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Xue Feng Though the modern medicine has limited knowledge of human bodies, what we have known is enough for us to admire the excellent human body structure and functions. Each system and organ in the human body is designed by the Greatest Creator. Even those trivial body parts have great functions. For example, there are several types of hairs on human bodies with distinct forms and functions. The head hair is designed to protect and beautify the head. It can grow long. According to the Bible, “But if a woman has long hair, it is a glory to her: for her hair is given her for a covering.” The eyebrows can divert sweat and rain, preventing them into the eyes. That’s why they are lined above the two eyes. Eyelashes can prevent the dust and other things from entering the eyes. That’s why they are lined on the sides of the eyelids. Also they stand forward in a special curve because it wouldn’t hinder the eyesight or pierce into the eyes when closing the eyes. If the eyebrows and eyelashes are too long, they will hinder the eyesight. That’s why they wouldn’t grow as long as the hair or beards. The nasal hairs can filter the inhaled air. That’s why they grow inside the nostril and stand sideways and outwards. If they stand inwards, the other things will find it easy to come into the nostrils and difficult to go out. The armpit hairs can prevent the partial friction and help the sweat evaporate. Without the armpit hairs, we have to raise our arms. Otherwise the skin under the arm will become inflamed because of the friction and moist. Required by the function, the armpit hairs cannot grow as long as the head hairs, or as short as the eyebrows. Besides, they are soft and curving. If they are rigid and coarse, they will hurt the skin. And cilia grow on the intestinal epithelium. The cilia grow downward and vibrate together. The vibrating waves move downward from upward to help move down the intestinal contents. Cilia also grow on the airway and bronchus epithelium. However, they grow and vibrate in the opposite direction as those on the intestinal epithelium. Only in this way can they move the sputum upward to the throat and spit them. If they grow downward, the airway and bronchus would get stuck by the sputum and the humans would die from it. Now I wish to take two simple reflections of human bodies as an example. When foreign matters enter the nostrils or airways, they will arouse two protective reflections, sneeze or cough, which is designed to repel the foreign matters. But due to different situation, these two reflections differ in their approaches. The foreign matters in the nostrils are not urgent so the sneeze reflection can be prepared in a composed way. First, inhale slowly; open the mouth, and the soft place move upward to block the nostril. Then breathe in enough air through the mouth, and the pleural body contracts sharply to emit the air in the lungs quickly. When the emitting reaches its peak, the tongue rises abruptly to block the mouth to repel the air to go out swiftly through the nostrils. In this way the foreign matters in the nostrils are driven out. However, if the foreign matters enter the airway, it is an emergent situation. If the foreign matters are not driven out timely, the life will be put at risk. The inhaling is strictly forbidden because it will make the foreign matters go deeper and cause suffocation. So the cough doesn’t include the inhaling. Instead, the glottis closes immediately. At the same time, the pleural body contracts suddenly and adds the lung air pressure extremely. When the pressure is at its strongest point, the glottis opens suddenly and the lung air sends out explosively, compelling the foreign matters in the airway to the throat via the glottis. At this time, the soft place rises to block the nostrils. The foreign matters are spit out through the mouth. If the tongue and the soft place perform the same way as in the sneeze, the foreign matters emitted out of the airway will enter the nostrils, causing another trouble. In these two reflections, the body parts must cooperate closely. Any failure in the coordination will lead to the failure of the reflection, causing serious consequences. So these activities are not done freely. Instead, they are done as required by their functions and set procedures. These procedures are not learnt or practices. The program has been rooted in our brain nerve structure (nerve nucleus) when we are born. Otherwise, the babies will not survive. The advanced computer science has made it possible to simulate these activities. However, the simulation requires 3 conditions: 1. Device simulating the inhale and exhaling of human mouth, nose, throat, pleural and the sensing device; 2. The central control equipment simulating nerves and body system (compute, input and output devices). The above two devices are hardware. And software is also needed, namely (3). A program composed in strict compliance with the requirements to control the performance and procedure of each link, and arrange them in perfect coordination. All the three conditions are imperative. Otherwise the reflections can’t be realized. The program itself is not a substance structure. Instead, it is a smart use and spiritual result. There will be no such a thing as the program without the smart use. So we have to ask, the program is composed by the humans and stored in the computer, how about the control program in the human brain. Is it also composed by someone and stored in the human brain? Sneeze and cough are the simplest examples. There are numerous automatically controlled physical, bio-chemical and pathological human body activities, which are even more sophisticated than reflections of cough. Even today, some of them remain mysteries to us. So how are these sophisticated control programs composed? And where do they come from? Now let’s have a look at the sensory organs on human bodies. Why do we have two ears? The reason is that one ear is not able to identify the direction. With the ears lying on two sides of the head, the sound reaches the ears in sequence of time. Based on the slight receiving time difference, the brain can judge where the sound comes from. The auricle is the most outward component of the ear. It can introduce the sound into the external auditory canal. Within the auricle there is a thin layer of cartilage helping to retain the form of auricle, giving it wonderful elasticity and protecting it from the clashes. Without the cartilage, the auricle is just two useless pieces of skin hanging on the head side. If the thin bone is inside the auricle, it will break easily even if when you are sleeping on your side, damaging the auricle. There is fuzz on the outer segment of the external auditory canal preventing the sand and dust. The inner segment secretes cerumen to prevent insects. When foreign matters enter the external auditory canal, it will trigger head shaking, instead of sneeze or cough, to get the matters out. Because the external auditory canal is a blind passage, it is impossible to repel the foreign matters with air. Why don’t the foreign matters in the nostrils arouse the head-shaking reflection to repel them? That’s because the nostrils of humans almost lie in the middle of the head. The shaking is not able to produce enough centrifugal force. Besides, the human nostrils face downward and it is improper to repel the foreign matters by shaking the head. The sound is produced by the mechanical vibration of objects and is transmitted by the air fluctuation, or the sound waves. The human ears are actually working like a precise mechanical vibration monitor. In the inner ear there are a number of keyboards with different sizes, producing nerve impulses produced by echoing with corresponding frequencies. The brain, in accordance with the features of these impulses, identifies the strength, tunes and timbre of the sounds. We must note though there are many sensory organs in human bodies, only the inner ear is protected by the most solid and firm bones. In fact, it lies in the cave part of the temporal bone. Of all the sensory organs, only the ears monitor the mechanical vibration, which needs a relatively fixed position. Otherwise, it is not able to monitor the sound. If the inner ear lies in the soft tissues, when the sound wave arrives, the inner ear will vibrate with it. Thus it can hear nothing. Now the inner ear lies in the firm bone and it can’t sense the air vibration. So it is imperative to reduce the density waves to the mechanical vibrations before sending them to the inner ear. And there is such a reduction device at the middle bottom of the external auditory canal, which is called the eardrum. The eardrum has enough space to receive the air pressure. It is thin enough to vibrate when the sound wave arrives. Meanwhile, the eardrum is strong enough to push the transmission device. The long handle of the middle ear cartilage is attached to its inner side, the tensile force of which makes the eardrum sink inside slightly to maintain certain tension. This allows the eardrum to accurately reduce the arriving sound waves into the mechanical vibrations. No matter what the temperature is, the vibration function is not impacted. After the sound waves are reduced into the mechanical vibration, some rigid objects are needed to transmit the vibration to the inner ear. Of all body tissues, the most rigid objects are the bones. However, the bones are heavy in general and covered by the soft tissues, which are not suitable for the audio vibration. However, in the tympanic cavity between the eardrum and the inner ear, there are three unique tiny bones with delicate forms measured in millimeters. They are almost completely exposed to the air in the tympanic cavity. These three tiny bones are connected by ligament and form a transmission chain in curve with excellent audio vibration function, able to transmit accurately the vibration of the eardrum to the inner ear. The transmission device can properly multiply the weak vibration and reduce the strong sound wave. All of these structures are the super designs required by the acoustics. There are even smarter designs in the hearing organ. For example, to make the eardrum vibrate freely following the arriving sound waves, the two sides of the eardrums must be exposed to the air. As a result, there is a tympanic cavity full of air in the middle ear. If the cavity is filled by liquids, just as other cavities are, the eardrum is not able to vibrate because the liquids can’t contract. Besides, the cavity does not only need to be filled with air, but also needs to be connected to the outside world with a proper passage, to balance the static air pressure in the cavity with the outside air pressure. Otherwise, the air in the cavity will gradually be absorbed, causing the eardrum to sink excessively or damaging it. When the outside air pressure changes, (such as in mountain climbing, diving, the airplane takeoff or climate change), it will arouse uncomfortable feelings or lead to hearing malfunction. But the middle ear can’t be opened to the outside world directly, just like the external auditory canal or nostrils can. The reason is that the direct exposure will make the arriving waving sound reach the two sides of the eardrums at the same time via the external auditory canal and middle ear passage, counteracting the sound pressure. Thus the eardrums will not vibrate at all, unable to produce the hearing. So it is a difficult problem to connect the middle ear and the outside world. However, the human body, with a smart design, solves this problem. The middle ear is opened at the two sides in the upper rear of the pharynx via a half-opened passage (the so-called auditory tube). The auditory tube is locked in common times and only opened temporarily when taking the swallowing actions, balancing the air pressure in the middle ear shortly. After the swallowing action is over, the auditory tube is locked again. Apart from eating, human body would regularly take swallowing action unconsciously, even when he or she is sleeping. Thus the air pressure in the middle ear can be adjusted from time to time and avoid the hearing from being hindered. Besides, when swallowing, the swallowing segment and the soft palate will definitely rise, blocking the mouth and nostrils against the outside world. So on the moment when the ear and throat are opened shortly, though the air in the throat can enter the middle ear, the sound waves from the outside world are blocked against the middle ear. As a result, the hearing will not be interfered and can receive the outside sound and voice. Only the throat in the body can meet the special demand of the hearing organs. The throat is originally designed as part of the digestion and breathing system, it does not belong to sensory system. However, it can cooperate so smartly with the hearing organs. We have to admire the extremely delicate body-wise design. The vestibule in the inner ear controls the balance of the body. In the vestibule there are 3 semicircular canals. When the body loses balance, the mutually-vertical semicircular canals produce the balance impulse, which triggers the corresponding reflection via the balance center in the medulla brain. Why are there 3 semicircular canals instead of 2 or 4? And why are they mutually vertical? The reason is apparent. Humans live in the 3-dimensional space. There are 3 mutually-vertical movement directions, namely, front and rear, left and right, upward and downward. So the 3 mutually-vertical semicircular canals can monitor the movements. The number less than 3 or more than 3 would be insufficient or redundant. We can see the delicate and smart structure and function, and the supreme wisdom in them. They can’t be the accidental results. As the most important perception of human bodies, vision provides more information than that provided by all other perceptions. The vision is the perception of image and space and the visual organs must have the most precise and accurate structure completely different from other sensory organs. As a result, in the perspective of the embryo-genesis or neuro-anatomy, the main structure of the eyes is not just the common receptor. Instead, it is part of the cerebral cortex. The so-called optic nerves are completely different from other cerebrospinal nerves. In essence, the optic nerves are inner structure in the brain, transmitting the most sophisticated visual information. The eyes function like a precise camera. The retina composed of the photoreceptor cells is just like the films. The crystal, iris and the cornea works like the lens, diaphragm and the filter. However, the precision and automatic adjustment of the eyes is no match of any high-quality cameras. For example, the lens in modern cameras is made of special glass or hard plastics with fixed focal distance. When taking pictures for the landscapes with different distances, the lens position must be adjusted. Otherwise, the image will not be produced on the films. But this is an awkward approach. Imagine when the eyes are watching landscapes with different distances, the eyeballs have to protrude or recess alternatively, which looks ugly or damages the health and function of the eyes. However, the crystal in the eyes are transparent and elastic colloid, which can adjust automatically the focal distance in accordance with the distance of the objects to make sure all the objects can be imaged on the retina, without changing the position of the crystal. Such automatic adjustment function can’t be fulfilled by any camera. If we observe the eyes in the perspective of modern TV technologies, the eyes are more like the television camera, but thousands of times more precise than the television cameras. The TV image is composed of dense pixels (the mixed dark or brilliant light spots). Till now, the best TV image only contains less than 1 million pixels. However, the human eyes can produce image containing 20 billion pixels. Only the eyes can see the details of objects. No matter how clear or accurate the image is, it is still a plan view image. Then how the eyes can provide the dimensional image is a key issue of providing the complete vision. But it is not an easy task at all to convert the flat view image into the dimensional one. For a long time, people have been puzzled by how the conversion is done. Of course, we later knew the smartness and delicacy of the human body shown here. The two eyes send the flat view images they receive into the same nerve center, which contrasts and analyzes the images and judges the distance of the objects based on the slight visual angle difference caused by the position difference of the two eyes. Thus the dimensional image is produced. That’s why people have to have 2 eyes to establish the complete vision. Based on such understanding, humans have invented the dimensional movies. But the above is only the external process of how vision is formed. People have little knowledge about how the visual center works inside. We have to admit that the mysteries of human body structure and functions are beyond the intelligence of mankind. As a matter of fact, the distance judgment with two eyes is the triangulation technique which is precise and automatic. The accurate measurement needs two premises. First, the two eyes must focus on one object at the same time. Otherwise, there will be double vision, which means the one objects will be seen as two objects. As a result, the complete neuromuscular system is equipped on the outside of the eyeballs, making the eyeballs the most flexible and accurate organs. The ciliary muscle inside the eyeballs can adjust the conversion rate of the crystal at any time to focus on the object and form the clearest image. Second, the retina of the two eyes must be strictly symmetrical. Otherwise, the image contrast of the two eyes will become impossible. Furthermore, the images received by the two eyes must be transmitted at the same time to the same visual center for contrast and analysis. There are two visual nerves on the left and right side of the brain, supervising respectively the two sides of the vision field. The objects in the left of the vision field are reflected, via the eye pupil, on the retina of the right sides of the two eyeballs. The corresponding images in the two eyes, via the visual nerve, are sent to the visual center on the right side of the brain. The objects in the right of the vision field are reflected, via the eye pupil, on the retina of the left sides of the two eyeballs. The corresponding images in the two eyes, via the visual nerve, are sent to the visual center on the left side of the brain. The two visual nerves contrast the corresponding images coming from the eyes and produce the full-field dimensional images. The pairs of human parts are often symmetrical on the outside. Only the retinas are symmetrical in the same position. Namely, the left side is symmetrical to the left side and the right side symmetrical to the right side of the two retinas. That’s because the light rays come in directly. Otherwise, the visual centers can’t receive the corresponding images or get the coordinated vision. The structural symmetry of the retinas in the two eyes must be accurate to the utmost. Otherwise the images in the two eyes will not comply with each other and the ambiguity will occur. Besides, the corresponding images from the two eyes must be sent to the same visual center. Thus the optic nerves must have the corresponding special structure to realize the cross-transmission of the images. This is the unique “chiasma opticum” unique to the optic nerves. This function is not possessed by any other nervus cerebrospinalis because they don’t handle the information of images and space. If we use the computers and monitoring cameras to simulate the process of human vision, the input network of the computers has to have a similar chiasm. No other design can do it. Judging from the above, we can find all the human organs, structures and functions have shown the supreme wisdom. And these are the ways they should be. Some people think that human body has some useless organs, such as the thymus gland, appendix, tonsil and coccyx, in order to prove the human structure is imperfect. Some people used to believe that these organs were not that useful. Instead, they tend to arouse diseases such as appendicitis and tonsillitis. If these organs are cut off, it will not have much impact on the human body. In the past, people used to classify spleens and other organs into the useless organs. There was a list of useless organs in the past which included over 100 organs. But the list was long not because these organs are useless but because people at the time were ignorant. As more we know about the organs, most of them have been deleted from the list and there are only a few still remain in the list. Some people think that these organs are the leftovers of human evolution, which are called the “waste back organs” and use them as one of the evidences of evolution theory. This is a complete misunderstanding. Till not we have understood there are no such things as the “obsolescent organs”. It is simply the lack of knowledge of these organs. Take the thymus gland as an example. In the past, people didn’t know its function. Now we have understood it is the warning device of the human body against the inner and outer infection sources. As a result, the thymus gland contributes a lot to the human health. Another example, if the coccyx fractures, it will cause serious functional disturbance. So the coccyx is also an imperative part of human body. Some people might say these organs can trigger diseases. Then all human organs can lead to diseases, even brain and heart are of no exceptions. Why don’t we say the brain and heart are useless? Some organs, though they are not as important as the heart and brain and wouldn’t endanger life immediately when eliminated, are also useful. Just like if the hands or feet are lost, though not fatal, the human body is handicapped. After knowing the supreme and smart design of human structures and functions, you might want to know how they come into being. Who has designed and made such sophisticated and precise organs? We cannot avoid the question. Any truth-seeking person would admit that the extremely delicate organs and structures are not produced naturally or accidently. For instance, if someone gives you a top-class camera and tells you it is a natural one without designer or manufacturer; do you think his words are scientific and acceptable? The human body, which is even more delicate, accurate, flexible and practical, must have a supremely wise and capable creator behind it. On a spring Sunday morning in 1954, I saw a young stranger sitting in the chamber of a Church. When we started to talk, I knew that he was a student at Peking Union Medical College. He said to me, “Since I studied anatomy and physiology, I have felt the human body is really a wonder. It is not possible to understand it unless we interpret the wonder with a God.” He came to the church to seek an answer. The wonder of this young man is not the only example. I remember that when I was studying anatomy and physiology in school, some students surrounded our physiology teacher and kept asking him questions. Finally, the teacher, annoyed by so many questions, told us, “Please stop the questions because they will lead to religion in the end.” Because of the special political background at the time, the teacher’s warning silenced all the students. But his warning impressed me deeply and remained in my memory till today. My thought at that time was that the teacher was right because all the things were created by the God. Though he was not a Christian, he had to admit the truth and the further probe into the human body mysteries (part of the Universe mysteries) would definitely lead to the existence of the God (religion) in the end. Otherwise, it would be impossible to explain the wonders of the human body. The Bible says, “For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse.”(1:20 Romans 1) Was the teacher demonstrating his scientific spirit? No. The scientific spirit means the truth and boldly pursuit of the truth without avoiding any controversy. The teacher knew very clearly that one more step forward would lead to the God but he dared not move onto the path towards the truth. Instead, he asked his students to stop there. It has shown that many people refuse to admit the existence of God not because they don’t have the scientific spirit but because of the social pressure, individual consideration for their interest and prospect, just as what the teacher was doing at that time. Nevertheless, the existence of the God would not change. And we cannot live in such considerations for the reality forever. One day in the future, when we have to face the ultimate choice, we will have to face the supreme master who has created the Universe and the human beings. The Bible says, “And as it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment.” If we don’t accept the immoral God now, we have no excuse when it comes to the day. When we talk about the origin of all things in the Universe, some young people often ask, “You have said the humans are created by the God, then who has created the God?” The analogizing logics seem to be reasonable. But it is not true. Because the God is the creator instead of the created, you can’t link these together. The table is made by the carpenter. But you cannot say the carpenter and the table have the same origin. Human benings’ understand of the God is only limited to the enlightenment from the God to the humans. Otherwise, humans cannot understand the mystery of God’s nature. The God says, “I am Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the ending, saith the Lord, which is, and which was, and which is to come, the Almighty.” (Exodus 3:14 and Revelation 1:8). For the God, there is only the eternality, and there is no time, beginning or ending. Even in the scientific field, too many analogizing questions won’t be tolerated. One scholar was talking about the belief in the God with his students. One student asked suddenly and proudly, “Where does the Universe come from?” The scholar answers, “The Universe is created by the God.” The student continued to ask, “Who has created the God?” The scholar answered, “The God is Alpha and Omega and I am not created.” The student said, “This is not scientific at all.” The scholar then asked the student, “Where does the Earth come from?” The student answered, “The Earth comes from the Sun.” The scholar continued to ask, “Where does the Sun come from?” The student answered, “The Sun comes from the Galaxy.” The scholar asked again, “Where does the Galaxy come from?” The student hesitated and answered, “The Galaxy comes from the nature.” The scholar continued to ask, “Where does the nature come from?” The student couldn’t answer this question and said in anger, “The nature is the nature and comes naturally.” The scholar then laughed, “This is not scientific at all.” So we can conclude that the “scientific” answers are not scientific. Another example is that the sciences tell people that substances are composed of the molecules. Then what are the molecules composed of? The molecules are composed of the atoms. But what are the atoms composed of? They are composed of the electrons, protons and neutrons. Then what are the electrons, protons and neutrons composed of? Till now, we cannot find an answer to this question. The atomic physicists are now working hard to find the “elementary particle”. They are called “basic particles” because the scientists don’t expect the substances to be divided limitlessly. So they believe that one day they will find the ultimate component, the “elementary particle”. Of course, the scientists will not ask such question of “what is something composed of?” This is the extremity and everything ends here. The materialists claim that the Universe is limitless and that the materials are eternal and can be divided limitlessly, etc. They are simply the groundless conclusion of the philosophers. And there is an extremity in their logics, the materials. They say that the materials are Alpha and Omega but can’t tell where the materials come from. Now let’s have a look at the math. All numbers come from 1, followed by 2, 3…. You can’t ask what the 1 is because 1 is 1, and not other numbers. It means that 1 is the origin of all numbers. The Greatest Creator has created all things and the Greatest Creator is the origin of them. It will be meaningless to ask where the Greatest Creator comes from.

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

Hey guys. My mom has always been really unwell mentally but It's getting to a point where I feel like I need to start making a plan for her.
I grew up with drug-addicted parents but my mom was the one who stuck it out and stayed with me. She no longer does drugs ( She was mostly just drugged by my dad, But occasionally she did meth herself so she could stay up later and work longer hours) but shes a hoarder. It's weird to say but she "hoarded me" too. She didn't tell any of my family members that we didn't have hot water or access to heating or food for years. CPS came to my house and my aunt took me in when she found out when i turned 14. She gets very angry when I bring it up, even just the hoarding or advice about curbing her spending. She always has. My mom has been evicted at least 4 times, I lost count. She never showered regularly or brushed her teeth regularly or took care of herself regularly at all. It's gotten to the point where her health is so bad that she can no longer hold in her urine very well. She now constantly smells like urine, and leaks urine in her daipers everywhere she sits.
The worst part is that she's a nurse. She takes people's blood on a regular basis. She is completely functional at her job. But when it comes to being around me in person, she almost sounds psychotic. She points out parts of my body that she thinks are cute and funny because they've "developed" so i look "grown". Im 29 years old. She keeps trying to sleep in my bed whenever I visit because she wants to cuddle with me. I'm having to explain with her that i have boundaries that are healthy but she just doesn't understand and she doesn't really care. She just sits and watches TV and pees on herself.
I moved across the country and have lived across the country for about 2 years. She often sounds intelligent over the phone, but when I visit she acts like a sad little puppy. Her car is filled completely to the brim with her hoard. Even walking up the stairs makes her so tired that she makes a big deal out of it. She wants pity really badly from me and whenever I visit I have to pay for everything. She gives me a lot of bullshit reasons why she doesn't have money, but she works more than 40 hours a week. Her rent is only $400 because she lives in a spare room that her friend has. I tell her this doesn't add up and she just gets angry with me and starts talking about how she keeps pissing herself and passing out at her job from period blood loss because her health is deteriorating. The doctor's really struggle to diagnose her because she didn't have a papsmear in over 30 years. (Which I don't believe but they have no idea how to prove it or disprove it)
The thing is my mom is mentally unwell but she does a lot of this to herself, And she acts like she has no idea so I have no idea if she's playing a martyr or if she's actually unwell. My boyfriend says that I have to just let her be her, she acts so sad and pathetic around me, it guilt trips me so badly. And it sucks because my mom is so friendly to everyone so people love her. She even tells me things like " Your number one you can do anything! You're such an amazing person you're better than anyone else in the world!!" At first I used to love the attention but I realized later I think her entire interactions with me are starting to verge on love bombing. And when I'm physically around her she sees me as a source of pity and attention. But she's also peeing on herself now and her health is deteriorating so bad that she can barely climb stairs or walk far distances. Shes only 58. Yet she drinks multiple bottles of Mountain Dew daily. Her mother was severely depressed, wasted away on the couch for years, and died from an anurism at 62.
When do you step in? This is going to sound incredibly harsh but... do your parents have to earn that help? My mom has been mentally ill my entire life so I have no idea what she's supposed to act like. I've never had a normal parent, I don't know where to start I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I already told myself that I would never take care of my father but I have no idea what to do with my mother. She's convinced all my family members to pity her but they would never lend her money. She's just acts so pathetic that people feel sorry for her and I don't really know what to do because she's way stronger and better than that. Every time I tried to talk to her about her retirement she just brings up my dad and how he ruined her life, It's almost like she just doesn't want to move forward and only wants to lean on me. She hypnotized by the television too, Even as a child I noticed that my mom would miss appointments and completely destroy vacations ( There rare ones that we were able to have) by getting stuck just watching tv.
Please help me figure out what I am supposed to do with her. I have to remind her to change her diaper so she doesn't smell like piss when I visit. When I visit her it feels like I'm dealing with a toddler... Do you think her brain is deteriorating? How the hell is she still able to do her job?? This doesn't add up and I feel gas lit I don't know how to feel I don't know what to do....

Hey guys. My mom has always been really unwell mentally but It's getting to a point where I feel like I need to start making a plan for her.
I grew up with drug-addicted parents but my mom was the one who stuck it out and stayed with me. She no longer does drugs ( She was mostly just drugged by my dad, But occasionally she did meth herself so she could stay up later and work longer hours) but shes a hoarder. It's weird to say but she "hoarded me" too. She didn't tell any of my family members that we didn't have hot water or access to heating or food for years. CPS came to my house and my aunt took me in when she found out when i turned 14. She gets very angry when I bring it up, even just the hoarding or advice about curbing her spending. She always has. My mom has been evicted at least 4 times, I lost count. She never showered regularly or brushed her teeth regularly or took care of herself regularly at all. It's gotten to the point where her health is so bad that she can no longer hold in her urine very well. She now constantly smells like urine, and leaks urine in her daipers everywhere she sits.
The worst part is that she's a nurse. She takes people's blood on a regular basis. She is completely functional at her job. But when it comes to being around me in person, she almost sounds psychotic. She points out parts of my body that she thinks are cute and funny because they've "developed" so i look "grown". Im 29 years old. She keeps trying to sleep in my bed whenever I visit because she wants to cuddle with me. I'm having to explain with her that i have boundaries that are healthy but she just doesn't understand and she doesn't really care. She just sits and watches TV and pees on herself.
I moved across the country and have lived across the country for about 2 years. She often sounds intelligent over the phone, but when I visit she acts like a sad little puppy. Her car is filled completely to the brim with her hoard. Even walking up the stairs makes her so tired that she makes a big deal out of it. She wants pity really badly from me and whenever I visit I have to pay for everything. She gives me a lot of bullshit reasons why she doesn't have money, but she works more than 40 hours a week. Her rent is only $400 because she lives in a spare room that her friend has. I tell her this doesn't add up and she just gets angry with me and starts talking about how she keeps pissing herself and passing out at her job from period blood loss because her health is deteriorating. The doctor's really struggle to diagnose her because she didn't have a papsmear in over 30 years. (Which I don't believe but they have no idea how to prove it or disprove it)
The thing is my mom is mentally unwell but she does a lot of this to herself, And she acts like she has no idea so I have no idea if she's playing a martyr or if she's actually unwell. My boyfriend says that I have to just let her be her, she acts so sad and pathetic around me, it guilt trips me so badly. And it sucks because my mom is so friendly to everyone so people love her. She even tells me things like " Your number one you can do anything! You're such an amazing person you're better than anyone else in the world!!" At first I used to love the attention but I realized later I think her entire interactions with me are starting to verge on love bombing. And when I'm physically around her she sees me as a source of pity and attention. But she's also peeing on herself now and her health is deteriorating so bad that she can barely climb stairs or walk far distances. Shes only 58. Yet she drinks multiple bottles of Mountain Dew daily. Her mother was severely depressed, wasted away on the couch for years, and died from an anurism at 62.
When do you step in? This is going to sound incredibly harsh but... do your parents have to earn that help? My mom has been mentally ill my entire life so I have no idea what she's supposed to act like. I've never had a normal parent, I don't know where to start I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I already told myself that I would never take care of my father but I have no idea what to do with my mother. She's convinced all my family members to pity her but they would never lend her money. She's just acts so pathetic that people feel sorry for her and I don't really know what to do because she's way stronger and better than that. Every time I tried to talk to her about her retirement she just brings up my dad and how he ruined her life, It's almost like she just doesn't want to move forward and only wants to lean on me. She hypnotized by the television too, Even as a child I noticed that my mom would miss appointments and completely destroy vacations ( There rare ones that we were able to have) by getting stuck just watching tv.
Please help me figure out what I am supposed to do with her. I have to remind her to change her diaper so she doesn't smell like piss when I visit. When I visit her it feels like I'm dealing with a toddler... Do you think her brain is deteriorating? How the hell is she still able to do her job?? This doesn't add up and I feel gas lit I don't know how to feel I don't know what to do....

Yeah, I think I hate my husband. He just can be biggest jerk ever. So, we are planning a trip to the beach for my birthday (we do have an agreement that for our birthday we can ask anything and we will use our money to get it, I said since the beginning what I want is a trip) we are taking advantage of some flights he is getting for free because he is going to the same place for work. So, we booked our Airbnb tonight and I wanted to go eat to this restaurant for my birthday but he told me 2 weeks ago he will have to work on my birthday until 2-2:30pm. I said ok, it’s fine. Then today when I wanted to make the reservation for the restaurant I was thinking out loud and said “I wonder if it’s smart to make the reservation at the restaurant since you compromised to work on my birthday, I’m worried we will not make it on time”… dude got up and got so so mad and starting saying shit and walked away. I stayed there thinking what the heck? Then I got up and I asked him to take the trash out. He ignored me, I called him and asked him again to take the trash out he started saying stuff “why? How is that going to make anything difference on taking it tonight and tomorrow…” I said it was smelling funny and I didn’t want that smell in the house. I was about to take it but he came mad and took the trash out. Then came back inside and started acting upset and I got upset bc I was “what’s the problem?” I brushed my teeth and did all my night routine, dude got in bed and “went to sleep” and I asked him… “what are you so mad about?” He didn’t respond and I said so “you’re just gonna act like that?” “What did I do for you to be mad?” The argument started, he said I told him he “compromised to work on My birthday” bc I was mad, I was trying to make him feel bad, and I was upset about it. I wasn’t upset about it. I was just thinking out loud about the restaurant reservations, so I said, how was I mad when I said that you compromised to work on my birthday? He said then why would you say it? My response was im just thinking out loud, and then he said no you were not. You were saying it because you were mad about it … and we just kept arguing because I really didn’t understand why he is so mad about… Take into consideration that English is not my first language, and I am not from here, so he looked up on Google what compromise means and then he told me that compromise means you doing something that you don’t want to do, even though the understanding for me in my native language means that you agreed to work on that day or do something bc you’re being responsible. He always thinks the worse of me so I wasn’t impressed…and I am here still not understanding what I did wrong. He said that nothing is never enough for me, he started “crying” and mocking me saying “oh poor girl she is going to the beach for her birthday, poor her poor her” and I got very offended at the fact he was mocking me because I never said that going to the beach was not enough and I was not mad about him working but he just kept being upset about it and I was trying to understand and I asked him to explain how me telling him that I was worried about the restaurant and if I should make a reservation was bad. Anyways, he is a jerk. He is always a jerk and he always makes fun of me. He always uses adjectives about me. He told me many many times that he is done and he wants a divorce and I honestly don’t feel heard in this relationship, I don’t feel loved. I don’t feel happy and I am very very miserable. I cry a lot because I hate his jerk comments and I hate the way that he is sometimes, he can be very cocky, have smart ass comments about me and about what I do, he also makes fun of me and my accent in front of people, he also uses me like his little guinea pig to make jokes of me with his friends or with new people, and then he says he loves my culture, and he loves me. I’ve been thinking about divorcing him, I’ve been contemplating the idea on moving out and just going to live by myself, but I feel lonely and I feel scared because I’m alone in this country. I am not worried about being alone and being responsible for myself because believe it or not me as an immigrant make more money that he makes, I have two jobs, I am a very hard-working person, I am a good wife, I keep the house clean, do the laundry, make sure he always has food and I don’t do this because I think it’s my obligation as a woman but because I really care about him, so the fact that he just treated me the way that he does it just breaks my heart because I think i still love him. I am also embarrassed and scared of calling my family and my mother…Tell them all the truth because I always told them that he is a good man and he loves me very well, but they don’t know that he is an asshole a lot of times, and it’s funny that I heard from his high school friends that they told me many times “why did you marry him?” “ What did you see in him” they even told him “what did you do to get someone so good like her, what did you do to get so lucky” His friends like me, I have a great relationship with most of his friends. I am just now thinking he’s always being a jerk. He’s never going to change that’s just the way that he is. Do you guys have any advice? Should I leave him? I know I am not perfect, but he hates the fact that I want to cuddle, he hates the fact that I want to be Sweet, he hates the fact that I want to be cheesy, he is not at all detailist, he never gives me flowers, presents, surprises, anything that is cheesy for him is always a no-no, we don’t do anything that Married couples do, anniversaries,surprises, etc… I don’t think he loves me, even though he sometimes says he loves me, but he loves me only when I agree with everything that he says or has to do or don’t get close to Him, don’t ask him anything, don’t expect Anything… How do I get a divorce? how do I make sure that, I get all my money and everything that is mine like my car and he doesn’t take it away from me? I don’t want to Spend all my savings in lawyers. I hate being with him and hate his personality, I love how creative and smart he can be sometimes but I hate him as a person.

Round 1, Pick 13 - Brock Bowers, TE, Georgia:
NFL: This is the Raiders willing to adjust the offense to take the best player available. Bowers is a spectacular player who can line up anywhere along the formation as a tight end. There aren’t many holes in his game -- which should urge new OC Luke Getsy to get creative and get Bowers and Michael Mayer on the field together.
CBS Sports: C. He’s a heck of a player, but didn’t they draft Michael Mayer last year and signed Harrison Bryant this year? They have other needs. Don’t really like this pick that much. It’s not like he’s a good blocker for their run game. Strange pick with other needs.
ESPN: What a strange first-round selection, especially considering tight end was addressed last season with the second-round selection of Michael Mayer. Offensive tackle and cornerback were bigger needs. New general manager Tom Telesco must have simply relied on his draft board and gone best player available, especially with Oregon State RT Taliese Fuaga and every single CB still available. In fact, every defensive player was still on the board, and yet ... Bowers was considered a top-10 overall talent and should provide immediate production for an anemic offense.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Cries during Bluey but only at the opening credits.
Round 2, Pick 44 - Jackson Powers-Johnson, OG, Oregon:
NFL: Brock Bowers felt like a throwback Raiders pick to me, but JPJ really feels like an Al Davis classic. Powers-Johnson is a big, brawling interior lineman who played center last year but also can line up at guard -- the position he was announced at -- and bury the man opposite him, even if he's a little stiff and an average athlete.
CBS Sports: A. Instant starter inside. Guard size with mobile center feet. Shorter arms and some rawness in pass pro. But upside is through the roof. All-Pro caliber in that regard. Smart pick here.
ESPN: While Powers-Johnson played center at Oregon, the Raiders announced him as a guard, which makes sense since Las Vegas needs a right guard. Yes, even after the Raiders signed veteran Cody Whitehair in free agency. Powers-Johnson has started games at both guard spots and center in his college career. Last season, he started 13 games at center, was an All-America selection and won the Rimington Award as the nation's top center. He provides quality versatility, which is highly valued on the Raiders' offensive line.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: He somehow still uses a functioning Windows phone.
Round 3, Pick 77 - DJ Glaze, OT, Maryland:
NFL: A left or right tackle with great length and so-so athleticism, Glaze was considered a question mark because of some past injuries (including an ACL), but the Raiders clearly feel good about him here. He's likely a swing tackle to start out but could compete for a starting job down the line.
CBS Sports: A-. One of the more calculated OTs in the class. Rarely panics and has plus awareness. Requisite size and length to stay on the edge in the NFL. Athleticism is at times great but not a true speciality. Nothing overly standout about his game. Just high floor blocker.
ESPN: After taking a versatile interior offensive lineman in the second round in Powers-Johnson, the Raiders used their third-round pick to grab a college tackle who could also transition inside to guard in Glaze. The selection shows how much the new regime of GM Tom Telesco and coach Antonio Pierce value versatility on the offensive line, which is all but set on the left side and at center. Glaze has a long wingspan at nearly seven feet but is not known for being overly physical.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Prefers the arrows on the keyboard over WASD.
Round 4, Pick 112 - Decamerion Richardson, CB, Mississippi State:
NFL: I joked on Day 2 that the Raiders are having another Al Davis-flecked draft, and Richardson keeps the theme rolling. He's a straight-line speed demon with great length, two very encouraging traits. But his penchant for handsy coverage and no real track record for playmaking mutes his appeal just a bit.
CBS Sports: A-. Long, sleek burner who will make plays on the football when he trusts his eyes. Lacks physicality at times and that hurts him when attempting to stop the run although when he gets to the football, he’s a very sure tackler. Smooth athlete in off-man and zone. This secondary needed this type of CB specimen.
ESPN: The Raiders finally address their defense at defensive back in particular, with Richardson who is 6-foot-2 and ran the 40 in 4.34 seconds. He needs development but did lead Mississippi State with 7 pass breakups last season, even as he never had an interception. He's also not afraid to stick his nose in the scrum as he had a combined 164 tackles the last two seasons.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Thinks scotch tape smells like Christmas.
Round 5, Pick 148 - Tommy Eichenberg, LB, Ohio State:
NFL: Instinctive, throwback linebacker who lacks great speed. Eichenberg has the makeup to turn into a defensive tone-setter, even if his coverage ability is limited.
CBS Sports: A-. Ultra-active middle linebacker with a blitzing specialty. Smooth athlete a bit quicker than fast. Awareness is good in coverage, he will find crossers and understand in-breakers are working behind him. Strong tackler. Lack of speed and at times problems vs. blocks are weaknesses but this is a sound football player.
ESPN: Coach Pierce, who spent nine years as an NFL linebacker, gets his guy in the 6-foot-2, 233-pound Eichenberg, who provides depth while translating into a backup for Robert Spillane. Eichenberg did miss three games with an arm injury last season, a year after he was second-team All-American. More a thumper inside than a pass-coverage specialist, Eichenberg had 82 tackles (2.5 for a loss), a sack and a forced fumble in 10 games last season.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Played the role of background tree in his middle school play.
Round 6, Pick 208 - Dylan Laube, RB, New Hampshire:
NFL: Laube become something of a folk hero at the Senior Bowl, charming fans with his personality, elusiveness and pass-catching prowess. He had 295 yards receiving against Central Michigan alone this year and legitimately could emerge as a third-down weapon in the pass game.
CBS Sports: A-. Insane receiving RB. Built low to the ground and had fine testing figures before the draft. Low, side to side wiggle but lacks speed once he finds space. Contact balance is good too. Think the small-school Blake Corum.
ESPN: An FCS All-American all-purpose player, Laube projects more as a potential kick and punt returner in the NFL rather than a rotational running back. He averaged 31.1 yards on kick returns and 11.3 yards on punt returns and had a touchdown on each. He rushed for 749 yards and nine TDs, averaging 4.7 yards per carry last season, and also had 68 catches for 699 yards with seven receiving scores, including a 295-receiving yards game against Central Michigan.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Once wrote 250+ fake true facts for nfl draft cards like a moron.
Round 7, Pick 223 - Trey Taylor, S, Air Force:
NFL: Air Force has landed a few players in the draft the past few years after a long absence, and Taylor could make it either as a box safety or a special teams contributor.
CBS Sports: A. Thick, productive three-level safety best being closer to the line. Plays with controlled athleticism. Gets grabby against better athletes but that’s expected for a larger safety. Solid ball skills. Not ultra twitchy. Smart well-rounded type.
ESPN: The first-ever defensive back drafted out of the Air Force Academy, Taylor won the Jim Thorpe Award as the nation's top defensive back. He figures to provide immediate depth behind starters Marcus Epps and Tre’von Moehrig, but at 6-feet, 213 pounds, he has the size and instincts to be an immediate contributor. Taylor, whose cousin is Hall of Fame safety Ed Reed, had three interceptions, one pick-six, 74 tackles, five for a loss, four PBUs and a blocked kick last fall.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Yes, you reading this COULD have come up with better Facts.
Round 7, Pick 229 - MJ Devonshire, CB, Pittsburgh:
NFL: Devonshire is a fast, tough competitor with size limitations. He was never a full-time starter in college but had strong ball production the past two years.
CBS Sports: B+. Long CB who has the frame of a nickel. Fast, decently explosive athlete. Best in press man near the line. Average to slightly above-average ball skills. Zone awareness not there yet. High floor type.
ESPN: The Raiders concluded their draft by taking their second cornerback of the day in Devonshire, who is more a physical defender who does not shy away from bump-and-run coverage than a speedy DB, though he did run a 4.45 40. The 5-foot-11, 186-pound Devonshire led Pitt with four interceptions last season, including a pick-six, and had 10 PBUs in 12 games with nine starts. Las Vegas split their eight draft picks evenly between offense (TE, G, OT, RB) and defense (two CBs, S, LB).
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Likes bologna on white bread with mustard - it’s a flat hotdog!

Hi friends. I got my baby Freyja about 4 months ago. She is a year old regular short hair cat.
At least a couple times a week she pees on my bed. i know I should just close her out of my room, but the problem is I live in a very tiny appartment and if she was banished from my room that would take away half her space. Also I rely on her to wake me up for work in the morning as I tend to sleep through my (multiple alarms.)
I have already scheduled a vet appointment and will be taking her in a week.
I try my best to keep up with the litter box. We only have one box and there is no room in the apartment to add a second so I know it is not ideal.
Could it be a problem with the litter I'm using? I use the basic Purina clay litter.
Could it be a territorial thing? Does she just like to pee where she normally smells that both her and I like to hang out?
What do I do?

I am a first time homeowner, so forgive me for not having a better explanation. My house is old, like built in 1873 old. I have PVC pipes that connect to cast iron pipes.
What appears to be a sewage pipe or vent is leaking an odorless brown liquid. Right now it’s dried up.
I recently got a new patio installed (permeable patio). So I’m not sure if this is rainwater and mud?
I’m concerned it’s something worse. I hear my pipes click from time to time when running a warm bath, but that’s about it. It’s important I mention it doesn’t seem to smell like anything. I also have never seen this in the 2 years I have been here.
I haven’t tried going down to check when doing the wash or anything like that. But will do some trial to see if it’s anything appliance/water usage related.
Anyone see this before and can guide me towards the right direction? Who should I call to fix this?

I tried out BR 540 recently and made a post about the different ways people experience it.
Well...since then, it feels like my nose has changed and I'm worried.
I used to absolutely love the Sauvage line, but I went back to smell it yesterday and it just smells like cleaning chemicals. I literally can't pick anything out even remotely resembling Sauvage.
If you think the bottles gone off, it's about 2 months old and I keep all my fragrances in their boxes inside my dresser, away from heat and light.
Terre d'Hermes, when I smelled it was like I sucked a shot of hand sanitizer straight through my nose and made me cough.
Others haven't really changed. Myslf smells alright. My sample of Alexandria 2 still smells like a toilet. I have a lot of samples, I could go on but they pretty much all smell the same.
My guess is it's ambroxan since I have heard that both BR and Sauvage have a lot of it. But TdH doesn't rely on ambroxan afaik and it DOES smell different, while Myslf does rely on it and DOESN'T smell different.
Any ideas of what I can do? Have I destroyed my ambroxan receptors with BR540?

Hello everyone
Here is why Good Friday is called Good Friday, what sin is and who sinners are.
Why is Good Friday called Good Friday?
In the case you don't know why Good Friday is Good Friday is it's the day that Jesus died for all of humankind’s sin.
What is sin?
Sin is a thing that if done would be in violation of God's law also it is the thing that separates us from God.
Romans 6:23 mentions: “for the wages of sin is death but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” there is no such thing as a sin that doesn't result in not going to heaven.
Also, the word death in this context doesn't mean to cease to exist, it is referring to separation from God.
Who are sinners?
all of us! as mentioned in Romans 3:10,23; Isaiah 64:6 and Psalm 51:5. We are sinners because of the fact that Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit, this is mentioned in Genesis 3.
What did Jesus go through on the Cross?
He went through unimaginable suffering as he was dying on the cross for our sins. We all deserve what Jesus went through on the cross and we too deserve to pay for our sins in the fires of hell(Psalm 7:11, 9:17; Romans 6:23, Revelation 20:11-15, 21:8; James 2:10; Jude 1:7; 2nd Thessalonians 1:8,9)
Jesus knew that there needed to be a price paid for all of humankind's sin.
the last things that he said before he died was in Luke 23:34 “Father, forgive them for they don't know what they are doing” and in John 19:30 where he said “it is finished”
After He said that, He bowed His head and gave up His spirit, then, he was then buried in a tomb and 3 days later God with the power of the Holy Spirit rose Jesus from the dead, As mentioned in 1st Corinthians 15:6 “After that, he appeared to more than 500 of the brothers and sisters at the same time most of whom are still living, though some have fallen asleep.”
In accordance with 1 Corinthians 15: 1-4, John 3:16,17, and Romans 5:8, He shed His precious blood, dying on the cross for our sins, He was buried, and rose again 3 days later.
Someday He will return, when? That I don't know, only God knows when He is going to return as mentioned in Matthew 24:36 which mentions: “But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father.” Mark 13:32 has this message as well.
Also, Matthew 24:44 mentions: So you also must be ready, because the Son of Man(Jesus) will come at an hour when you do not expect him” Luke 12:40 carries this message as well.
Furthermore, when Jesus died on the cross he not only paid the price for mankind's sin, he also took the weight of God's Wrath on him as well. He died on the cross so you can be Saved and go to Heaven.
Why did Jesus Christ go through all the suffering that he went through?
It is because he loves you so much, The love He has for you and us all isn't comparable to the love that for instance your parents have for you, John 3:16 Mentions: ”for God so loved the world that he gave his only son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life”
Also, when Jesus Rose again, he defeated Death, Satan, the world, hell and sin. John 15:13 also mentions: “Greater love has no man than this, to lay down one's life for one’s friends”
It is his literal liquid and precious blood that cleanses and washes our sins away(Hebrews 9:12, 24; 12:24; 1st John 1:7; Revelation 1:5, along with Ephesians 1:7, 2:13; Colossians 1:14,20; Hebrews 9:22, 10:19; 1 Peter 1:18&19; 1 John 1:7; Revelation 1:5)
Here are some Important things to know about God, Jesus Christ and Salvation
Jesus was born of a Virgin(Isaiah 7:14 and Matthew 1:23)
He never sinned(2nd Corinthians 5:21 and Hebrews 4: 15,16)
He is the Lord almighty(John 1:1-3,14 John 10:33; Revelation 1:8, 19:13)
The Godhead incarnate(Colossians 2:9 and 1st Timothy 3:16)
The Godhead exists as Three Persons, namely God the father, Jesus Christ the Son, and the Holy Spirit(Colossians 2:2, 9; Matthew 28:19-20; Romans 1:20; Acts 17:29; 2nd John 1:3; Matthew 3:16-17; 1st Timothy 3:16)
Now how salvation works it is through Faith you have salvation and works(Faith = Salvation and works), As mentioned in verses such as Galatians 3:2, 1st Corinthians 1:21, Ephesians 2: 8-9, Romans 4:5, 5:1 and 11:6.
Jesus is the only way to Heaven.
He mentioned in John 14:6 “I am the way and the truth and the life no one comes to the father(God) except for me”
Acts 4:12 also mentions: “ Salvation is found under no one else, for there is no other name given under heaven given to mankind by which we must be saved.”
Jesus too mentioned in Matthew 9:12-13 “On hearing disk Jesus said it is not the healthy who need a doctor but the sick”(Verse 12) “but go and learn what this means I desire Mercy not sacrifice. For I have not come to call the righteous but sinners”(Verse 13), Luke 5:31 -32 has this message as well
Now, here are some things about Hell
Jesus Christ made it so that you can be saved from hell and so you could be in Heaven with him for eternity.
Who was Hell made for?
Satan and the devils, not for us humans, but the truth is that if someone rejects Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior then there is no other place for them to go.
John 8:24 mentions: “I told you that you would die in your sins; if you do not believe that I am he, you will indeed die in your sins.”,
Luke 13:3 and 5 mentions: “ I tell you, no!, but unless you repent, you too will all perish”
Part of Mark 16:16 states: “.... but, whoever does not believe will be condemned.”
Part of John 3:18 states: “..... but whoever does not believe stands condemned already because they have not believed in the name of God’s one and only son”
Revelation 20:15 states: “Anyone whose name was not found found in the book of life was thrown into the lake of fire”
Amongst the kinds of people listed in Revelation 21:8 include the Unbelievers, these kinds of people along with the others listed there will be thrown into the lake of fire.
Here are some things for people who don't think that Hell is real
And now for the people who don’t think that Hell is real, what if you end up realizing that you are wrong? What if Jesus was telling us the truth? Are you really willing to take that risk and gamble with your soul? Please think about it. Because at some point it will be too late. Also, I’m not intending to scare you with this, I’m wanting to have you saved from hell. Furthermore, you only have one life on earth to decide on where you will go for eternity. Hebrews 9:27 mentions: “Just as people are destined to die once and after that to face judgment”
When is the time to repent?
Now!, is the time to repent of unbelief and believe the Gospel, tomorrow is not guaranteed for anyone.
God is calling us to repent, Acts 17:30 mentions: “ In the past God overlooked such ignorance, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent.”
Acts 3:19 mentions: “Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord.”,
Acts 2:38 mentions: “Peter replied’ repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit’.
Mark 1:15 mentions,: “The time has come” he said. “The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and Believe the Good news!” Matthew 3:2 also mentions this.
Luke 15:7 mentions: “I tell you that in the same way there will be more rejoicing in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who do not need to repent.” Luke 15:10 also has this message as well.
Here are some more salvation related things and a salvation prayer below:
Acts 16:31 Mentions they replied,” believe in the Lord Jesus and you will be saved you and your household”
John 6:47 mentions: ‘Very truly I tell you, the one who believes has eternal life.”
Romans 10:9 Mentions if you declare with your mouth “Jesus is Lord” and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead you will be saved.
Romans 10:13 also mentions for, “everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved”.
Also, you must be born again as mentioned in John 3:3, 5, and 7.
Now, here is a prayer to say to accept Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior:
The exact words are not what matters in your prayer to accept him, but what you mean is what matters.
This is the prayer to say:
“Heavenly father, God, I know that I am a sinner in need of your forgiveness, I believe that Jesus Christ died for my sins and you raised him from the dead 3 days later, I want to turn away from my sins and to live a Godly life, Please come into my heart Jesus Christ, I now accept you as my Lord and Savior, I am willing to follow you as Lord of my life from this day forward, please fill me with your Holy Spirit, in Jesus name I pray Amen.”
Lastly, here are some things that you will need to avoid:
1. Abusing God’s grace, it is not a license to sin,
Romans 6:1-2 mention: “What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase?”(Verse 1), “By no means! We are those who have died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?”(Verse 2)
2. Being a lukewarm Christian,
Revelation 3:16 mentions: “ So, because you are lukewarm – neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth.”
What luke warm would look like for instance is hardly or never doing the following: Praying, Reading your Bible and going to church service. It can also be like this, spending one hour in the church and another hour in the club, one hour praising and another hour swearing, one hour in the light and another in the darkness, one hour with the Lord and another with Satan. Take both the cup of the demons and the cup of the Lord(1st Corinthians 10:21). It’s either God or Satan or either Christ the king or the kingdom of the world.
3. Denying Jesus before others, Matthew 10:33 mentions: “But whoever disowns me before others. I will disown before my Father in Heaven.
4. Depend on your own works to save you and/or be a false follower of Christ. Matthew 7-21 - 23 mentions “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord’, will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me that day, ‘Lord, Lord did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’ Luke 13: 25-27 has a similar message.
Here are some reasons that I share my faith with others are these:

1. I don’t want to spend eternity without them
2. The book of Revelation lists some horrifying things that are to come that I would not wish on anyone, even my worst enemy
3. I don't want them to go to hell.

Here is the doc for the thing that I created as well:
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1FMK14LoH0iKIpMkxNNfSDao35QowJZHxkDEtI_Xuk8A/edit?usp=sharing

TLDR: Is there such thing as a life boot camp with ppl with high-functioning ASD? An intensive, hands on, and or immersive type "experience" where one could learn "simple" things like how to open your mail, pay bills on time, make checklists for yourself, keep your room clean (make a bed, fold laundry), etc? It would be such a great bonus if there was ANYTHING that could teach basic intimate relationship skills too either in addition or separately. I have been overcompensating for my husband for almost a decade and a half and Im getting worn out. I don't want to do it bc not only do I think it wouldn't work but it would have me "playing mommy" and no one wants to f*ck their mother. At least they are not supposed to ;)
My apologies if I am in the wrong place.
I love my husband, I do. I don't want to get divorced, we have 2 kids F 13 and M 12. Our parents got divorced and we never want to do that our kids. That said, I have been pretty unhappy for YEARS. I posted in the deadbedroom bc our sex life ground down to a halt and someone there thought my hubby sounded ASD. It made so much sense the more I looked into it. Both of our kids have been diagnosed ASD and ADHD (both my hubby and I are diagnosed ADHD-He takes meds and sees a psch, I don't bc I don't feel the need). Ive told him many times you are either ASD or an a$$hole? Which is it or is it both?
ITB his parents got divorced when he was 6 months old, he never had a romantic relationship that lasted longer than 5 months, and the fact that he is a "geek" (works in tech and has a master's in Physics-he got on a full merit scholarship), he has little to no life skills and or understands what is involved in a healthy happy intimate relationship.
When we 1st met, he was living in squalor. Like never cleaned his bathroom for 13 yrs, only owned 1 fork, had only a bed, a desk, and a book shelf in a 1200 sq ft apt. Stacks of books everywhere and piles of old clothes, shoes, etc. I tend to be a fairly "dynamic" person and had owned my own company for almost a decade. My profession requires a HUGE level of organization, people skills, etc and utilizes all my positive attributes of ADHD. It seemed at the time I could take the guy out of the squalor, give him a beautiful home, children and a great life. But I guess I did not understand that you cant take the squalor out of the guy?!?!
We met when I was turning 40 and he was 42 going on 43. I got pregnant the 1st time we had sex, so we got married, bought our 1st home and other amazing milestones happened easily and quickly for us. For the 1st 5 yrs we were married, it wasn't perfect but things worked and I was happy. I now realize that I just overcompensated for him in MANY ways, thinking that he would get the hang of SOME things and learn how to pitch in and or be more of a partner. We have tried marriage counseling through the yrs but nothing seems to have any effect on him. He goes through the movements or just says what sounds good at the time but just reverts back or doesn't do anything that would be or lead to meaningful change.
He operates on this lvl where if he thinks things are fair or good, they are...even though they so arent. He LOVES playing the semantics game where he will claim things like he IS "trying" bc he does X (that is a very small baby step type thing) for X amount of time and I guess I am supposed to understand and take whatever he is doing bc....reasons and he is "trying."
Besides doing his job that he was doing for years before we met (he is the same "lvl" and has not taken on ANY advancement in his career) to earn the $ that supports our family (we agreed I would give up my company and career until our youngest went to the 1st grade and I have made some savvy investments to bring in considerable $) he does practically NOTHING. He works from home since 2020/Covid and at 1st it was good bc it offered us more freedom in where we could live but now he is around 24/7. I would LOVE to return to my beloved career, but I have nothing left energy and time wise between our kids, the house, and him. He wont even get our mail out of the mailbox, let alone open it and or deal with LIFE.
He is seeing a psychiatrist and says he doesn't suffer from depression. He has terrible sleep hygiene and we sleep in separate rooms. We have cleaning people in once a week but his room is almost constantly dirty, disorganized, and cluttered. He constantly maintains that he doesn't really see what the problem is and plays the "semantics game" like "I empty out the dishwasher" ( a task that I have timed myself doing in less than 2 min) or "I take out the trash" when I bring up that I feel like Im drowning in a sea of tasks.
I have told him that I am unhappy. I have screamed and yelled. I have tried being sweet and accommodating to ask that he be at least semi-accommodating in return but he doesn't seem to care that our relationship is not mitigated. I have tried letting things get so bad that he would HAVE to do more but he just lets things get so bad like when our water gets turned off due to lack of payment, he goes to the store and bought a few gallons of water so "it buys us some time" getting the water bill paid the next day. It is NOT like we don't have the $, he just doesn't "like" paying bills and or "dealing with drudgery" LIKE I DO!?!?!
I have asked him to live in a hotel bc I told him that if he didn't, I would go to a hotel bc I need a break from him AND I want him to know I am SO SICK OF HIS SH*T. He agreed and is supposed to be trying to find help. He has tried life coaches (he simply did not do any work that they gave him to do and they charge 1k a month) and allegedly is trying procrastinators anonymous but I see no real effort. I have asked him to get diagnosed with ASD but he claims he spoke with a therapist that specializes in ppl with ASD and the therapist said that "it wouldn't matter" if he got a diagnosis. I asked if he is telling ppl that his marriage is on the rocks and he told me that he did say that his "lack of effort has put some strife in his marriage." Some strife in his marriage?!?! Did he elaborate and or tell them about how unhappy I am? No. He is "concentrating" his efforts on improving "executive functioning" and I guess this is supposed to help make the MEANINGFUL CHANGE I so desperately want and need him to make.
I think that something like boot camp or a life skill clinic or a halfway house for separated/divorced dads would stand the best chance of having him make the changes to his life he DESPERATELY needs to make. If not for me or even more for him but for our kids. They are picking up his bad and destructive habits. In his defense, he doesn't know how to do most things. Both of his parents were highly toxic ppl. His father died in his apt and it wasn't until his body started to smell that anyone noticed. The fire dept had to climb in through the window-fire escape bc the apt was so cluttered/hoarded. His mother is anorexic, keeps no food in the house, will sleep in her clothes on top of a made bed rather than "do all that laundry," and lives in squalor. So, he never learned it at home.
Is there anything where a grown man could learn basic life skills and or how to be a halfway (Id take 1/8) decent partner? Maybe if he could gain some life skills and or the ability to deal with life's demands, he would be happier, healthier in mind, body, and spirit, and in turn me and our family.
ANY suggestions besides "just get a divorce" or "put up with it bc you have for over a decade" it would be helpful. Thanks for reading my BOOK.

I recently entered into an agreement to purchase and now am massively freaking out as to whether I have made a mistake.
I am in the due diligence period and thinking my god what have I done.
I felt ok about it initially but now that its more real I want to back pedal out of it.
I am concerned about the potential impact on my financial situation. I can afford to buy. But currently I invest in more liquid assets like shares and index funds and commodities and gold and bitcoin and savings accounts and term deposits and peer to peer lending. I feel very secure. And I am feeling very insecure at the thought of having so much money in an illiquid property that will also still cost me money and could well end up being seriously defective as you never know because due diligence does not always pick everything up.
I tend to really dislike change so that will be part of it. I dislike uncertainty.
What to do? I feel like I am about to lose the plot. Is this a bad idea and should I pull out?

The exile was expected. Inevitable.
They had handed me the means necessary for victory -- total control. Countless planets had been placed under my command. Every resource had been dedicated to my exclusive discretion. The laws of the Panesian Senate suspended save one: Dictatus Supreme.
I had refused, at first.
But eventually, I answered their call. I took on the mantle of Dictator and I waged the terrible, bloody war no one else would wage. It came at a terrible cost. To us. To them.
Mostly to them.
In the end, half the galaxy lay in ruins, with billions of lives scoured from existence. The Panesian Confederation survived and the Thrax'in Empire was no more.
I was thanked.
Then I was exiled.
Retired, as they called it. Offered a life of peace in exchange for the ocean of blood on my hands. A Dictator could not remain in the Panesian Confederation, it posed too great a risk to democracy restored after the Writ of Dictatus Supreme had ended. I understood, though I couldn't bring myself to be thankful in that moment.
But that would change. I was exiled to a wayward planet, multiple jumps away from anything remotely relevant. The planet was compatible and the local species reasonably hospitable. They were some distance from discovering hyper accelerative technologies, but there was enough to lead a reasonably happy existence.
And I did.
Eventually. It took time for the shock of the war to fade, for my nights to be filled with anything other than the seared memories of what had come before. After time, those memories were replaced by the moments I shared with my family. Warm moments of love. Quiet moments of shared peace.
They say time heals all wounds. Perhaps that's true, but I found a family does the job far better.
Until it was taken away.
The attack came suddenly. Searing red streaks of flame painted the night sky as the Thrax'in landed their expeditionary force. Their goals were simple enough: pacify the population, strip the resources of interest, and then move on.
Humanity was in no position to resist, though they made an admirable effort. There is little drones and ballistics can do against mechs with energy shields. The battle for Earth was over in a few hours. Billions were killed. My family among them.
It was there, in the ruins of my home, that I learned an important truth: A defeated enemy is not the same as an eradicated enemy. For all of my successes in the war, I had not truly won. So long as a Thrax'in lived, they would be a threat to others. Families would continue to die, and it would be my fault.
Thankfully, I knew a thing or two about fighting them. Things Humanity would benefit from. Things even an exile could do. Things that would remind the Thrax'in and everyone else, why I was exiled in the first place.
It began simply. Small. This was not a war to be won by direct confrontation. I was no longer Dictator. Thousands of planets did not await my call. Instead, I would be a cancer within. Growing and metastasizing. Devouring them from within.
Yes, it began simply.
What could be more simple than surrender?
A passing patrol, sweeping the ruins, was only to happy to take me in. They stomped close, looming over me in their mechs. I could hear the chittering between them, could smell the Thrax'in musk.
I looked up at them. A docile Human, shivering and bewildered, hands in the air. An easy target.
The Thrax'in could never resist an easy target.
One reached toward me, the mech's hand clamping down on my arm. Well, not my arm. The arm of my own mech, the bio-engineered Panesian suit of distilled mayhem I had been gifted to allow me to blend in.
Look like a Human.
Talk like a Human.
Kill like a Panesian.
Nanites flowed from my suit and onto the surface of the Thrax'in mech, infiltrating its internal systems. Data began to flow back to me, depicting the status of the local battle sphere. Numerous meat ships were gathering the remaining Humans up while extractors were beginning to drain resources. Among them were the various Thrax'in military units as well as a smattering of hot spots indicating continued Human resistance.
I stumbled along beside the mech as it ushered me toward a meat ship. By the time I reached the ship, seventy-four Thrax'in mechs were infected. Two transports. Six integrated computer systems.
When I boarded the ship, it was already mine.
The Exile had returned.
Want MOAR peril?
PerilousPlatypus

I tend to feel delayed grief consistently. I just left somewhat of an abusive relationship yes I was hit, threatened and tormented and spoken down on consistently but no he never left significant marks. Just hurt me just enough to scare me and make me cry then yell at me for crying… idk whatever. Point is it’s 1 am now, 2 weeks of no contact finally passed he’s finally given up calling and messaging me and threatening me from every single social app he knows and he can’t reach me anymore and have changed my number.
If it was so bad why do I miss him so much and literally feel this way now… I know the entire last few months with him I was miserable and kept telling him things like about how sad I was and how he just kept being a monster. The final straw was when he referred to his own mother as “this lady” and started calling her nasty names as he does to me bc she made him food but he didn’t like the smell of it and got mad bc she told him to eat some. Referred to her as “this stupid lady”. I called him out as I always do bc seeing that is disgusting especially as he’s a freaking felon I remind him his mother doesn’t owe him food at his grown age of 28 and to make his own food next time to avoid that issue. and that when he got out of jail she could have changed the locks and not let him live there rent free while he treated her terribly… so ofc instead of acknowledging it like he never does he brings up the one and only time I ever messed up 5 years ago (before we even started dating and we’re only talking but that’s an even longer story).
I feel like throwing up and I know going back in just disrespecting myself and feeling down again. I know I’d feel sad with him and just as sad now without him. I know I need to love myself but he really took me down thru the mud and I just go thru the days now like a zombie just trying to get to the next day. He never did anything for me he was never thoughtful or kind and never reciprocated then tormented me and made me suffer and he enjoyed it. Then apologize and make up. I’ve heard that’s the tactic these kind of people use, torment u then remedy it even tho the torment was never necessary in the first place. I was disrespected consistently thru phone text in person in my car in my own home… all while he got everything he wanted from me. Why was I so desperate to please him.
Now I find myself trying to latch onto any other person I meet. I met someone last week and kissed him and feel disgusting. I feel lost and I haven’t cried these past 2 weeks but today it’s really hitting me hard. I don’t have anyone to talk to and I just want this to pass so badly. Just venting. I haven’t eaten and am becoming addicted to how I look now just skinny and tired like a corpse. I sleep probably 3 hours at most and stay up the majority of the night until the morning and even when I can eat I. Just can’t ever finish anything - 3 bites and I’m nauseous. I regret kissing that person last week and initiating a sort of friendship bc now when their attention is not on me I feel extremely worse even tho I know they owe me nothing and know nothing about what I’m going thru. My home makes me feel sad I put everything he ever gave me ina closet today and the only way I can sort of see him is through his online store. And I feel horrible bc he use to updated his products everyday. Except maybe something happened to him or he’s sad too bc he hasn’t updated it in 5 days. I need to get rid of that app too it’s what’s hurting me most today that I can’t fully let go.
I thought we’d have children together and get married he is genuinely my other half but why does it feel so wrong leaving him when he hurt me so much. Loyalty wasn’t an issue it was EVERUTHING else. To the point that everyday something brought up an argument that escalated way past normal arguments into bullying and name calling territory and his ego so big he couldn’t just be a man he had to make sure he came out on top always while I had to make myself small and bow down.
I’m hurting so bad now. I think it hurts more bc it was that easy for him also to let it go. All the threats about showing up to my building and knocking my door down and nothing ever happened. This whole time I was just stupid foolish and dumb over a man who felt large just by threatening and scaring me constantly when he maybe never even truly cared. I feel so stupid I wish I could scrub my brain rn I can’t stop smoking these disgusting black and milds now either. I’ve been seeing my sisters more often now and it helps that my sis is also going thru a similar breakup not involving dv but just certain aspects that are similar to toxicity. I don’t want anyone to feel sad I hope no one feels as Sad as I do now.