge’s door, and it made me uneasy. Some of the bridge crew seemed to feel the same, as they looked incredibly nervous and some even drew their sidearms. Just as the sovereign turned to give further orders, the door blew inward with a deafening explosion, followed by shouting and gunfire. Several of the bridge officers were dispatched quickly, brain matter and blood splattering against the delicate electronics. Others were shot in the legs, the torso, or in any other exotic yet non-vital body parts. The humans poured in, brandishing primitive ballistic firearms and jury-rigged energy weapons while wearing scavenged, legion-grade powered armor.
The Sovereign was the next to go, but he wasn't afforded an honorable death. He was shot along the arm with a particularly potent plasma caster, burning off his clawed hand and cauterizing the wound, the acrid smell of roasting chitin filling the already hot and cramped bridge. He fell back against his output array, the gallium reaching new highs and lows as more diagnostics and casualty reports were delivered, and he clutched his stump angrily. “I'll burn every last one of you in the foundries! I'll tie you to stakes, cover you in wax and set you alight! Your screams will be broadcasted all over the galaxy!”
One human warrior stomped up and slammed the butt of his rifle into the sovereign’s face, shattering his facial plates and causing blue blood to splatter across his section of the bridge. “Shut the fuck up, you mutant lobster,” the human said before dragging him by both antennae towards the center of the bridge and receiving a stained breeching axe from one of his comrades. “Emmanuel, start recording. We need proof.”
The other human nodded and pressed a button on his armor before lifting up his gun again. The rest of the humans fanned out, holding everyone else at gunpoint. I tried to get up and sneak out, but a human grabbed me by my neck and nearly wrung it out as he forced me to my knees and pointed a sidearm to my skull. “Get down, you piece of shit, before I blow your brains out too.”
“Damnable primate,” I hissed, but he bashed me in my skull with the base of his sidearm’s grip and sent me sprawling, making my already pounding headache worse. Another human shouted at him in a language I didn't recognize, but he sounded furious. The first brought me back up to my knees again, and I complies with a hiss and a groan, blood still leaking from my eyes and mouth and my world was spinning.
The Sovereign struggled, but he was weak from the radiation poisoning and he couldn't exactly resist on account of his lost arm. The human with the breaching ax kicked the Sovereign down and forced him to kneel before lifting up the breeching ax and splitting his chitinous head down the middle with one powerful swing, sending more blood and brains across the floor. “Execution confirmed, take his antennae just in case and we've got ourselves a bounty. Now all we need is that ugly cat’s teeth and the fat hedgehog-thing’s grimy spines and we'll be in business. Although, they do have skulls… we might as well just take their heads.”
The real horror of the situation dawned on me at that moment: they were going to kill us all, or maybe worse. They mentioned a bounty for the commanders, and multiple of the higher ranking ship officers were already dead, their brains splattered against the walls or their bodies torn apart by gunfire. I wasn't dead yet, but that didn't mean much since I wasn't an immediate threat.
“Alright, round them up and bring all the grunts to the hanger bay, then kill the rest,” the leader of the humans said in such a lackadaisical manner that his complete disregard for life almost made me sick… almost. I had seen worse from the Jurisdiction before, but usually that was from me delivering some kind of ordered judgment on a world that had sinned against order. I might have simply been the messenger, but I had seen many of the outcomes. “And make sure to collect whatever proof of bounties you can, we'll need to deliver them to the office to get cashed out. Don't let this be a repeat of last time where Juarez fucking forgot to take a few heads and it ended up cutting our profits in half, the fucking retard.”
Some of the humans chuckled at that as they dragged more of the senior officers away, out of the room and into the hall,where I heard gunshots. The rest of the bridge crew froze in place, different fear instincts kicking in. The remaining Sok'klar corralled together into what seemed to be a singular, semi-congealed mass as if to try and trick the humans into believing that they were much bigger and much more threatening than they actually were. The one Thei’chi on the bridge, an ensign who had clearly thought this would be a simple mission, bore her curved fangs at the humans and growled as they approached, her hackles completely vertical and her eyes dilated. They quickly muzzled and bound her before beating her over the head with a gun stock, sending her sprawling onto the ground. Many others simply cooperated, eyes wide and yet simultaneously empty, as if they couldn't quite process that the ship had been taken and the commanding officers were being executed as the rest were escorted to the hangar.
“Get the damn messenger down to the hanger as well, we need whatever data's in his ugly lizard head, then we can decide on what to do with him.”
I spat at him in spite, as if to try and seem brave, but it was clearly an empty gesture. “You won't get anything, primate! You couldn't possibly crack the encryption!”
The human holding me seemed to wind up for another swing, but the commanding officer simply held up his hand to stop my tormentor before strolling over to me. He knelt down and removed his helmet, revealing a beige-colored face covered in scars, wiry black hair cut down to the scalp, and multiple tattoos. “You're really fucking mouthy for a hostage,” he said before punching me across my beak faster than I could register. I heard a sharp crack as his fist connected, and my head spun again as the metallic taste of blood pooled into my mouth. “I'd advise you to shut up, but I'm sure you won't listen: you aristocratic types are so full of yourselves. Maybe I should have you flogged in the public square until your vocal chords give out once we rip those cybernetics from your head, huh? How's that sound?”
“It won't matter… it won't change anything… the Jurisdiction will hunt you down.”
“Maybe, but I doubt it will happen for some time: they really suck at doing anything that requires effort, even when they're mad enough. They just keep sending their rabid lapdogs to try and smoke us out, and they always end up full of holes,” the human officer said with a smirk, his yellowish-white teeth and green eyes sending shivers down my spine as he drew his knife. “They're just horrible at their job, you know? You've all gotten so lazy and incompetent after being able to just take what you want without resistance, and now that you've met people who are angry and crazy enough to fight back you act as if we're committing some grave injustice,” he placed the knife against my throat, the flat just underneath my now bent beak, “No, we just took a few pages out of your book, ‘cept we've got standards. No kids, for one…” he seemed to look off into the distance as his sneer deepened, “but it's more than that, we don't attack the defenseless in general and we still win against you all in fair fights.”
I went to say something else snarky, but he quickly grabbed my thin tongue with his fingers and yanked it out, blood from my mouth pulling to the floor as he held the blade of his knife against it. “No no, none of that. Say one more thing and I'll cut that rancid little tongue of yours out of your mouth and feed it to you,” he hissed at me, pressing the blade down just hard enough to draw blood. “Do you know what it's like to see a planet turn into a tomb?" he asked me, gritting his teeth, “Do you know what it's like to see everything you've ever known crumble to ash and glass, all the life and the green stripped away leaving nothing but bones? I do. I've seen it happen to countless worlds, and my grandfather always told me stories of how you bastards did it to Earth. He still prays in its direction five times a day, to Mecca, but he knows the Kaaba is gone now, or maybe it's still there, buried in the bones of those who sought refuge there.”
I didn't care for the human’s nonsensical beliefs, but I did care to correct him. “I've seen it before, and I'll see it again. And so will you, it's inevitable. The Jurisdiction will always have its judgment fulfilled, there is no alternative.”
“One day, I hope we can rectify that,” he said, then he sheathed his knife and slammed my head against the metal floor with enough force to nearly knock me out. As I lost consciousness, I could hear him speak. “Take him to the Chop Doc, and make sure the cybernetics don't get damaged: they're supposedly more valuable than any bounty on this ship.”
Warning: Severe radiation poisoning detected. Flush system immediately.
Warning: Neural Lace removal detected, chance of neurological damage high. Proceeded with caution.

I met Luna on a train two years ago. I’d just escaped from a toxic relationship, so romance was the last thing on my mind, but then she sat across from me in the carriage and asked about the book I was reading. She had a copy in her bag and wanted to know if it was any good.
I'd never felt such an instant, effortless connection with anybody before. I took a chance and asked her to dinner, and by the time the waiters cleared away our desserts, I already felt comfortable being vulnerable around her. So we went on a second date. And a third. And next thing I knew, we were planning our second anniversary.
In all that time she never gave off any 'creeper' vibes. Until a few months ago, when I stayed the night over at her place...
She'd gotten up early to use the bathroom. I grabbed her laptop off the side desk so I could catch up on some work e-mails, and the incognito tab was just sitting there. My first thought was: either she's having an affair or she's got a secret fetish.
What I found instead was a Google account with a photo album called ‘Michael’s EX’. In it, there were 427 photos of my former girlfriend turned psycho stalker, Sadie. This included shots of ‘Sadie the stalker’ with her family, screenshots of her passport—the works. On Facebook, Sadie's latest post said Moving to the Philippines, and since then she’d become a social media church mouse, so how did Luna keep her under surveillance? And how did you even get PERSONAL ID from a person halfway across the globe?
Down the hall, I heard the bathroom door swing open. Quickly I closed the laptop and pretended to be asleep until Luna planted a kiss on my lips. “Wakey wakey Bugs.”
I faked a stretch. “Morning Lola."
(At school, the other kids christened me ‘Bugs’ because of my cartoonishly large front teeth; I called Luna ‘Lola’ because of her blonde bangs and heart-shaped face.)
“How about we grab a fry for breakfast?” Her smile didn’t seem genuine, more like she was wearing a mask.
“Crap. I forgot I’m doing overtime today, I’ve gotta get to work.” With that, I shot out of there faster than a bullet train to Tokyo.
Because I didn’t wanna believe the worst about someone I cared so deeply about, I didn’t contact the police (not that anybody could’ve guessed what Luna was up to) and made excuses whenever she asked to meet, delaying the decision whether to end our relationship.
At night, I couldn’t sleep. Every time a hedge rustled outside, I’d run to the window and pull back the curtain only to discover a black cat skulking around the garden. I put this down to my previous relationship leaving me with a mountain of unresolved PTSD.
Sadie the stalker also seemed normal until we moved in together. After that she started picking fights if she caught me talking to another woman, even just distant relatives or childhood friends. The screaming matches went from weekly to nightly, only ever ending when I conceded to her every wish and gave her full access to my phone and social media accounts. I literally needed to grab my clothes into a bag and run away one night, and then I started hearing noises outside my new apartment. And although I never found any evidence, I was pretty sure she’d broken in at one point because the books on my side table were suddenly out of order one day. What hurt the most was Luna knew all this and still acted the way she did.
Right as I reached my lowest point, my close friend Gertrude called and said, “The universe is telling me you could use a sympathetic ear.”
I told her the universe didn’t know the half of it.
I’d met Gertrude—aka my surrogate mother—on a flight to London. Passing over Wales the aircraft hit heavy turbulence, and the grey-haired hippie in the seat next to mine squeezed my hand so tight that my fingers turned blue. After we levelled off, she apologized and said, “So what’s calling you to London?”
“A job.”
A few glasses of wine from the service trolley later, she blurted out, “You know your aura is strikingly similar to my husbands.”
“Uhh, thanks. Where is he now?”
“Oh, he burned to death in a house fire.”
Gertrude’s eyes started welling up. To take her mind off the subject, I said, “I lied earlier. I’m going to London because I fell in love with a Londoner.” I pulled up pictures of Sadie (back in her pre-stalker days) on my phone. “We met in Italy. She looked flustered trying to read a map book so I offered to help. Next thing I knew, we were planning a trip to this place called Orvieto.”
“Michael, I need to know how this story ends. Gimme your number.”
Since then, we’d met two or three times a year.
I laid the whole mess out over pizza. It was the first time since finding the Google account I didn’t feel hidden eyes crawling all over me.
Just as I wrapped up the story, over in the corner booth, a family burst into a chorus of happy birthday. A waiter appeared carrying a chocolate cake, capped by a giant candle that looked more like a flare. Gertrude tensed up.
“So what do you think about all this?” I asked.
She looked back at me and said, “It’s possible your reaction has been a touch on the dramatic side.”
“DRAMATIC??”
“Well consider things from Luna’s point of view. Your last relationship lasted for, what, three years? Maybe she felt threatened.”
“I don’t believe this.” I grabbed a cigarette from my pocket, but Gertrude snatched it away.
“You know how I feel about you poisoning your lungs, Michael.”
“Don’t you start. I got enough of that crap from Luna.”
Gertrude always encouraged me to work through my romantic problems. Ultimately, I decided her love of fairytale romances clouded her judgement and ghosted Luna instead. But I couldn’t escape her shadow. She always felt close. In fact, it got so bad that at a friend’s costume party several weeks later, my eyes kept compulsively scanning the crowd as if she was there in disguise, ready to pounce.
I stood off to the corner until, over the sea of heads, I spotted a beautiful stranger dressed as Jarlath the Goblin King. I took a shot of liquid courage and made a B-line towards her.
Halfway across the crowded room, beer splashed across the front of my Ziggy Stardust outfit.
“I am so sorry,” a female pirate said, patting me dry.
“Don’t worry about it.” Every time I tried circling her, she moved to cut me off.
“I am such a klutz. Why don’t you come into the kitchen so I can clean up this mess?”
I put my hands on her shoulders and steered her out of the way. “It’s fine. Trust me.”
Approaching Jarlath from behind, heart slamming against my chest, I said, “Well this is awkward. One of us is gonna have to change.”
Jennie had bright blue eyes and dimples impossible to miss. Ten minutes into our debate about David Bowie’s greatest album, I said, “You know Absolute Bowie are playing the Half Moon next week. I could take you?”
“Sorry. I’m going with my boyfriend,” she said with a sympathetic smile. From beside the buffet table, the pirate stared daggers in our direction.
“No worries,” I replied, despite the fact I was brimming with jealousy.
The next day, as I jogged off my hangover, a brown-haired lady cut across my path and we both went spinning to the ground.
“Flip, sorry.” I rushed to pull her up by the hands. “I’m like a bloody zombie lately.”
She did a doubletake. “Ziggy, right?”
There was no mistaking those eyes. “Jarlath?”
“Well, Jarlath or Jennie. Eithers fine.”
“Right. Well, sorry again. Enjoy Absolute Bowie.”
Before I could jog away, she said, “Hey, so that guy I was seeing? Turns out he’s a total prick.”
Jennie and I went for coffee. Coffee morphed into drinks. Drinks morphed into a steamy make-out session on my sofa.
But as she covered my neck in soft kisses, my stomach turned. It felt like cheating. So, I put the brakes on things and said, “I can’t do this. I’m really sorry. You’re amazing, but I just got out of a serious relationship…and…it’s just…”
“Hey, don’t worry about it.”
We agreed we’d let our connection blossom in its own time.
Jennie had a playful mystique to her. Within a handful of dates, we’d developed inside jokes and could tell what the other was thinking. But Luna’s imprint was hard to shake, to the extent I almost mixed up the two ladies’ names multiple times.
To detox, I suggested Jennie and I spend a romantic weekend in the Lake District, because after two days of hiking and kayaking my ex would no doubt be a spec in the rearview mirror.
Hours before we set off, however, Luna’s mom called. She wanted to meet and wouldn’t accept any excuses.
“Look, it’s obvious why I’m here,” she said, sitting across from me in Starbucks. “Ever since you and Luna broke up, she’s been acting…different.”
“Different? Different how?”
“I call but she hardly answers. I go over to her place but she’s never there. Now she’s telling me she needs to find herself. Says she’s moving to Australia.”
Her fingers tightened around her cup. “I need to know what happened between you two. And I don’t care if that paints anybody in a bad light. I’m just worried about my daughter is all.”
I told her about the Google account.
“Did you confront her about it?”
“Hell no. I ghosted that crazy bitc—” I cleared my throat. “I mean, I just…stopped seeing her.”
She started crying so loudly customers at nearby tables paused their conversations. I touched her forearm, promised I’d call if I remembered anything else, then set off for my romantic weekend.
But while Jennie and I enjoyed all that fresh air and pub food, a thought nagged at me. Luna adored London, so why move to Australia? It seemed so out of character. Back at our rented cottage, I was so fixated on the thought I needed a smoke, badly.
“What the hell is that?” Jennie demanded, as she stepped onto the front deck.
I glanced at my hands. “Uhh, a cigarette.”
“Michael! Don’t be sarcastic. You know how I feel about those things.”
“…Do I?”
“Uhh, well it’s the same as anybody else. Quit poisoning your lungs and put that thing out.”
“Alright alright, geeze. Sorry Luna.”
“That’s okay.”
A knot formed in my stomach as she went back inside. I’d called Jennie Luna by mistake. And she hadn’t noticed. In fact, her reaction to me smoking was identical to Luna’s—even the snappy way she said the ‘poison your lungs’ line.
I followed Jennie into the lounge, where she’d curled up on an armchair with a Colleen Hoover novel. She was hiding something. What else did she know about Luna? Maybe I could trick her into revealing some details…
From behind, I started massaging her shoulders. “Sorry for being rude before. I know what you said came from a place of love.”
“That’s okay.”
I waited until her eyes drooped shut, then said, “It really is perfect here, huh? Maybe we should stay forever.”
“Wouldn’t that be amazing?”
Her little groans of pleasure, the rhythm of her breathing, it all felt so familiar. I waited until the tension in her neck dissolved, then I pushed my lips against her ear and whispered, “So how about we take this into the bedroom…Lola.”
“Hmm. Sure thing Bugs.”
My hands froze. Jennie jumped up. “Uhh, that felt so good, why’d you stop?”
“What did you just say?”
“What did you just say?”
“I called you Lola,” I replied, my arms frozen in midair. “And you called me bugs.”
“Like the cartoon, right? I thought it’d be a cute nickname. Anyway, I’m tuckered out.” She forced a yawn. “Why don’t we get some sleep?”
As her hand laced with mine, an image of me waking up drugged and gagged and tied to the bedposts flashed before my eyes.
I said, “Sure. I just…need to use the bathroom first.”
The second the door shut behind me, I flew out of the house, climbed in my car, and sped away.
Within seconds my phone started blowing up with calls, followed by texts. Where are you going? Is everything okay?
No, I wanted to reply. I’m onto your sick little game. Whatever it is, I’m onto it.
Luna stalked my stalker, now Jennie somehow knew Luna and I’s nicknames. How? Did all women take turns drawing straws and whoever picked the short one needed to become my girlfriend?
I couldn’t go home. For all I knew, my exes would’ve been there burning effigies of me. I needed a safe place. Somewhere I could lie low until I got all this straightened out.
“Of course you can stay,” Gertrude said over the phone. “I’m out with some friends, but I’ll meet you later. If you hop the side gate there’s a spare key under the kissing gnomes out back.”
Gertrude lived in a detached house in Wembley. It took a bit of foraging to find the gnomes hidden beneath the weeds in the brown, patchy garden.
I needed to shoulder the door open. Inside, a mountain of letters and flyers had piled up on the welcome mat.
Down the hall, a huge archway connected the landing with a lounge, where a bar sat against the far wall, surrounded by upholstered sofas, a low table, and tie dye sheets strung over the filthy carpet. Everything had a real elegant vibe, despite the musty air.
I’d drained two glasses of whiskey before Gertrude arrived.
“Looks like you’ve had a rough evening.”
I said we could talk in the morning.
“Not a chance. You can’t take negative energy to bed. Come on, confession is good for the soul.”
She sat on the sofa and patted the empty seat next to her. So, with a weary sigh, I shared a tale of deranged exes.
“Crazy,” she said.
“I sure can pick ‘em, huh?”
“No, I mean you’re crazy.”
“What?”
“Think about it. What’s more likely: that your ex’s are secretly in collusion, or you’re being paranoid? Look how bloodshot your eyes are. When’s the last time you got a good night’s rest?”
She made a great point; teenagers on the street occasionally shouted ‘Bugs’ or ‘Thumper’ at me. Jennie might’ve come up with the nickname herself. I pinched the bridge of my nose, groaning.
“Look, sleep here tonight. Tomorrow we’ll brainstorm ways you can make it up to Jennie.”
I fumbled through my pockets for a cigarette.
“Really?” Gertrude said. “If you insist on poisoning your lungs, can you at least do it away from my home?”
“Well if I can’t smoke, I’m gonna need a refill.” I shook my empty glass.
On my way toward the bar, a wave of wooziness hit me. My first instinct was to blame it on the alcohol, but there was something else.
It was her reaction to the cigarette. My finger ran through the thick layer of dust along the bar’s countertop. Why was it like the place had been abandoned? Why did Gertrude always pressure me to stay with my psycho girlfriends? And how come she always reached out, as if on cue, whenever my relationships hit problems? It couldn’t be coincidence…
I poured two glasses of whiskey and carried them to the sofa. “So, you’re really against the whole smoking thing, huh?”
“Of course. It’s a filthy habit.”
“Yeah. Plus, there was that mess with your husband. House fire, right?”
“I’d rather not discuss it.”
“Sure, sure.” I ignited the lighter with a roll across my trouser leg.
Gertrude grabbed a cushion and hugged it. “What are you doing?”
“Alright, cut the crap. What the hell’s going on? Have you been sending your friends to date me?”
“What are you talking about?”
I wrestled the cushion from her and held the lighter beneath it. “I want an explanation right now or I’m torching this place.”
This was an empty threat. I wasn’t some pyromaniac—I just wanted answers. Inch by inch, I raised the flame. “Last chance. Why are the women in my life acting weird?”
Gertrude grabbed for the lighter. As I swatted her wrists away, we both got scorched, and for a moment her skin went wild with spasms, a sensation I can only compare to reaching inside a bucket of wet, writhing maggots. My gaze whipped between her face and her hands, which vibrated like plucked guitar strings.
Before I could scream, she yanked me up, clamped a cold, wrinkled palm across my mouth, and forced me against the wall. I thrashed around, unable to move. For a lady old enough to collect a pension, she was crazy strong.
She waited until I ran out of breath, then said, “Michael, please. I’m not going to hurt you. Open your heart and listen.”
What else could I do?
“You were right before. I have been keeping a secret from you. The truth is, I’ve been in love with you since we met. I’d never flown before. And you were so so sweet. You started talking about this other woman, but I knew our energies were perfect for each other. And it’s like I always say, love makes us do crazy things. You can’t begrudge me that can you?”
She looked as if she expected me to respond, so I shook my head.
“But I think we’ve reached a point where our connection is so deep we can be completely transparent with one another.” She took a slow, steady breath. “Michael, all your ex’s, Luna, Sadie, Jennie. They’ve all been…well, me.”
I stared at her, confused.
She sighed. “It’ll be easier if I just show you.”
Out of nowhere her hand wriggled again, then her face tightened, as though the skin was being stretched over the bone. Wrinkles smoothed out and colour bled into her grey hair, turning it brown, and within seconds I found myself face-to-face with Jennie. Even her vintage clothes morphed into a green blouse and white slacks.
“See?” she said in Jennie’s voice, her now blue eyes locked on mine.
I screamed into the soft flesh of her palm.
“Sssh, it’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Watch.”
Her entire body jerked and twitched, the muscles spasming as she shifted from Jennie to Luna. “See? Think of these as costumes”—from Luna to Sadie—"the important thing is what’s underneath. And you’ve fallen in love with what’s underneath three times. Now I’m going to let go, but I need you to promise you won’t overreact. Understand?”
On the verge of a panic attack, I nodded furiously.
The second she pulled away I made a break for the exit. The thing posing as Sadie grabbed me and hurled me backwards against the wall.
Like a disappointed teacher, she put her hands on her hips. “I’ve been so patient with you, Michael. So very, very patient.”
She blocked off any hope of escape. I sidestepped around the outer edge of the room, towards the bar.
“All those years moulding you. Trying to grow you into the man I know you can be. I really thought we had it this time. For the record, I wanted to do this the easy way. But drastic times...”
I was so scared I slammed right into the cabinet and yelped. Glass bottles chattered together, and then something wet ran down the back of my shirt. It was whiskey, leaking from the overturned bottle onto the carpeted floor.
Speaking more to herself now, Gertrude said, “I’ll just have to keep you here until you love me as much as I love you. Of course, that means posing as you so nobody gets suspicious, but that’s no trouble. I’ll tell your dad you’re moving to Italy. You always loved Italy.”
Pose as me? She'd been killing my ex's and taking their place, I was just the latest in a long line. She’d keep me as a personal sugar baby if I didn’t escape, but how? She was impossibly strong, and the only thing that seemed to scare her was…
Snatching the bottle, I doused the remaining whiskey all over the carpet and furniture. As I flicked the lighter open, Sadie’s hands shot up.
“Bugs…darling…what are you doing?”
I took three slow, steady breaths. “Breaking up with you, you crazy bitch.”
I tossed the lighter forward. Within seconds flames sprung up all around us, spreading as far as the sofa. Sadie’s shoe caught fire, and as she stamped around, unintentionally fanning the blaze, her body writhed again, starting with the ankles. Fat boils climbed up every inch of exposed skin, milky white and with the consistency of frog spawn, like she’d had a killer allergic reaction to poison ivy.
She dropped to her knees, wailing like a wounded animal. This was my chance.
I made a break for the exit, giving the creature as wide a berth as possible. But as I got one foot planted in the hall something clamped tight around my ankles. My chin hit the floor, then I started sliding backwards.
I twisted onto my back. Where Sadie’s left arm should’ve been, a tentacle-like appendage stretched across the length of the room, a distance of over twenty feet. It reeled me toward her like a fish on a line. Whatever that thing was no longer looked human. It melted like an ice statue, with no bones or connective tissue inside, its lips nose and mouth becoming hideously elongated before dripping off in huge globs like melted candlewax. A fire alarm started wailing as the tentacle dragged me through the flames, scorching my arms and legs.
The loose mass of skin reached out and encased me like a mother bird sheltering its eggs.
“WHY WON’T YOU LOVE ME?” all my ex’s voices screamed at once. Whichever direction I looked, silhouettes of faces rose and fell, as if trying to burst through. Parts of them dripped inside my mouth, disgustingly warm with a bitter taste worse than Vaseline.
I put everything into clawing my way out if there. What was left of the beast had the consistency of wet clay and came apart just as easily. I tore away chunks until there was a hole large enough to squeeze through. Then, I crawled along surrounded by black smoke.
At the far side of the room I risked a glance back and saw a bumpy, uneven hand reaching out of a puddle of ooze. Soon I was crawling over the bristly welcome mat, then fumbling for the door. All I remember after that are paramedics wrestling me into an ambulance…
A specialist officer came to see me at the hospital the next morning. They’d been unable to contact the homeowner, Gertrude Huyton, and through his line of questioning I could tell they hadn’t found her ‘remains’ inside the charred house. Like the wicked witch of the West, my stalker had melted. I told the officer she said I could stay the night, and that I probably started the fire by dropping a cigarette.
“In that case, we’ll keep trying to reach her.” He walked to the curtain surronding my bed and paused. “Oh, and I almost forgot to mention, her cat is missing.”
“Her...cat?”
“Yeah. The little black one. One of the firemen pulled it out of the wreckage. The poor thing had burns over its legs but it ran off before anybody could take it to the vet.”
I swallowed a gulp and thanked him for telling me.
And now I’m still sitting here listening while nurses rush back and forth, terrified any one of them might be Gertrude…

I need to apply for the UKFPO and need 400 in all sections to be eligable. My letter was about a geologist in the sun often and now has a skin lesion suspicious of malignancy and needs a referral. I started with his occupation and straight into the first visit to the doctor in the same paragraph. Then ended with the latest visit that causes the suscpicion for cancer
my mistakes:

1. Over word limit by 20-30
2. Did not start with recent visit as this is urgent.
3. Did not include smoking and alcohol risk factors plus the fact that he had a laceration on the same area 4 years ago (idk if that is relevant).

4.Shouldve made a whole paragraph for risk factors only
Idk if these mistakes will make me lose out on the score. I got 450.450.410.360(in writing) on my first attempt and im so anxious if these mistakes will cost me the grade. No money or time to book at 3rd attempt either.

I need to apply for the UKFPO and need 400 in all sections to be eligable. My letter was about a geologist in the sun often and now has a skin lesion suspicious of malignancy and needs a referral. I started with his occupation and straight into the first visit to the doctor in the same paragraph. Then ended with the latest visit that causes the suscpicion for cancer
my mistakes:

1. Over word limit by 20-30
   
2. Did not start with recent visit as this is urgent.
   
3. Did not include smoking and alcohol risk factors plus the fact that he had a laceration on the same area 4 years ago (idk if that is relevant).
   

4.Shouldve made a whole paragraph for risk factors only
Idk if these mistakes will make me lose out on the score. I got 450.450.410.360(in writing) on my first attempt and im so anxious if these mistakes will cost me the grade. No money or time to book at 3rd attempt either.

I need to apply for the UKFPO and need 400 in all sections to be eligable. My letter was about a geologist in the sun often and now has a skin lesion suspicious of malignancy and needs a referral. I started with his occupation and straight into the first visit to the doctor in the same paragraph. Then ended with the latest visit that causes the suscpicion for cancer
my mistakes:

1. Over word limit by 20-30
   
2. Did not start with recent visit as this is urgent.
   
3. Did not include smoking and alcohol risk factors plus the fact that he had a laceration on the same area 4 years ago (idk if that is relevant).
   

4.Shouldve made a whole paragraph for risk factors only
Idk if these mistakes will make me lose out on the score. I got 450.450.410.360(in writing) on my first attempt and im so anxious if these mistakes will cost me the grade. No money or time to book at 3rd attempt either.

Hi N,
I've been missing you a little more today. How are you? Nanood ako ng 'That thing called tadhana' para sana malaman ko pano ba makalimot. I KNOW. Pathetic. But hell.. if there's going to be an advice kung pano maka move on? I will fucking take it. Sabi nila love yourself daw.. I love myself, hindi na nga kita kinakausap diba?
Can't help but compare you to the guy I dated last Friday. He's very nice, made me laugh, such a gentleman, made kwento about the things that interest him, asked if I was okay with the restaurant, walking, humidity sa BGC, how was my day, took interest in what I like, and was very clear with his intentions with me. But.. bakit ganon? Ikaw pa din ung hinahanap ko. I will write all the letters I want to send you but never will, until I fully move on.
I know you're doing well without me, but I hope you miss me too.
Love, M.

I know bricking my PIPI is inevitable and everyone over 1500 elo laughs when they hear “stop bricking my PIPI” but I don't think most people understand, I've played about 1000 chess games on lichess and chesscom and I'd say I average 7 PIPI bricked a game. No matter how hard I try or how focused I am, they always cum. I've already watched every free porn video on the internet and they all say the same things “Develop your hormones” “Don't move to unprotected sex” “Cum early” “Analyze your thrusts” “Don't give up the dominance” “Be patient” “Think about what you're partner will do” but none of this has actually helped me. I can recognize most openings I've faced and the only one I can't play against is the Kings Indian defense, I just don't think the London works against it. I haven't fallen for the scholars mate in quite some time either. (btw 30 minutes before writing this my elo, which is now -900 has dropped by about 500)
Fyi I cum in under 30 seconds

Hello Ladies and Gents, it’s been a while since I’ve been active in Rep-land but I am happy to be putting words back on print with a mini review for a mini bag! I have a few weddings to attend to this coming summer so I knew I would need a handy sidekick to spruce up my looks. Naturally, the purse closet had nothing to wear (y’all know what I mean) so I turned to social media to look for inspiration and found this mini beauty from Loewe! My sister was in the market for a Loewe Puzzle and she wanted to get one from Hyper Peter, so I tacked on asking about my Flamenco. Thank goodness for my handy rolodex of rep resources, HP had both bags we wanted in stock!! A little bit of a wait due to HP being on much needed vacation, but in the end, he delivered and happy to report both bags are stunning!
About the author: I am a Loewe Lover through and though. The Puzzle has my heart and I’ve convinced my sister to get one for herself. We frequent the Loewe store often and it’s been a bad habit of mine trying on their bags. I always wanted this mini Lambskin baby so when the situation presented itself, I decided to go for it and buy at the same time as my sister! Been a replady since OG RL days but stepped a way from Reddit for a bit to put a cap on my spending habits (it was going a bit overboard especially when I started buying 18K reps…)
PHOTO TIME!!
My photos ❤️
HP does not usually disclose factory or factory pics and I didn’t ask but I know he has amazing Loewe Puzzles. Example 1 / Example 2
NO PSPs Opted out because I am an old time buyer of his.
~Authentic on Loewe website~ And this review was helpful too for details and mod shots! Also Purseblog’s 60 second review.
Disclosure: I didn’t receive a discount or anything in exchange for this review
Seller: Hyper Peter
Whatsapp: +44-774-303-8638
Instagram: Hyperpeter7
Product: Loewe Flamenco Mini in Nappa Lambskin
Price: 1300 yuan plus 480 yuan (for shipping 2 bags) Fedex shipping no branded Loewe box total 1540 yuan or $213 usd
Paid by: Wise
Timeline:
⏳ Messaged Peter and paid on April 3
⏳ Confirmed with Peter that the bags are available April 3-4
⏳ Opted out of the PSPs because of the additional charge, Peter showed me pictures of the actual bag he sells and I figured it would be similar enough to it.
⏳ May 14 received the bags, worth the wait in my opinion!!
QUALITY:
1. THIS LEATHER IS BUTTERY!!! I can’t express how supple and luscious this lambskin is in words! It is incredibly soft, zero hint of dryness, thick yet malleable. It actually looks and feels very very close to the auth Loewe Flamenco I fondled at the store, buttery AF!
2. The pouch shape is correct, with correct stitching on the base of the bag and the top section that bunches up randomly in buttery folds (hence the name of the bag because the ruffles mimic a Flamenco dancer’s dress!) that look both elegant and casual at the same time. The opening of the pouch is cinched at the top with two leather knotted drawstring straps which can be used as the handles for this bag (as a low key clutch), but as a security feature, there’s also a magnetic closure that seals the opening of the bag, perfect for keeping your goodies in the bag!
3. This bag has not 1 but 2 straps! A beautiful “donut” ring strap with interwoven leather in alternate lacing and the second strap is an adjustable leather cinch strap that slides long and short depending on whether you want to use it as a shoulder bag or cross body!
4. The only other hardware of the bag is in the snap clasps which are nicely weighted and match the yellow gold tone of the donut chain. All function as needed.
ACCURACY:
1. Here are the dimensions of the auth Mini Flamenco: – Weight: 0.18 kg , Height : 17 cm ,Width : 23 cm , Depth : 5.5 cm. Admitedly I don’t have a scale so can’t weigh this bag myself but obviously for it’s size it’s very light. Here’s what I got for my measurements: Height : 17 cm, Width : 24 cm, Depth : 5 cm. I’d say this is a good match for the dimensions.
2. The first strap, the leather knotted version is removable and adjustable with a minimum length of 82 cm and max of 142 cm. The donut chain strap is 36 cm for mine.
3. The Donut strap gold tone is yellow, perhaps a touch more yellow than auth, but the luster and gloss is correct, it also is very dependent on lighting so I am not docking points off this because it’s verry hard to judge if you don’t have the auth next to it.
4. The shape, engravings and weight of the hardware are a good likeness for the auth. The snap hooks on the strap are the correct shape, have good functionality and are correctly branded with the Loewe logo.
5. Everything about the leather is just delicious. I can’t complain because I remember the auth being very similar in feel to the softness and density of this nappa lambskin. The burgundy shade is pretty much an exact match to the auth. The knotted drawstrings do not feel flimsy, the thickness and density are appreciated and even for a small bag, I don’t need to baby it.
6. The make/craftmanship of the bag is top notch. The suede lining is well lined, stitched well and no loose or faulty craftmanship anywhere. The pouch opening leather is well folded and stitched over.
7. I will deduct points for the thread being a shade too light compared to the auth. I am not too fussed about it but I did want to call that out for those who are concerned with the minute details. Taking one point off here.
8. Interior suede is thick, has good dense feeling and has a very nice texture. The interior datecode and logo match the auth well.
WFIMB:
Well this bag is teensy weensy, so other than my phone, a pack of issues, a cardholder, a compact and lipstick I am not really adding anything to it….I mean, what do you REALLY need at a wedding except for these few items?! A pack of gum or tictacs? Easy peasy, done deal. At any rate, whatever essentials you’d need for dressing up, this baby can handle it and that’s all you need in here anyways!
SATISFACTION:
I honestly didn’t expect to love this bag so much, but now I see any ladies love it and say it’s a good part of their collection. I was on the hunt for a small but practical bag, and with all the different ways this bag can be carried it’s quickly becoming a standout for any time I need a small elegant but functional bag for parties or nights out.
It’s my first burgundy colored bag (I was initially going to get the black) but I am glad I went for this pop of color. The burgundy is very deep, classy and understated in color but still pleasant to the eyes. I am not considering getting a puzzle in the dark burgundy as well just because this color is growing on me.
SELLER SATISFACTION:
Peter has always been one of my go to sellers. I know there have been many members who feel jilted that his communication has been few and far in between but I took the patient route and just waited for my bag to arrive (my order took over a month from start to finish, by the way). Perhaps it’s because I am a seasoned rep buyer and also a long time client of Peter’s so I was sure I would get my bag in the end. I find the best way to enjoy repping is to not stress over the small stuff and trust the process (and your gut of course). The mods here do an awesome job of guiding and advising when it comes to reviews and sellers so I knew that if I needed help, they’d have my back. But in all honesty, my bag arrived to me safely, my payment and ordering process were smooth sailing and the bag itself was certainly within my budget. For all these reasons and more, Peter will always have a top spot in my rep rolodex for reliable bags and service.
THE WRAP UP:
This bag is divine and being quite nonchalant about what others think or say, I would proudly wear this to any party or date night I go to. I would likely not flaunt it around my usual Loewe store (those SAs all recognize me) but I wouldn’t mind wearing it into a high end department store. My sister’s puzzle is absolutely accurate to the authentic though, I will help her write up a review for that one when I get a chance. I’d give Peter’s Loewe gold stars for the incredible value for the price!

I've been fairly active on this sub for the past month and a half as I deal with a friend fallout. While there are other subs where your posts might get more traction, I feel like "lost a friend" still sums up best how I feel, and so this is the sub I keep returning to to collect my thoughts. I just want to thank everyone here for giving me, and others like me, a place to vent and figure out how to move on. It's been so long since I've lost a friend I cared this much about that I forgot how painful it is.
In my situation, though, I'm beginning to feel like I didn't so much lose a friend as I lost the idea of a friend. Looking back at our relationship, I was much more invested in keeping the friendship/conversations going than she was. In fact, I realize now that she usually only messaged me when she was at work. Presumably, when she was bored at work. I just didn't notice at the time, because we lived in different timezones.
The thing is, we used to work together on the same remote team. It's how we met. And we were great work buddies and stayed friends long after we both left that company. Well, I thought we were being friends. I think in her eyes, I am still just a work buddy. Someone you message when you're bored at work or need reassurance with your new job.
I know I'm needy, and anyone who acts like a friend is going to be my friend, if that makes sense. So maybe it's my own fault for getting hurt, like a Pokemon who "hurt itself in its confusion." This friend has since grown quite distant, and I haven't heard from her in over a month now, despite me expressing to her that I was hoping we could catch up on a video call. It's always tempting to write an angry or self-pitying message to her, but we work in a niche industry where we might need to be references/referrals for each other, so I know I should keep it professional. I just need to accept that we aren't friends anymore (if we ever were). We are only colleagues now.

To preface this post, I want to give the disclaimer that like many things, there is not a black and white answer the question. I'm writing this as an experienced tech professional, and the information provided is based on opinion.
To start with. A little bit of history..
The golden age of software engineering(and similar jobs) is over. At least for the next 5 - 10 years. I don't think this is an unpopular opinion. The reason why between the years of 2010 - 2022, these jobs exploded, was because of the boom of the internet for commercial and personal use.
This is different from the dotcom boom of 2000s, where the internet was just starting and most of the products being created were for basic things like: putting banking on the internet, putting videos on the internet, etc.
The boom in the 2010s was related to the widespread popularity of commercial and personal products. Things like Uber, Spotify, and Salesforce. With the sudden increased usage of the digital world, there were MILLIONS of companies rushing to create digital products.
However, we're starting to see the rise and fall of some of these products, millions of startups failings, and less VC funding. In case you don't know, VC stands for Venture Capital, which are basically investment companies that give money to other companies to help them grow and develop, in return for partial ownership of the company.
As the industry began to mature, successful companies started to emerge, and many more started to fail.
The present day..
Software engineering and like jobs will continue to be important, and there will be a high demands for these engineers. Nearly every company will still need a website, a place to manage their data, and people to manage their hardware. BUT.. the basic technologies they need to run their company will become more efficient. AND there will be less research and innovation because the a lot of the trial and error already occurred.
We're in a weird spot where the demand for workers is now decreasing from it's recent peaks, and the supply of workers is now increasing because of how all the benefits of being a software engineer in the past decade.
This has really unfortunate consequences for any recent graduates or others trying to break into the tech field. There are WAY more beginning career people than jobs available. Which is made even worse with the amount of layoffs there are, where mid-level employees are now having to settle for entry level jobs.
What can we do?
I have two pieces of advice for people interested in the topic, or wanting to break into the field but can't. Try breaking in from a adjacent field, where you can get some exposure to tech. Things that data entry, analytics(this can be finance, supply chain etc). Then try to learn as much as you can from the tech people at your company.
The second piece of advice. Go into a different field. Software engineering is not for everyone. You have to learn and understand some relatively complex topics, and it's becoming harder and harder to be competitive in the industry. Healthcare, supply chain, and many other industries are booming right now.
Understanding history, you can see that certain industries will rise and fall. For the near future, technology might be one of the harder careers to break into. Something like healthcare would be that's expected to grow exponentially. The average population of the world is getting older, as less and less people are wanting to have kids. There will be higher demand for healthcare professionals and healthcare technology.
Do your best to review and understand these trends, and hopefully you can create a good life and career. Best of luck!
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okay, please don't judge me.
I had a big crush on a girl from my class. we got along very good, it's the classic scheme of I didn't know how to interpret what she's saying, leading to me thinking she might like me. I made a fool out of myself. I wrote a letter which she said was good, one of the best she ever got (lmao) , only to tell me one week later that she can't talk to me anymore. she also blamed me for talking about this topic to another girl in my class, while she did the exact same. and that was our last contact, 6 months ago. I know I don't want or need or should talk to this person and I really thought I'm over it, we had no relationship and knew each other for 2 months. she also stopped visiting school. idk if that is because of me tho because she had problems with that from the start, just like me. that's why we started talking in the first place. but at the same time all these points could also be the reason why it is still on my mind. we never talked about this face to face, and that was my biggest mistake. instead of writing a corny letter and overwhelming her with my emotions I should have just talked to how I feel. I believe things would have gone another way. but the main reason why I still think about this so much is that I'm dreaming of her regularly. yup. in the beginning it was very often, now it is every few days. last night I dreamt that we had a class trip and she came late and started talking to me as nothing ever happened. it's always some fake scenario where we're still friends, or we're friends again. a few times I dreamt that shes calling or texting me to say sorry. sometimes when she called me in my dream I woke up right when I answered my phone. I don't know, maybe this sounds pathetic, maybe you think I need therapy, let me tell you I'm looking for it, but actually I don't want this to be a big topic in that therapy because I have enough trauma honestly. but I'm writing this because I hope that someone can give me advice on what to do to finally let that person go because nothing's gonna happen. I don't believe that time alone will solve this issue because as I've already said it's been 6 months and we had contact for only 2. it's like it happened in a different world for me but I'm still heavily invested, at least subconsciously. I'm not talking to anyone about his anymore because I know they don't wanna hear it anymore and I get that. and it also doesn't feel better after I talked to someone about it so why do it.

So I am 37(M) and my mother (73) before she passed away on 24/12 /23. The thing that happened was that my mom ended up, having health scares one after another last year. So essentially it was first when she was told to get minor cataract surgeries, this time of month last year and both her and me were busy with her tests and later surgeries in June, July. Since she had Care insurance, she applied for her cataract surgies claim - earlier both got approved for 30k each for both surgies costing almost 50k each but then suddenly they backtracked & said one claim was rejected as place where we got surgies done, was blacklisted later. Now the single 30k claim should have been deposited, right. But nope, it still stuck & since my mom later got diagnosed with stage-4 kidney cancer in September which really shocked both me and my mom as my mom's tests have always been decent, we couldn't follow up more than couple of attempts & instead got focused with dealing with the cancer situation. Irrespectively, I got her on keytruda immunotherapy asap as surgeon couldn't operate till it was reduced and my mom was indeed reacting very positively to the treatment despite some issues with side-effects. However despite my best efforts, my mother suffered a brain stroke and I had to take the difficult decision of taking her off life support while dealing with another care insurance tantrum where they rejected her icu charges when she was admitted as I rushed her to hospital while having a brain stroke. In short, I ended up paying almost 1lakh out of my pocket and still had to pay additional 2.5lakh for further processes which was further complicated by my narcissistic sister who was only around to get her inheritance & making my life hell so I had almost no time to arrange the amount as I had only 40k left. Thus I unfortunately withdrew funds from my mom's accounts (I am Nominee & had her credentials though I also refunded them once I had a more stable mindset & recovered from fevemy learning disability med issues throughout January). Either way, I initiated the Maharashtra govt ppo closure (I had refunded the amts taken from pension accounts prior to initiating paperwork) by Jan end & also approached local cbi home branch for also closing my deceased father's family pension to my mom. The branch manager directed me to this problematic deputy branch manager to whom I did admit that I had to withdraw funds from my mother's pension accounts but I have refunded them once I gathered resources(basically my sibling & family members are useless besides the fact that my sister has indulged in some criminal offenses like harassing me & my mom both before & after her death, etc while said family members did nothing besides ignoring my complicated health issues as I could have died the day my mom passed away). Since my mother also took 3 online FDs earlier in 2023, the deputy branch manager wanted me to break them & told me that individual account won't be closed & only her CIF would be directly deactivated. Also it was only few months for FDs to maturity & state govt pension closure was yet to occur - I told her that I will file for death claim settlement once state govt pension is closed & excess pension is recovered by them as deactivating the CIF will make this troublesome & a legal case. So she agreed to wait till state govt pension is closed and I gather all necessary documents in the meantime. Luckily state govt treasury did close the ppo & withdrew excess pension by 19th March while I also managed to transfer most of the mutual funds where I am Nominee. However since state govt treasury office (it's in another city from where I live & reasonably far), didn't give me letter of closure/confirmation - I was asked to wait for 1 month by local treasury officer (as financial year closing was approaching) which I informed to said deputy branch manager again. During this time, I also had to deal with legal paperwork as the lawyer my mom knew, didn't inform her or me to register the will, my mom made & also wasted my time in March. So I had to look for other ways to inherit one immovable property (my sibling holds 16.66% share and I have 83.34% as per my mom's wish to inherit the property as per her will), one problematic mf scheme transfer which I accidentally botched by editing Nominee details (still not sure as my mental health was seriously impaired in Jan/Feb & I also have same scheme, so not sure how it happened as there's no email confirmation except for an otp I found though I am not sure why I would update nominee details when I am already nominee there & even mentioned in will). Since UTI rejected both of my transmission claims so I am waiting for my current lawyer to complete the gift deed & apply for heirship certificate at municipality for filing my deceased mom's ITR. Also please note that despite timely updates to deputy branch manager, she let the FDs renew without my permission & has been acting dubious besides acting very rudely with me. So situation is,

1. I have filed compliant with cbi bank (or rather couple of them as again, I wasn't informed properly nor received proper feedback from bank plus despite calling customer care for almost 7 times, most aren't clear in their instructions as some mentioned different email-ids to complain to one asking to file a complaint with branch itself but I am not sure as branch manager said nothing despite my confrontation with deputy branch manager happening in front of him). Now I will be collecting the FDs physical certificates from branch & wait for resolution as said deputy branch manager is very suspicious(like asking me to file false FIR for missing online FDs physical certificates which I never had & whose online receipts I already have to also blaming me that I didn't tell her they were online while she wasted time & made me do a Rs500 stamp paper indemnity bond with additional documents like death certificate, AadhaPan, etc or saying there will be penalty for breaking autorenewed FDs that strangely got renewed on maturity dates without any prior indication & some things not adding up with new scheme plus the whole confusing me with different instructions & false claims all the time). Though luckily I have recorded the conversation with her first blaming me then backtracking once her fault was found. Also I atleast managed to travel to the distant city for closing state govt pension bank account & it was transferred to my savings account (it's at same problematic home branch) on 3rd May & de-activated my mom's CIF. So as bank resolution will take additional 15days to come(customer care first said 48hrs & now saying different), should I approach branch with resolution & LHC to minimize further problems despite being Nominee.(there's an error in relationship in cbi's savings account where my name & details are there but relationship is daughter instead of son but I already made Rs.100 self-affidavit as per dubious deputy branch manager instructions & all other documents including death claim form).

 

1. Applying for my mom's final ITR is necessary & I have already submitted most financial statements to my CA to compute including the TDS deducted on the FDs since I have been given July-end deadline. Plus as my mother & me spent more than 10lakh+ for her cancer treatment, I am hoping that I will get some deductible relief on her final itr besides tds. The issue is that I am still lacking any legal heirship document that will allow me to register as assessee for filing my mother's ITR. I did ask another bank where I am also nominee for mom's account, for issuing bank letter confirming Nominee details but they refused. However hopefully as I am going to execute a registered gift deed with help of my new lawyer that will mention my mom's unregistered will, I am hoping it allows me to register for the ITR. Otherwise I will have to approach local municipality office for issuing surviving family membeheirship certificate once gift deed allows me to initiate transfer property to my name.

 

1. There are still some untransferred assets such as a SBG linked to my mom's account besides the UTI scheme that's linked to same account(for uti, I already have most paperwork ready except that they asked for legal document that confirms relationship between me and my mother so while I can submit my passport copy though feeling it's better if will gets registered during gift deed process as it's mentioned there). Then there's the care insurance claim associated with same account & taken by bank officials of same bank yet it came to my attention that Care apparently messed my mom's name multiple times while issuing the policy & the claim hasn't processed as policy name & bank account name don't match (it's only a difference in middlename and could have been conveyed to my mom when she approached them multiple times). I did ask my lawyer regarding this & as amount is only 30k, he has asked me not to think about claim as for now as Care doesn't seem sincere as they haven't given it in writing that they will issue claim if I submit LHC/Registered Will with other documents. So while I will get SBG once I close the account & also uti mf scheme (hopefully), I am not sure if I should file a consumer case against Care (as an employee even misbehaved with my mom & the claim situation feels really fraudulent) or just hope that Care would honor the claim once I submit the documents.(they also only mentioned sending documents over email so again felt weird)

 
Overall all these incidents have seriously affected my health and frankly I need a break for myself as I am still struggling with my grieving (I saw my mom die 3 times & the family drama still triggers my cptsd though I am not suicidal or having med issues unlike in Jan besides still unable to take some personal time off due to these commitments). I also apologize if this post ended up too long or having details all over the place as I am still trying to piece together as much information I have as I do have written journal records of the paperwork & events that occurred though I forgot to list down some details here & there due to trying to manage everything by my own.

Does anyone else find the possibility of the church being true or it being a case of fraud equally confusing scenarios?
I mean if the church was true... Adam god theory? Joseph smith's 30 something wives? The book of Abraham possible mistranslations? The salamander letter thing which president Oaks tried to defend? What... is going on?
If it's complete fraud... just how did Joseph Smith fabricate a book as complex as the book of mormon in a few months... how on earth did the church thrive and survive through the years, just how did he do it? Because he would be the best farmboy fraud guy ever. I mean it would take most professional authors at least a year to write a book as complex as the book of mormon right? And with all his treasure hunting, printing press inventions, moving across the country, plus feeding his family... ain't no way he'd have time to do that....
JUST WHAT IS GOING ON AND WHATS WITH ALL THE WEIRDNESS