A first grade teacher s poem about her job

Hi everyone, I already anticipate that I’ll be rambling, so my apologies in advance.
I’m (F24) about a month away from graduating with my Masters degree from a prestigious university. I’ve also landed my first “big girl” job that I’m starting next week, it seems mediocre but pays decently (for someone without kids or many expenses)- I’m just grateful I was able to get my foot in the door somewhere.
A lot of people around me tell me that I’m “smart” and “ahead of the game” compared to others my age, but I don’t feel this at all. My Masters was stressful at times, certainly wasn’t a walk in the park, but I don’t think I busted my a** to get it. I don’t feel accomplished, I don’t feel that my life amounts to something. I feel like people around me are doing bigger and better things— my sister just got a co-op at one of the Big 4, my friend from my Masters’ program got accepted into med school and though I am happy for her, seeing this crushed me. And the thing is, I don’t even want to go to med school, I just wish I was capable of achieving something so difficult.
I thought getting a job would fill this void but it hasn’t. I don’t feel like any of my “accomplishments” are worth celebrating. I don’t know how to go up from here, I feel so stuck and that I cannot enjoy life because I’m not where I want to be yet, but I don’t even know where that would be. I can’t believe I’ve given so much of myself to school, only to be here. I’m scared I’ll waste my 20s feeling like this. I don’t even feel like I deserve to feel better.
There’s so much to unpack here but any words of wisdom would be great. Thank you!

Today I want to tell my story of how I self-advocated and what I did to achieve that goal. I'm telling my story to help those who are in a similar position to what I was in and to inspire those to self-advocate.
To recap from my earlier posts. I have ADHD and fell under the "multiple disabilities" characterization. My high school teacher claimed that I have autism (Not diagnosed). I personally don't believe I have autism or at the very least I have a high functioning autism. Throughout most of my school career, I was in a self-contained classroom with kids with severe disabilities. Even if I was in the general population I had a paraprofessional or peer tutor. I never believed that I should have been in that position. As a consequence, I never really learned any social skills, I was segregated, and felt like that people didn't want anything to do with me because I was sped. The reason why I ended up in this position was probably a combination of me having the "multiple disabilities'' characterization and me testing low in three year revaluation tests. If you want more info on this then feel free to search my profile. This is an alt account and is primarily used to ask questions about special ed so It's really easy to find stuff about me.
Before I get into my story I just want to make it clear that I'm not against special ed. There's good and bad people in every profession. I believed I was in danger for myself and for my future. I don't believe that my teacher was evil and had the best of intentions but he was putting me in a position that was hurting me and I had to act. If you have any questions or feedback feel free to let me know in the comments. Another thing is that this post has been really hard to make. It opened up some old wounds and as a result took several days to write.
Here's my story: So in late middle school I was tired of the placement that I was in. I was tired of not having friends, Not being able to socialize with my peers, not being able to date. I also was thinking about what my life will look like after high school, I was concerned that I was going to never have friends, Never be in a relationship, and not have the social skills to make those friends. I was generally very concerned for my future. So I decided that for my 8th grade year (2017-2018) I would do my absolute best for both my behavior and academics. Throughout the year nothing changed. I was hoping that me doing well would show that I didn't need any support but at the end of the year I still had paraprofessionals in most of my classes and was being pulled out for tests. In the summer between middle school and high school all I can think about is I want high school to be different. I wanted friends, I wanted a relationship, and I had dreams of me in the student council. When I got into high school I had peer tutors along with paraprofessionals (Peer Tutors are general ed students who sign up as an elective to help special needs kids. They basically serve the role as paraprofessionals with less responsibility). I did everything again and had the exact same result. In January of 2019 (freshmen year) I decided that my current strategy wasn't working. They also started making the peer tutors fill out behavioral checklists for their student(s) by grading them on how well they behaved/followed directions and gave them badges that say "peer tutor" which made me feel singled out. Because of that the peer tutors felt more like babysitters then someone that is an equal. So I went to my special ed teacher and asked him to remove the paraprofessional and the peer tutors. He told me no and said that I needed them. I changed my strategy again and I was going to ask for the Peer Tutors to be gone first, then focus on removing the paraprofessionals. I was more concerned about the peer tutors over the paraprofessionals because I was concerned that since they were part of the student body that this was going to affect me when I was running for the student council. I was worried that they'd tell others I was special needs then people would think I was incompetent. So every 2 weeks I would ask him again to remove them and each time he would give me a different excuse on why I couldn't be alone. Here's some of the excuses he gave me: "The peer tutors need to be there to collect data", "You need to prove that you can do the work yourself", "It's not up to me. It's the general education teacher that decides if you need a peer tutor or an aide", "Peer Tutors are supposed to represent a trainer for a job. If you refuse training then you're going to get fired". I brought it up again during my yearly IEP which took place in March. Once again my teacher said no, bringing up another excuse. As far as I can remember, my parents were neutral about the aide situation. Later one peer tutor was removed, what happened is that the peer tutor moved to a different town and they didn't bother on sending a substitute. A win is a win so I celebrated it. At the end of my freshman year I was pretty much defeated and didn't achieve the goal of being 100% independent. Over the summer I took a look at my situation and decided that my current plan is not working. I knew that when my sophomore year of high school starts I will have aides and peer tutors in classes. I knew that if I wanted to get what I wanted I would have to do something big. I knew that I would have to put up a fight, and put in a lot more effort. Over the summer I developed a war mindset inspired by two quotes from Sun Tzu:
"Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win”
“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”
I knew that I can't be going into sophomore year blind, so I started drafting a plan. I created a Google doc outlining my goals and what I wanted to accomplish. I knew that I won't be able to win every battle and that I need to choose which fight is worth fighting for. I thought to myself, “Well the peer tutors we're given training on the first day of school and probably have strategies to deal with poor behavior but what about planned well organized protests?” So I began researching strategies on how paraprofessionals/peer tutors dealt with negative behavior and reverse engineered those tactics. I read forms, I Watched YouTube videos and found as much information that I could find. For the peer tutors I didn't know too much about them. I didn't know if it was something that only my school did or if other schools did it. I did some research and found out that other schools had a peer tutor program and some have uploaded training videos on YouTube. Some peer tutors told me that they did babysitting and did nanny work so I looked up babysitting tips. I reverse engineered all of those tactics and came up with strategies to counter those techniques and put all that information that I learned into a google doc that I can use for future reference. During this time I also researched how to become a better negotiator and started learning a little bit of psychology. The plan was to first negotiate and if that doesn't work I will protest and make demands and negotiate. Over the summer I got really good at negotiating and practiced a lot on my father and my sister (they were totally oblivious). To this day I use those negotiating tactics. After I created my document and was satisfied with all the information, I went to bed that night and knew that I have already won and that my sophomore year will be my last year that I 1-1 peer tutor or aide.
Fast forward to the first day of school, as expected I had peer tutors and aides assigned to me in classes. My sped teacher had a chalkboard On the back wall full of sticky notes that had everyone's schedules and a name of someone was assigned to that student for each class. This time around I only had one peer tutor outside of the special ed classes. This is a big improvement over the three I had before but I still have my original goal of having none. For the paraprofessionals I had 2 in Gen classes.The goal was to first remove the peer tutors then the paraprofessionals. Even though this seems to be an improvement I continued with the plan. Since this was the first day, the peer tutors were in another classroom learning policies and other stuff they needed to know so I was alone for the day. I walked over to my special ed teacher and ask him one final time to remove the peer tutor he says no and then I asked him to let me be alone for 2 weeks so I can prove I don't need help and he still denies me. I then tell him that I will allow the peer tutor for 2 weeks and after that she needs to go. My teacher doesn't respond. (To add context the peer tutor that I had, she was a peer tutor in my math class in the prior semester so I already know who she was. We used to talk a lot and was surprised when I saw that she was assigned to me.)
For 2 weeks she mostly left me alone with her occasionally checking up on me. For those 2 weeks I purposely close my self off and adopted a body language that would subconsciously discourage her from approaching me. I did this by keeping my head low and staying as focused as possible. The only thing she did was confront me when I start packing up 2 minutes before the bell rings. She tells me that I shouldn't be packing up and to pull my stuff out again. I tell her no and hold my ground. She writes in my planner that I packed my stuff up early and refuse to pull it out. That happened like 2 or 3 times. On Thursday on the second week my class was tasked to create a PowerPoint. FYI this was a mythology class, while I was doing this PowerPoint I decided instead of manually trying to type in the locations and people from this mythology which the names were very long and complicated. I decided would be easier just to copy and paste them in. My peer tutor sees me doing this and doesn't say anything. At the end of class she writes that I plagiarized in my planner and tells my special ed teacher in person what happened. My sped teacher pulls me out of class (I had his math class right after mythology) and starts telling me that my peer tutor has seen me copy and pasting paragraphs and goes on this lecturing on why plagiarizing is bad. I explained to him that I wasn't copying paragraphs It was only copying names and locations and explain my reason for it. He didn't believe me but he didn't make me retake the assignment. After that I was pissed off and the next day I confronted her about it. I forgot what her reasoning for not telling me was but I told her that she needs to look into things before she makes false reports. After that incident, I decided to wait a week before I ask my teacher to remove her. Also during those first 3 weeks I turned down help from peer tutors and paras if possible In the special ed classroom. I did this to prevent sending any mix signals. I personally didn't mind if I had to work with a peer tutopara or not In the actual sped classroom. I only cared if it was in any of the general education classes. I just thought it would look contradictory if I was accepting help in the sped class and then requesting peer tutors to be removed from my gen classes.
At the beginning of the fourth week I went to school early and went to my sped teacher's class before first hour starts and then I again asked him to remove the peer tutor and the paraprofessionals. He says no again and brings up that I was being academically dishonest by plagiarizing. I tell my side of the story once again on what happened and he still doesn't believe me. At this point I leave and more pissed off. At this point negotiations didn't work so I started small protests by preventing the peer tutors from filling out my planer and the behavioral checklist. Most of them didn't care since there was other students they can fill out and they only need to fill out one to be graded for the day. One peer tutor gave me the puppy dog eye treatment and I eventually cave and let her fill it out. I still let the one peer tutor that was assigned to me in the gen class due to me being the only student and my intention wasn't to ruin, her grade. During the fourth week I began brainstorming ideas on how I can do a massive protest.
On Thursday of the fourth week of school, a walk into the mythology class and it started out like any other day. Class started and my teacher starts talking. I pull up my phone to respond to some messages and my peer tutor sees me. She asks me to hand my phone over to her and I tell her no. She tells me that I can't be on my phone and I tell her okay but I'm still not giving it to you. She then pulls out her phone and puts it on the table. She then tells me to put my phone on the table. I tell her no again. A few minutes past and the teacher finishes up talking. She passes the assignment and immediately my peer tutor begins to try and help by reading the questions. I slide the packet over closer to me and start ignoring her. I was hoping that she will get the hint and leave me alone. She doesn't so put on my hoodie and tried to mentally block her out. I don't remember what she said during all this since I was blocking it out but I do remember her touching me and the general ed teacher coming over and start assisting the peer tutor. It was a lot of pressure and I was actually about to give up because it was too much. But they both gaved up before I did and I was very relieved. After that, the class was pretty much quiet. The peer tutor wrote an entire paragraph on what happened. I walked to my math class and sat down. I then see my peer tutor walking into class and ask for my sped teacher. I already knew it was about me. I see them talk for 2 minutes and sure enough I see my teacher calling me over. I walked outside the classroom and me and the teacher begin to go at it. We end up saying the same things we have said before. However, my teacher this time mentioned that if I keep up my behavior that he's going to call in a meeting with my parents. The rest of math class was pretty much the same. However, my English class with the same teacher he went on a rant about using accommodations seeing that he had a disability growing up which was tourette's and he were love to have a peer tutor. I was quiet for the whole class since I was already exhausted because of everything else that had already happened. For the rest of the weekend, I've been coming up with plans on how I would be able to pull off a massive protest.
Now for the good news. On the fifth week of school, I noticed that my peer tutor was missing. My teacher pulled me aside again and told me that he decided that he was going to pull her for 2 weeks to see how well I would do without her. I told him thank you, that's what I wanted since the beginning of the school year. After those 2 weeks he didn't reinstate her and I didn't have a peer tutor or paraprofessionals in gen classes since. The deal moving forward was as long as I had a D or better he wasn't going to send any support unless I asked for it. My relationship with that sped teacher also had improved significantly. Later in my Junior year of high school I ran in my school's election and won. I was given the social media position.
In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't have to pull off a big protest. But the same time I wish that this situation could have ended in a different way.
Everything that I just told you is only the tip of the iceberg. There's so much detail that I had to leave out just to make this story shorter. Lot of it I'm still processing even though I found great strength in myself fighting back against a system that I believe was ruining my life. That war mindset hasn't left my mentality yet. I'm still dealing with the consequences of me being in special ed. Everything I told you happened 5 years ago and I'm still living through it like it just happened. I'm mentally recovering and eventually I will recover. Right now I'm in therapy and I'm writing down everything I can in a Google doc to process everything emotionally. Maybe one day I'll give that story to a writer and make a book out of it.
If you have any questions feel free ask them, I would love to answer them.

Today I want to tell my story of how I self-advocated and what I did to achieve that goal. I'm telling my story to help those who are in a similar position to what I was in and to inspire those to self-advocate.
To recap from my earlier posts. I have ADHD and fell under the "multiple disabilities" characterization. My high school teacher claimed that I have autism (Not diagnosed). I personally don't believe I have autism or at the very least I have a high functioning autism. Throughout most of my school career, I was in a self-contained classroom with kids with severe disabilities. Even if I was in the general population I had a paraprofessional or peer tutor. I never believed that I should have been in that position. As a consequence, I never really learned any social skills, I was segregated, and felt like that people didn't want anything to do with me because I was sped. The reason why I ended up in this position was probably a combination of me having the "multiple disabilities'' characterization and me testing low in three year revaluation tests. If you want more info on this then feel free to search my profile. This is an alt account and is primarily used to ask questions about special ed so It's really easy to find stuff about me.
Before I get into my story I just want to make it clear that I'm not against special ed. There's good and bad people in every profession. I believed I was in danger for myself and for my future. I don't believe that my teacher was evil and had the best of intentions but he was putting me in a position that was hurting me and I had to act. If you have any questions or feedback feel free to let me know in the comments. Another thing is that this post has been really hard to make. It opened up some old wounds and as a result took several days to write.
Here's my story: So in late middle school I was tired of the placement that I was in. I was tired of not having friends, Not being able to socialize with my peers, not being able to date. I also was thinking about what my life will look like after high school, I was concerned that I was going to never have friends, Never be in a relationship, and not have the social skills to make those friends. I was generally very concerned for my future. So I decided that for my 8th grade year (2017-2018) I would do my absolute best for both my behavior and academics. Throughout the year nothing changed. I was hoping that me doing well would show that I didn't need any support but at the end of the year I still had paraprofessionals in most of my classes and was being pulled out for tests. In the summer between middle school and high school all I can think about is I want high school to be different. I wanted friends, I wanted a relationship, and I had dreams of me in the student council. When I got into high school I had peer tutors along with paraprofessionals (Peer Tutors are general ed students who sign up as an elective to help special needs kids. They basically serve the role as paraprofessionals with less responsibility). I did everything again and had the exact same result. In January of 2019 (freshmen year) I decided that my current strategy wasn't working. They also started making the peer tutors fill out behavioral checklists for their student(s) by grading them on how well they behaved/followed directions and gave them badges that say "peer tutor" which made me feel singled out. Because of that the peer tutors felt more like babysitters then someone that is an equal. So I went to my special ed teacher and asked him to remove the paraprofessional and the peer tutors. He told me no and said that I needed them. I changed my strategy again and I was going to ask for the Peer Tutors to be gone first, then focus on removing the paraprofessionals. I was more concerned about the peer tutors over the paraprofessionals because I was concerned that since they were part of the student body that this was going to affect me when I was running for the student council. I was worried that they'd tell others I was special needs then people would think I was incompetent. So every 2 weeks I would ask him again to remove them and each time he would give me a different excuse on why I couldn't be alone. Here's some of the excuses he gave me: "The peer tutors need to be there to collect data", "You need to prove that you can do the work yourself", "It's not up to me. It's the general education teacher that decides if you need a peer tutor or an aide", "Peer Tutors are supposed to represent a trainer for a job. If you refuse training then you're going to get fired". I brought it up again during my yearly IEP which took place in March. Once again my teacher said no, bringing up another excuse. As far as I can remember, my parents were neutral about the aide situation. Later one peer tutor was removed, what happened is that the peer tutor moved to a different town and they didn't bother on sending a substitute. A win is a win so I celebrated it. At the end of my freshman year I was pretty much defeated and didn't achieve the goal of being 100% independent. Over the summer I took a look at my situation and decided that my current plan is not working. I knew that when my sophomore year of high school starts I will have aides and peer tutors in classes. I knew that if I wanted to get what I wanted I would have to do something big. I knew that I would have to put up a fight, and put in a lot more effort. Over the summer I developed a war mindset inspired by two quotes from Sun Tzu:
"Victorious warriors win first and then go to war, while defeated warriors go to war first and then seek to win”
“If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.”
I knew that I can't be going into sophomore year blind, so I started drafting a plan. I created a Google doc outlining my goals and what I wanted to accomplish. I knew that I won't be able to win every battle and that I need to choose which fight is worth fighting for. I thought to myself, “Well the peer tutors we're given training on the first day of school and probably have strategies to deal with poor behavior but what about planned well organized protests?” So I began researching strategies on how paraprofessionals/peer tutors dealt with negative behavior and reverse engineered those tactics. I read forms, I Watched YouTube videos and found as much information that I could find. For the peer tutors I didn't know too much about them. I didn't know if it was something that only my school did or if other schools did it. I did some research and found out that other schools had a peer tutor program and some have uploaded training videos on YouTube. Some peer tutors told me that they did babysitting and did nanny work so I looked up babysitting tips. I reverse engineered all of those tactics and came up with strategies to counter those techniques and put all that information that I learned into a google doc that I can use for future reference. During this time I also researched how to become a better negotiator and started learning a little bit of psychology. The plan was to first negotiate and if that doesn't work I will protest and make demands and negotiate. Over the summer I got really good at negotiating and practiced a lot on my father and my sister (they were totally oblivious). To this day I use those negotiating tactics. After I created my document and was satisfied with all the information, I went to bed that night and knew that I have already won and that my sophomore year will be my last year that I 1-1 peer tutor or aide.
Fast forward to the first day of school, as expected I had peer tutors and aides assigned to me in classes. My sped teacher had a chalkboard On the back wall full of sticky notes that had everyone's schedules and a name of someone was assigned to that student for each class. This time around I only had one peer tutor outside of the special ed classes. This is a big improvement over the three I had before but I still have my original goal of having none. For the paraprofessionals I had 2 in Gen classes.The goal was to first remove the peer tutors then the paraprofessionals. Even though this seems to be an improvement I continued with the plan. Since this was the first day, the peer tutors were in another classroom learning policies and other stuff they needed to know so I was alone for the day. I walked over to my special ed teacher and ask him one final time to remove the peer tutor he says no and then I asked him to let me be alone for 2 weeks so I can prove I don't need help and he still denies me. I then tell him that I will allow the peer tutor for 2 weeks and after that she needs to go. My teacher doesn't respond. (To add context the peer tutor that I had, she was a peer tutor in my math class in the prior semester so I already know who she was. We used to talk a lot and was surprised when I saw that she was assigned to me.)
For 2 weeks she mostly left me alone with her occasionally checking up on me. For those 2 weeks I purposely close my self off and adopted a body language that would subconsciously discourage her from approaching me. I did this by keeping my head low and staying as focused as possible. The only thing she did was confront me when I start packing up 2 minutes before the bell rings. She tells me that I shouldn't be packing up and to pull my stuff out again. I tell her no and hold my ground. She writes in my planner that I packed my stuff up early and refuse to pull it out. That happened like 2 or 3 times. On Thursday on the second week my class was tasked to create a PowerPoint. FYI this was a mythology class, while I was doing this PowerPoint I decided instead of manually trying to type in the locations and people from this mythology which the names were very long and complicated. I decided would be easier just to copy and paste them in. My peer tutor sees me doing this and doesn't say anything. At the end of class she writes that I plagiarized in my planner and tells my special ed teacher in person what happened. My sped teacher pulls me out of class (I had his math class right after mythology) and starts telling me that my peer tutor has seen me copy and pasting paragraphs and goes on this lecturing on why plagiarizing is bad. I explained to him that I wasn't copying paragraphs It was only copying names and locations and explain my reason for it. He didn't believe me but he didn't make me retake the assignment. After that I was pissed off and the next day I confronted her about it. I forgot what her reasoning for not telling me was but I told her that she needs to look into things before she makes false reports. After that incident, I decided to wait a week before I ask my teacher to remove her. Also during those first 3 weeks I turned down help from peer tutors and paras if possible In the special ed classroom. I did this to prevent sending any mix signals. I personally didn't mind if I had to work with a peer tutopara or not In the actual sped classroom. I only cared if it was in any of the general education classes. I just thought it would look contradictory if I was accepting help in the sped class and then requesting peer tutors to be removed from my gen classes.
At the beginning of the fourth week I went to school early and went to my sped teacher's class before first hour starts and then I again asked him to remove the peer tutor and the paraprofessionals. He says no again and brings up that I was being academically dishonest by plagiarizing. I tell my side of the story once again on what happened and he still doesn't believe me. At this point I leave and more pissed off. At this point negotiations didn't work so I started small protests by preventing the peer tutors from filling out my planer and the behavioral checklist. Most of them didn't care since there was other students they can fill out and they only need to fill out one to be graded for the day. One peer tutor gave me the puppy dog eye treatment and I eventually cave and let her fill it out. I still let the one peer tutor that was assigned to me in the gen class due to me being the only student and my intention wasn't to ruin, her grade. During the fourth week I began brainstorming ideas on how I can do a massive protest.
On Thursday of the fourth week of school, a walk into the mythology class and it started out like any other day. Class started and my teacher starts talking. I pull up my phone to respond to some messages and my peer tutor sees me. She asks me to hand my phone over to her and I tell her no. She tells me that I can't be on my phone and I tell her okay but I'm still not giving it to you. She then pulls out her phone and puts it on the table. She then tells me to put my phone on the table. I tell her no again. A few minutes past and the teacher finishes up talking. She passes the assignment and immediately my peer tutor begins to try and help by reading the questions. I slide the packet over closer to me and start ignoring her. I was hoping that she will get the hint and leave me alone. She doesn't so put on my hoodie and tried to mentally block her out. I don't remember what she said during all this since I was blocking it out but I do remember her touching me and the general ed teacher coming over and start assisting the peer tutor. It was a lot of pressure and I was actually about to give up because it was too much. But they both gaved up before I did and I was very relieved. After that, the class was pretty much quiet. The peer tutor wrote an entire paragraph on what happened. I walked to my math class and sat down. I then see my peer tutor walking into class and ask for my sped teacher. I already knew it was about me. I see them talk for 2 minutes and sure enough I see my teacher calling me over. I walked outside the classroom and me and the teacher begin to go at it. We end up saying the same things we have said before. However, my teacher this time mentioned that if I keep up my behavior that he's going to call in a meeting with my parents. The rest of math class was pretty much the same. However, my English class with the same teacher he went on a rant about using accommodations seeing that he had a disability growing up which was tourette's and he were love to have a peer tutor. I was quiet for the whole class since I was already exhausted because of everything else that had already happened. For the rest of the weekend, I've been coming up with plans on how I would be able to pull off a massive protest.
Now for the good news. On the fifth week of school, I noticed that my peer tutor was missing. My teacher pulled me aside again and told me that he decided that he was going to pull her for 2 weeks to see how well I would do without her. I told him thank you, that's what I wanted since the beginning of the school year. After those 2 weeks he didn't reinstate her and I didn't have a peer tutor or paraprofessionals in gen classes since. The deal moving forward was as long as I had a D or better he wasn't going to send any support unless I asked for it. My relationship with that sped teacher also had improved significantly. Later in my Junior year of high school I ran in my school's election and won. I was given the social media position.
In hindsight, I'm glad I didn't have to pull off a big protest. But the same time I wish that this situation could have ended in a different way.
Everything that I just told you is only the tip of the iceberg. There's so much detail that I had to leave out just to make this story shorter. Lot of it I'm still processing even though I found great strength in myself fighting back against a system that I believe was ruining my life. That war mindset hasn't left my mentality yet. I'm still dealing with the consequences of me being in special ed. Everything I told you happened 5 years ago and I'm still living through it like it just happened. I'm mentally recovering and eventually I will recover. Right now I'm in therapy and I'm writing down everything I can in a Google doc to process everything emotionally. Maybe one day I'll give that story to a writer and make a book out of it.
If you have any questions feel free ask them, I would love to answer them.

Hey guys, I know this is a long shot but I saw an Instagram reel today with a woman with an English accent reciting a poem about motherhood. The theme was "I carry your weight."
At first inside her belly,
Then rocking in her arms,
Then cuddling beside her,
Then carrying the weight by throwing in the air,
Then when she could no longer carry the weight of her child, she said she holds the weight in her heart.
Obviously she did a much better job than me but you get the gist. I can't find it anywhere and I would really like to know who wrote it and the name. It was so beautiful that it made me cry.
Thank you for any help!

Demographics

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

Academics

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

Standardized Testing

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

Awards/Honors

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

Extracurriculars/Activities

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

Letters of Recommendation

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

Essay Summaries

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

Interviews

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

College Results
Accepted

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

Waitlisted

• UMich (Early Action)
• Vanderbilt

Rejected

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

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

Only in this profession can you have this happen all in the same day:

• 10th grade class is talking about how wild it is that a tik tok professor allowed a girl to ace her college final if she did a 15 second walk out to her favorite "sad song." (who believes this stuff, fr?)
• The same class on the same day told me that the selfie I took with Zendaya's mom at the U.S. open in 2017 was photoshopped and fake because "teachers could never afford that." (I used Emirates miles to get access to the suite at the Open that year and we got to talking since we were both teachers. No, I did not meet Zendaya, lol.)

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

[First] [Previous] [Next]
Edited by WaveOfWire
- - - - -
Two days… It had been two days that Tracy had gone to sleep while Harrison was working, only to come back in the morning to see him still in the workshop. She knew he was damn productive, sure, but that really couldn’t be healthy. Apparently, it had something to do with the weird bowl of orange… soup… that Cera gave him. No way was it just caffeine; any amount of the stuff would have been filtered out of his system by now. He mentioned a tingling feeling too…
Damn, she did not know enough about drugs to even start assuming what that massive alien had Harrison fucked up on. At least the scanner said he was ‘fine’—if you ignore the other glaring issues the machine brought up. Plus, he said he didn’t mind it. Either way, he managed to complete the weaving component and a few other electrical backbones of the fabricator last night, so the project was practically done, and after seeing the engineer work himself half to death, she was dead-set on finishing it.
She was currently tits-deep into the upper manufacturing portion of the towering machine. It took a tall step-stool—on top of the nearby desk—for her to push her small shoulders through the even smaller access panels high on the everything-printer. It was difficult to fit her torso in, but she managed, holding a flashlight between her teeth as she fiddled with a stubborn series of mechanical ‘hands.’ Nothing new. The situation reminded her of the ‘shop back on Mars; it had the same ever-present scent of copper and industrial sealant. All that was missing was her dad’s ancient tunes blasting through some shitty speakers… Hold on…
The modular component in her grip was successfully attached with a resonating thock. Tracy squirmed out of the dim wire-filled crevice, trying her best to not rip her only tank-top on any bolts or corners, and getting a face-full of the bright flood-lights illuminating the workshop. She scowled and blocked out the searing light with a hand, but she was a bit too late to avoid going half-blind.
“Are the mechanical manipulators in?” Harrison grunted, poking his head out underneath the printer’s floor-adjacent maintenance hatch. She looked down at him as she tried to blink off the spots in her vision. His hair was messy, barely kept in line by his habit of combing through it with his fingers. The areas around his eyes were dark and sunken… Guess that’s what two all-nighters did to a man. He’d be seeing the hat man or start hallucinating if he didn’t get any sleep soon… but then again, the two of them were so close to finishing the fabricator…
“You bet.” She gave him a thumbs up, slamming the panel cover closed. “Feel free to test it.”
He nodded and slid back underneath the machine. “Gotcha”
She gently stepped off the stool and slid off the side of the desk, stretching herself out. If her piss-poor sitting posture or her tank-top puppies hadn’t already fucked her spine up, bending over backward to build this fabricator sure as hell would. She sat down next to the panel where Harrison resided, resting her back against the fabrication tower. Her excited voice broke the muffled noises of the engineer’s work. “So… Harrison?”
“Hmm—”
“—Mind if I play some music?”
The sounds from the hatch stopped, followed by his muffled, shocked tone echoing from beneath the fabricator. “You have music!?”
She smirked at seeing the expression on his face when his head popped out again. “I sure do… Did you seriously not download any to your data pad?”
He slipped out from beneath the fabricator fully, huffing as he took a knee beside her. The scent of melded rubber, wire, and his liquid labor reached her nose not-so-unpleasantly. “You would not believe how much of a pain it is to repair an entire barracks without it… So, yeah, I didn’t.”
“Sooooooooo, whatcha wanna listen to? I’ve got almost everything on here—besides the super niche, of course.” She pulled her data pad out, swiping to the massive music folder
“You wouldn’t like the kinda music I listen to; It’s ancient.”
She gave him a lighthearted, annoyed glare. “Welcome to the club… Now what’ll it be?”
“It’s Old Earth kind of ancient… but alright” He looked up at the ceiling in thought, lips pursed. “Do you have anything from Styx or Sweet?”
She stared at him incredulously, her smirk turning into a fully-fledged smile. “Oh my God. You are an absolute dork! You actually listen to Golden Age music?”
His brows raised, accusatory. “And you somehow know exactly who those bands were and what age of Old Earth music they came from?”
She smugly leaned in closer. “That’s because I’m just as much of a nerd with that kinda music as you apparently are.” She quickly looked upward, addressing the workshop AI. “Sebas, connect nearby speakers to my data pad’s audio.” Tracy elbowed the engineer lightly as the PA system chirped its affirmation. “Now, Mr. Golden Age music, which albums do ya want me to queue up?”
- - - - -
The two of them listened to music for hours, tossing on songs they liked as they came to mind while they worked. Harrison had a ton of recommendations that spanned all over the Golden Ages and some twenty-first century classics. She didn’t even know half of them, but she was vibing either way, adding on her own taste by intermingling some older rock tracks and newer electronic beats. The playlist was steadily built up as the day went on. Thank God her dad showed her a vast array of tunes; she might not have been able to keep up with the engineer if her old man hadn't.
It made the work go by so fast, their conversations blurring as they jumped from topic to topic. They discussed whatever came to mind—old hobbies, old jobs, and old interests. A lot was left behind in Sol… At least she knew that the only other human on the planet was more interesting than a soulless workaholic. It turned out that he was a pretty big history buff, and he apparently read a lot about the colonization of the Sol system and the various wars of independence thereafter. Curious, she asked where the interest stemmed from, and he explained that his grandfather was an admiral in the Slavic-Europan deep-ice submarine fleet, which explained how Harrison’s mother was able to afford to immigrate to Mars from Europa.
He could also play an acoustic guitar, and, unfortunately for Tracy, he wasn’t even the slightest bit interested in printing one out, citing that it was a waste of time and material that would be better used elsewhere. That didn’t stop her from writing a note on her data pad to do so later, though. She hadn’t seen someone play one of those in years—the last time was probably in some old music video from the early twenty-second century. What a shame. She would have liked to hear some of the Europan songs his grandmother taught him.
On the bright side, the man seemed to take an interest in her odd hobbies. He brought up the folder of 3D models that she accidentally uploaded to the inter-module system and asked where she got the inspiration for what was in it. Boy, was he not ready for her ‘WarHalberd40k’ lore dump. Props to the guy for not standing up and leaving the workshop throughout her rambling. He even asked questions about the different factions and their weapons, which she was more than happy to talk about.
She also ended up going over the other franchises and hobbies she was interested in, such as robotics and the like. The only interruptions to their chat were the occasional Akula or Craftsman asking for insight regarding the various tasks he had allotted to them, or Shar coming in to check up on Harrison between guard shifts.
The new dynamic of the group was pretty interesting, to say the least. Tracy hadn’t been out to interact with the whole lot of Malkrin, but she definitely noticed how they treated the engineer. They’d started to look up to him in a way ever since he started showing off technology. In a little over two days, the man had shown them that he could provide the materials for a brick house, fine clothing—especially by the alien’s standards—armor, and delicious food. That wasn’t even mentioning the other benefits the technician heard a few of the ‘banished’ talking about over their meals: heating, electric lights, and other assorted machines.
She’d be feeling pretty happy about herself if she was in his position, having so many look up to him and be grateful at the same time. He seemed to view it a lot more robotically, however, only striving to get the basics done. Luckily for him, his basics were their luxury.
That wasn’t all there was to the topic; the engineer lamented about how the colony was going through food just as quickly as materials. The meals weren’t the direct issue he had, more that he had to start focusing on long-term resource harvesting rather than directly preparing for a literal horde of monsters—which wasn’t exactly ideal. It was a good thing that they just so happened to take on an influx of Malkrin then…
Either way, they finally finished the ‘totally legal modification’ for the fabricator, meaning they could at least partially address the latter half of his worries. The whole process of ripping out an old printer and replacing the parts for a new one felt a lot easier than she imagined… even if it took her at least forty-eight hours to complete it… with help from Harrison. Maybe that was why it felt so easy… She supposed the colony overseers didn’t choose the man for no reason, so his skills made sense.
“So… what do we want to print out first?” Tracy questioned, having finished testing the last major component.
The engineer stretched his arms up into the air and rotated his shoulders, then pulled back the desk’s chair and took a seat. “I’ve had just one thing in mind since the start of this whole project.”
Her brows raised in a mix of excitement and curiosity. She leaned forward, looking at the computer monitor from over his shoulder. “Oh? What’s that, then?”
A smirk formed along his cheek, the computer mouse rapidly clicking through the blueprint folder. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what kind of firearm we need since I started dabbling in belt-fed weapon systems.” He opened one final file, a short loading bar preceding the exploded assembly view of… “An M2 Browning machine gun. It’s more than powerful enough to kill in one shot, while also being capable of fully-automatic fire, with a capacity of however many rounds we want in a belt-box.”
“Uh…huh…” She gave a skeptical nod and took a step back, not exactly sold on the idea. “It looks ancient. It’s kinetic, right? Why aren’t we using energy-based weapons? Don’t we have a gunpowder shortage coming up?”
He moved his chair off to the side to look back at her. “We just can’t; Simple as. We’ll need who knows how many more AI cores before we can get started on that level of equipment, Trace,” he huffed, returning his gaze to the specifications of the firearm. “This isn’t the most ‘modern’ weapon we can make, but its twenty-first century counterpart helps with an improved design… somewhat. And, as I said before, it should be more than capable of killing a bug in one shot, so Shar can just tap-fire it to save ammunition.”
Her head tilted quizzically. “Shar?”
“Yup,” he returned confidently. “It’s the perfect weapon for her.”
She raised a brow. “How so?”
He held his hand up, counting his reasons on his fingers. “She’s always on the front line with a shield, she can absolutely handle the weight and recoil, her four arms make reloading it simple, plus she’ll need something with range and power that isn’t a spear. So, why not? And, if for some reason, she doesn’t want to use it, we can just convert it into a turret—which is something I was planning on doing anyways with however more M2s we print out later.”
“I doubt she’ll say no to any gun you give her,” Tracy chuckled while shaking her head, inadvertently causing her bangs to cover her eyes.
“Fair enough,” he conceded with a bob of his head. “What do you think, then? What kinda weapons do you have in mind?”
She reapplied her goggles into an impromptu hairband, feeling a smirk cross her face. “Thought you’d never ask. What purpose do we need these guns to fulfill? Hordes I’m guessing?”
“That’s the idea, yeah. That doesn’t mean they all need to be machine guns, though.” He tapped the belt-fed shotgun beside him.
“Well, lemme see what we’re working with first.” She suddenly stepped forward, leaning over Harrison’s seat to access the keyboard and mouse. Her arms briefly rubbed against him, forcing him to roll his chair backward. She suppressed a giggle at seeing his incredulous frown.
Her eyes quickly traced the hundreds of individual files, clicking through all sorts of folders, each arranged from pre-twenty-first century ‘antiques,’ to more modern iterations of kinetics and particle weaponry. There was… a lot on there—almost too much to reasonably comb through. Why? Did the colony overseers just say ‘fuck it’ and put whatever they could find on here? Were they expecting the pioneers to make a museum of everything?
She sighed, standing up straight and facing Harrison. “Y’know, I’m actually impressed you managed to find that M2-whatever in there…”
He shifted in his seat, resting an elbow on the desk. “Yup, there’s a lot. I’m almost tempted to just make several of those machine guns and just call it a day, but I feel like that’d be too much of a strain on resources, no?”
“I don’t really know enough about how you fight those spider-crab things, or how to get more gunpowder, so… maybe?” She shrugged, biting her cheek in contemplation. “You might just wanna make a few smaller caliber weapons… like, uh… those old kinetic service rifles. If your pump-action shotgun works fine, I’m sure some normal guns would work just fine for now, right?”
He hardily gripped his firearm, hauling it up to his lap. “Depends on what you mean by ‘smaller caliber.’ The whole reason why the KS-23 here works—” he pulled out a massive shell from the ammo belt, displaying it on his palm. “—is because the twenty-three-millimeter round has enough energy transfer to mess up any bug's shell and insides. I’d say the smallest rounds we could use would be point-two-forty-three caliber to get any similar results.”
Brief flickers of grungy orange shells and gnashing teeth marred Tracy’s sight. She forcibly suppressed them, distracting herself with dry humor and a strained laugh. “Guess those fuckers can really take a punch, huh?”
He shook his head somberly. “I couldn’t imagine going up against them without a gun… Anyway, I like your idea of a standard rifle for now. Then, when we have some product lines up, we can go a little more in depth into personal weapons.”
“So are you gonna take one?” She hopped up on the desk, letting her legs swing off the side.
“Don’t think so, no. I’ll stick with my shotty.” The internals of the heavily modified weapon rattled as he held it up and inspected it. “Doesn’t mean I’ll keep it as is. I’m thinking of printing a laser aiming module so I can point-fire it accurately, and maybe a melee-oriented muzzle brake or a lighter chassis to reduce weight… Not sure though.”
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, her cheeks in her palms. “Melee-oriented? Oooooh, like a chain-sword or something?”
His short chuckle coerced a smirk to her face. “No, not like that. More something to use as a bludgeoning tool. Right before the blood-moon, I ended up getting just as much use out of this shotgun as a hammer than as a… well, a shotgun.”
“That’s pretty fuckin’ metal. So are you just gonna make the barrel into a giant bayonet?”
He nodded. “Not exactly a bayonet, but something more like a door-breaching break.”
A short silence settled on their conversation, the faint sounds of the fabricator’s hum and distant woodwork coming to light. Right, there was an outside world… She’d been too caught up talking to Harrison for however many hours it had been. She wondered how successful the fisherwomen were in collecting, and how things had been for the others working on the wood storage shack. Maybe it was already completed? The sun peered through the cargo bay door, proving that it was only about midday. What else would they work on today?
“Hey,” she ventured.
“Hm?” the engineer hummed, his eyes focused on the monitor beside the technician.
She scooted closer to his keyboard. “What’re we doing after this?”
“What do you mean?”
She leaned backward, propping herself up on two hands. “Project wise; what’s the next big thing?”
“Uhmmm…” he muttered, interacting with the computer for a few more seconds before finally meeting her gaze. “Well, I’ve just allocated the fabricator to print out the M2, three FALs—wood furniture, of course—then there’s the magazines and ammunition, so we’ve got a lot of time to kill. The next big thing is definitely going to be metal procurement, and— Oh, right!” Harrison stopped mid-sentence, reaching into his backpack and pulling out several finger-sized metallic cubes, a sudden fire in his eyes. “Okay, so a while ago, during an encounter with three colossi, Shar and Akula found a cave with some ‘surface’ metal deposits. I took a piece off to analyze, but never got the chance to until last night. Anyway, we don’t have any machines to examine the ore, so I made use of the recycler and broke it down to its baser components.”
She nodded along, seeing where he was going with his explanation. “I’m guessing those shiny cubes are the metals from the ore?”
“Sure is. So, as it turns out, we have a pretty damn close supply of not only iron, but also, zinc, sulfur, and a small amount of cadmium. I talked with Sebas about it and did a little research. We believe it’s something akin to sphalerite, given its composition and looks, which implies it’s a sedimentary exhalative deposit. That means there must have been some volcanic…”
Harrison continued talking about underwater deposits and ancient rock formations, bringing up some theories brought forward by the now 4-AI-core-powered Sebas, delving into the current land mass’ history and possible ore output. A lot of it went over the tradewoman’s head, but she still listened intently… Honestly, she could have listened to the man talk about finding metals for hours. It was sort of like the podcasts she used to listen to while completing colonist training, but even more personal and somehow easier to get lost in…
“…find some other minerals further down like silver, but it also might be an active lava zone. Again, these are all theories and this world could just throw the fundamentals of geology away as it does for physics. Anyway, sorry for going on for so long about that, just thought it’d be important for getting some metals in the future.”
“No, no,” Tracy assured, alleviating him of concern with a wave of her hand. “If there’s anything the colony overseers emphasized, it was farming and mineral acquisition. Don’t worry.” She smiled, pointing a thumb to herself. “I just wanna know how I can help.”
“Actually, I’ve a few things only you can do. I’d like to make use of your impressive drone-making expertise for a few applications, if you don’t mind.”
The task of keeping eye contact slipped into an impossible feat in the span of a singular second, planting a pang of embarrassment on her reddened face, forcing her to inspect her fidgeting hands. “I-I wouldn’t say ‘impressive’… b-but what do you have in mind?”
She could see him raise a brow out of the corner of her vision. “Well, after what you’ve shown me with the reconnaissance flyers, I’d like your help in setting up a more permanent ‘net’ of them to scour the meadow and parts of the nearby forest to look out for any approaching hordes. I don’t want to be snuck up on… again…”
‘Again.’
She noted his small frown and sunken eyes, both a little more exaggerated than they already were. It wasn’t like she’d deny his request, but the pangs of empathy over their shared situation all but solidified her resolve. It was the least she could do. She could help him. She would help him.
The technician exhaled slowly, taking on a more serious and understanding tone than before. “I… can do that. For sure. What else?”
“I appreciate it.” He gave a wane smile. “I’ll help you with whatever you need for the project. For the other drones, I’m thinking about a small exploration vehicle to map out caves around us and mark any minerals, as well as a submersible to look for potassium deposits in the ocean.”
“So… search bots?” She crossed her arms, confidence growing; those were her specialty. “Depending on how long the fabricators take and what kind of base drones are in the blueprint folders, I should be able to get those done in no time. All I need to know are the search cues for potassium and how many drones you want.”
He quickly shuffled a few folders on the computer, turning the monitor for her to see some scientific documents with various images and walls upon walls of text. “There’re plenty of resources for that on here for what to look for, and there’s always Sebas, so feel free to ask him since he can just sort through the data for you anyway. If you can, I’d like it if you could focus on the submersible after the reconnaissance drones.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll be right on it, then.” She gave him a thumbs up, slipping off his desk and toward her own.
“I’ll bring you lunch in a bit. Imma go check on the others,” he called.
Her stomach grumbled at the mention, her head turning to give him an appreciative smile. “Oh! Thanks!”
\= = = = =
Avian creatures chirped from their perches in the trees nearby. The wind softly rustled red leaves as grass gently gave way to calculated footfalls. A warm sun laid its light on Shar’khee’s neck. It was surprisingly pleasant, were one to take the time to notice. The mainland was a confusing place for the paladin, with its disparate representations of nature contrasting so heavily. Some days were filled with blood and ravenous beasts, while others were left within the domain of simplicity and beauty. She was content to have the latter, yet it felt like a facade veiling the former—a soft exterior covering the maliciously spiked interior. Never could she leave herself to carelessness, no matter how welcoming it might be.
Hence why she worked to ensure the safety of the star-sent’s castles and their inhabitants, her days largely spent patrolling for any roaming swarms that may wish to cause them harm. She typically used the routine to think, but today offered little in the way of solitude. This time, she was accompanied by the previously banished guardswoman, and was tasked with instructing the new one, though the specifics of what such lessons should entail were vague. Still, Shar’khee did all that she could so as not to disappoint Harrison, so she could only attempt to meet his expectations of her.
She told the yellow-skinned female of the threats that the settlement faced, how one was to defeat them, and what to expect from the beasts. The guardswoman was directed to practice her form with the spear in both thrusts and throwing for some time afterward, proving herself to be well-built. Such was expected of her profession after all.
It was pleasing to have another capable of patrolling the settlement’s outskirts for swarms, as it would greatly impact how effectively the colony could react to such a threat. If her routine was to suffer for the colony’s well-being, she was happy to show the new one her patrol route and note what to look out for.
The guardswoman was not a perfect student, however. Shar’khee never addressed it directly, but the yellow-skinned female obviously discredited the danger posed by the abhorrent, not-so-subtly shrugging off any warnings.
…That was until they stumbled upon the ‘hyena-boars,’ as Harrison called them.
The beasts resided in a clearing not too far from the castles, carelessly meandering across the sea of tall grass. Shar’khee quickly crouched, dragging the guardswoman down with her. Once she assessed that the creatures were not an imminent danger, she decided it would be an excellent opportunity to show the new one how to properly engage a threat. She was about to propose the idea, yet her speech was silenced just as swiftly.
Orange flashes darted through the trees around the glade. Taloned feet and gnashing teeth tore across the ground toward the unsuspecting beasts at the center. It was much too late for them. They were slow. Surrounded. Unaware. It was as quick as it was vicious, the forest’s reds turning a deeper crimson hue in a moment's notice underneath the abhorrent’s brutality.
Gangly monstrosities gnawed and ripped at the dead creatures, brief glimpses of raw flesh and white bone protruding from the small spaces between the clumped-up beasts. Repulsive wet splatters of blood and gore overlapped the calm noises of the forest, the grisly scene serenaded by the softest of nature’s symphonies. It was a sickening juxtaposition.
Shar’khee bit back the unease and steeled herself. They were within twenty paces—close enough to smell the abhorrent’s vile stench of rot and bile, yet far enough so as not to be noticed. She briefly considered backing away and retreating, her focus bouncing between the different avenues of escape, or how to cover her footst—
Crack.
Several sets of feral, eyeless maws snapped in their direction, the blood dripping off freshly dampened teeth. The guardswoman gasped, Shar’khee’s gaze following to see the mistake: a singular broken branch crinkled as a yellow-colored foot raised off the splintering twig.
The paladin exhaled sharply and smoothly stood up, brandishing two spears and her shield. Her glare settled on the still crouching guardswoman. “You are to stay behind my shield and let them appr—ch. Rem—ber what I have told you. Aim for their maws when you thrust y—r lance.”
The other female nodded, shakily pulling out her own weapons with unsteady placement hampering her grip. There was an obvious nervousness to her gaze. Hesitance. That would not do.
Shar’khee faced the prowling abhorrent her knuckles shifting hue as she prepared for their advance, for there was no chance that they wouldn’t. True to her experience, the stalking turned to a gallop with several clicks of grotesque tongues, the swarm bolting toward her as one. She snarled and slammed her bulwark into the ground, letting the approaching beasts skewer themselves amongst its spikes.
There were only ten—a paltry amount. She had defended against magnitudes more, and yet she still stood. What is more, they were mindless. Uncoordinated. They would be but stains in the cloth she used to clean her armor. Perhaps, if they were fortunate, they might leave a furrow in her shield to remember them by. Her arms tensed as the first leapt.
One by one, the abhorrent fell, their repulsive green blood splattering under her thrusts. Each awaiting corpse tore across the grove’s grass, lunging to their deaths with gaping maws and unfeeling hunger, yet she did not yield. Their shells were crushed by her shield and impaled by her Goddess-blessed spears, becoming but one more smear across their surface. Ten motionless lumps lay before her, seeping their ichor into the soil, none having passed the barrier she became. Dead, just as the Creator intended. She remained vigilant for a few moments longer, watching for any more of the disgusting creatures.
None showed themselves, finally allowing blood to flow to her fingers once again. The shield’s heavy presence weighed down her back, the blood flicked off of her spears before she returned them to their place.
“Are y–u well?” Shar’khee addressed the frozen Malkrin, wiping away the splatter on her bracers. The guardswoman stared at the small pile of deceased creatures, her heavy breaths and widened eyes moving from the spear from her singular kill. The paladin huffed. “We are fort—ate that there were so few.”
“F-Few? God help us…” Her horrified, stunned gaze slowly met the paladin’s. “Y-You said there were hundreds on the crimson nights? H-How do you… They were s-so fast.”*
”As I h–ve warned,” Shar’khee affirmed.
“You are a paladin! You all exaggerate your feats… I thought it was just a facade!”
“I have no r—son to lie,” she returned tersely, shrugging off the insult to her station and shaking her head. “The mainl—d is far more dangerous than ten gnash—g beasts; more so than that of your island hamlet. Pick yourself up. We m—t inform the others of this incursion.”
The yellow-skinned female snarled, furrowing her brows at the ground in frustration. At whom…? Shar’khee? Herself? Regardless, the female promptly gathered her composure, pushing air through clenched jaws. A step forward had her feet splash in the small pool of blood, the Malkrin nodding toward the paladin to continue back to the castles.
“…for the village.”
Shar’khee paused in her stride and faced her, frowning at the determination and anger leaking through the intent. “W—t was that?”
Her question was returned with honesty, a huffed voice marred by vexation. “Paladin, how am I to defend my village-mates as I am now?”
“‘As you are now?’ What do you m—n?”
The guardswoman stared down at her spear, wood creaking under her grip. “I have faltered before what you deem a paltry threat, and the thought of an even greater one sows dread deep within my bones. I wish… I wish to be better prepared to defend those of my village. I cannot help but see their faces on those of the furred creature in the clearing, and yet, even if I am so close, I am just as unable to protect them.”
Shar’khee stared down the yellow female, a long gaze taking in a rare showing of sincerity. “Y—r fears are one we all share, new one. Do not be ashamed of them. All t—t matters is that you do not let them rem—n mere fear, but make them your strength. So tell me, do you wish to impr—e? To ensure they do not fall while you are support—g them?”
The yellow-skinned female released a shuddering breath that bled off the worst of her indecision, a newly invoked flame flaring within her visage. “I do, paladin. I seek to protect and to be of use.”
“Then, if you wish to make y—rself resilient in the face of all that opposes us, it would be my undertak—g to forge you anew. Fortunately, Harrison has ordered such already, and his guidance shall prove ever useful, should you pursue it.”
The guardswoman shuffled in place at the star-sent’s mention, her eyes slipping downwards. “He is of a great many resources, but I would rather receive your teachings than those of a craftsman… or that of a male, deity-sent he might be.”
She placed a palm on the female’s shoulder. “He is far more than you might ever k—w. Regardless of if you ac—pt his guidance, I commend your conviction. However—” Her hand gripped tighter, though not enough to instill hostility. “—understand that you are protecting more than just your vi—age-mates.”
The new one nodded, staring up at the paladin with stallwart resolve. “Of course. I shall be in your tutelage, then.”
Shar’khee smiled. “T—n let us begin.”
\= = = = =
Akula was becoming increasingly certain that she knew how her parents once felt. The green-skinned fisherwoman was currently rotating between the many tasks placed upon her, guiding the newcomers through the minutia of their tasks so they might live up to the potential Harrison saw within them. She was gratified to have her own talents recognized by the Creator, but it also placed a great many responsibilities in her talons. Of course, she handled each new addition with finesse befitting her heritage, never once balking from the increasing demands. If anything, she felt validated; it was required of her as a female anyway, was it not? The more feminine-appropriate labor and management one undertakes, the higher authority they were granted.
It began with a simple assignment to oversee the chef’s introduction to the star-sent’s provided cooking appliances. As fascinating and convenient as utilities were, she held no interest in preparing any more food than she already had, but teaching another to operate the machines would alleviate such requirements of her. She reluctantly accepted the task when it was proposed, especially considering the fact that Harrison was much too busy with his other projects to bother with something as benign as cooking. His work was more valuable elsewhere.
The task itself went well, and the pink-skinned chef was quick to pick up on the use of the various kitchen devices, as well as the smoker. A grin had grown when she considered the possibility of all males understanding such domestic things readily, yet her mirth at removing the masculine job required of her was short-lived. Despite the newly initiated Malkrin’s success, Harrison had Akula frequently return to oversee the numerous cooking operations being conducted. That was in tandem with the back-to-back fishing trips made by both herself and the newly acquired females.
…Which was something else the green-skinned cycle-worshipper was ordered to oversee.
She had left the chef to his devices after producing another batch of partially seasoned meals, returning to the Creator with hopes of a break. He applauded her efforts with a nod and tersely spoken appreciation, then quickly pushed two spearguns into her hand and directed her to the ocean, where the twins were ‘working with jack shit,’ as the busy male said. She was to give the fisherwomen the tools and make sure they were used properly, and offer additional assistance in acquiring ‘enough fish to have us fed for a little bit.’
So, she left to complete the given task, feeling somewhat appreciative that her speargun was of superior quality to those she would be delivering—the newcomers were only afforded the lesser, roped-bolt version. It was only natural that she was in possession of their greatest assets, of course; the star-sent saw her as the only one capable of wielding such fantastic ammunition, showing trust that was rightfully placed in her. That did not mean the gray-skinned females were unsatisfied with their own gifts, however. The twins were swiftly caught up on the ‘manual of arms’ and sent to work, somehow managing to keep up with Akula in spite of their land-based origins. The two were fast enough to outpace the cycle-worshipper in sheer speed, but their lack of numerous winters spent traversing deeper waters meant they required frequent rests, breaking the ocean’s surface after every third captured fish or so.
Still, she had to appreciate their dedication to their task. They never complained about Akula pushing them further to reach the star-sent’s vague objective. Such a task was entrusted to her—and by proxy, the other two—and thus it would be completed, no matter how much her comfortable bed… couch called her tiring muscles.
The group of three hauled net after full net of fresh meat to the chef—and sewist, who later joined him—forcing him to relegate much of the catch to long-term storage as the kitchen simply could not deal with the surplus. At least three-quarters of the fish were put to slow cook in the now Malkrin-sized smoker. The craftsman had upgraded it with a kit provided by Harrison, who had recycled much of the dining room and workshop furniture to accommodate it. The Creator’s showcased urgency to gather materials was clearly not unfounded… It was admirable how he used what little he had left to ensure food would not be scarce. Additionally, the apparatus exuded an excellent scent for all the survivors to enjoy, the earthy aroma drawing in some of the other Malkrin for their breaks or meals.
Those were not the end of the cycle-worshiper’s tasks, however. She was also required to report on Shar’khee’s progress in training the guardswoman—helping to recycle the small swarm of abhorrent they cleared earlier—as well as the wood storage building’s progress. Indeed, she was advising and assisting however and wherever applicable. To say she was seen all around the settlement would be an understatement.
Nevertheless, she was appreciative to see her efforts bearing fruit by sundown. The processing of their meals from sea to plate was quite efficient, and those that Akula taught were now well-practiced in their duties. The twin fisherwomen dove from wave to wave, bringing fish back to the barracks, where the cook and sewist swiftly worked to transfer the meat to pans and smoker hooks alike. Then, the remnants of the Sea Goddess’ aquatic gifts would be subsequently recycled and given purpose anew as biofuel or perhaps future fertilizer.
The endless onslaught of duties and responsibilities had enlightened her, in a way. She could see where Harrison came from now; having a working project go from one point to another without input nor difficulty was a sight to behold, and it made her swell with pride. It was a surmountable feat to teach the barbaric ground-worshippers to do something properly.
…Well, they were not horrible Malkrin, so perhaps simply calling them ‘uninitiated’ was a more apt descriptor…
No matter the tribulations faced, and no matter how draining her new authority might be, her rest at the end of the day would be one that was well-earned, and it would be had with a sense of satisfaction. She deserved it, and perhaps that extended to the rest of the settlement as well.
- - - - -
[First] [Previous] [Next]
Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Mine! Mine! Mine!

Hi all.
I work for a Local Authority in South West of England. It’s a Unitary Local Authority that I’ve worked in for eight years. I work as a Social Worker with vulnerable children in Child Protection.
In August 2022 I came back from Maternity Leave and handed my notice in. Management didn’t want me to leave so offered me a position that hadn’t been created yet. The post was a secondment for a period of 6 months, I did the interview and I’ve been in post now for 18 months or so. In August 2024 it’ll have been two years.
The role wasn’t hard at first but over time I picked up more and more responsibility such as supervising other people, writing policy and quality assurance of documentation being filed through to Court (family Court). These were all outside of the original job description. I was happy to pick up these responsibilities, I thought I was progressing in my career. My manager had informed me for the last six months that it is her intention to present the post to the ‘grading panel’ as the formal post didn’t actually exist yet and I was still seconded. She said it was her intention for the post to be a Team Manager position, so understandably I hung in there because of the promise of more money and progression.
When I picked up the post I was told, no you can’t have anymore money or move along the pay scale. It was something I always raised in supervision, when will my role be graded? To be told it was being worked on etc. It was never graded.
I finally had enough of this and handed my notice in, in February. I’m due to leave on the 28th of May. There have been loads of other issues relating to a hostile work environment contributing to me handing my notice in, which haven’t been resolved.
My manager told me last week that the post had conveniently been graded now and it was now a Team Manager position (an extra £4,000) a year). I’ve spoken with a solicitor but they’re asking £5,000 just for representation.
Do I have a case here? I feel duped and taken the p*ss out of. I’ve submitted a formal complaint with the service director but have had no response.

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

Sanjay stood there in shock. He had been at Hogwarts for more than five years and had never seen a portal that could transport Muggles into the wizarding world.
Sanjay: "This is unheard of! If bad people or any other Muggles find out about this place, it would be a disaster. We need to talk to Professor Dumbledore. He'll know what to do."
He then explained how great Professor Dumbledore was, his wisdom and power unrivaled in the wizarding world.
Sanjay: "Professor Dumbledore is the most powerful and wise wizard. He's the headmaster of Hogwarts and has faced and defeated dark wizards before. We need his guidance."
Sanjay urged them to return to the Muggle world for now and not to speak of this to anyone else.
Sanjay: "Don’t talk about this if there’s anyone else around. Just go back home for now. We’ll figure this out later."
The trio nodded in agreement and returned to the Muggle world. As soon as they were back, Toby pinched Fin to check if he was dreaming.
Toby Fletcher: "Fin, are we dreaming?"
Fin laughed, and Lily joined in, but Sanjay remained serious.
Sanjay: "Remember, not a word to anyone."
That night, none of them could think about anything else. They couldn’t sleep, their minds racing with the day’s revelations. Fin lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the events of the day. Lily, meanwhile, was scribbling notes in her journal, trying to make sense of everything they had seen.
The next morning, Fin called Lily and Toby. They decided to talk about what to wear for their next visit to the magical world.
Fin Sparks: "We need to blend in better this time. Any ideas on what to wear?"
As they were discussing this, Fin's mom, Charlotte Sparks, entered his room.
Charlotte Sparks: "Fin, why are you up so early and getting dressed?"
Fin quickly ended the call and turned to his mom.
Fin Sparks: "I got a part-time job at a café far from here."
Charlotte nodded, but Fin had one more question on his mind.
Fin Sparks: "Mom, do you know anything about Dad? Why didn't he come back when I was five?"
Charlotte’s expression changed, and she looked nervous.
Charlotte Sparks: "Your dad was an amazing person, Fin. But... well, that flying car incident you keep talking about was just your imagination."
Fin could see she was hiding something but chose not to press further. He changed the subject.
Fin Sparks: "My friends are heading the same way, so I'm going with them."
Charlotte smiled.
Charlotte Sparks: "Alright, just be careful."
Fin met up with Lily and Toby outside.
Fin Sparks: "Remember, always say we’re working part-time after school. I told my mom I'm working at a café."
They all agreed and made their way back to the alley, returning to the magical world where Sanjay was waiting for them with four broomsticks.
Sanjay: "Follow me."
They followed Sanjay to a car that soon started to fly. Lily, scared, hugged Fin, causing her to blush. Toby teased them.
Toby Fletcher: "Guys, get a room!"
Lily turned red with embarrassment. They traveled until they reached a random field bathed in sunlight. Sanjay started telling stories about Professor Dumbledore.
Sanjay: "Dumbledore is the greatest wizard alive. He’s the headmaster at Hogwarts and knows everything about magic. You’re going to love him."
Fin's excitement grew. The car, orange in color, landed in a forest.
Sanjay: "Before you meet Dumbledore, you need to learn some basics."
They landed the car roughly in the Dark Forest, home to unicorns. Sanjay laughed at their rough landing.
Sanjay: "Get used to it. It’s not always smooth."
He started teaching them how to use broomsticks.
Sanjay: "Place your broom on the ground and say 'Up'."
Fin tried and succeeded on his first try, impressing Sanjay.
Sanjay: "Wow, you're a natural!"
They moved on to spells. Sanjay taught them:

• Accio: A summoning spell.
• Lumos: Lights up the wand tip.
• Oculus Reparo: Fixes broken objects.
• Muffliato: Fills ears with a buzzing noise to prevent eavesdropping.
• Petrificus Totalus: Full body-bind curse.

Fin accidentally used Petrificus Totalus on Toby, causing everyone to laugh, but Sanjay remained patient.
Sanjay: "Use it carefully, Fin."
He also introduced them to Expecto Patronum and many more spells. Finally, he mentioned the deadly spell, Avada Kedavra.
Sanjay: "Never use this spell. It’s extremely dangerous and only a master can control it."
Toby accidentally used it on a bird, causing a minor scare. Fortunately, the bird was only injured, and Sanjay healed it with a spell.
Sanjay: "Be very careful with that spell. It’s not to be used lightly."
Lily was a quick learner, mastering spells rapidly. Toby, however, was more interested in how the magical car worked and the repair spells. After an intense training session, they were ready to meet Professor Dumbledore.
Fin Sparks: "We’re ready. Let’s meet Professor Dumbledore."
With a mix of excitement and nervousness, the trio prepared to meet the legendary headmaster.
End of Episode 3

My older sister (F32) and her husband need a nanny, and I volunteered.
My sister and her husband have a 18 month old child who has been in three day cares already.
This child has sever allergies. Dairy, peanut, cashews, sesame, and now possibly citrus. The first day care could not accommodate and it was when they were first learning about them so just a scary time in general. The second was a vegan place that worked out great but her husband got a new job and they moved. They recently pulled them from the third place because they kept feeding her allergens after countless talks and check ins about it.
So until she can verbalize what she can and can't have they want a nanny.
I (F27) have a middle education degree, my mother is an early education teacher. I taught 4th grade for two years. I left for mental health reason haveing to do with the 28 class size, and workload. and older teachers straight up bullying me.
I'm leaving two jobs I have had for the last two years. And they’re matching that amount. I will also be moving 13 hrs away out of state to live with them. We talked about getting me insurance and how to set up irp for me. But I know working for family is tricky. So I’m looking for advice to what more should I be asking for boundary wise and thing I should watch for working for family.

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

Disclaimer: I’m not seeking a diagnosis, just looking for advice on how to approach this, what my next steps might look like.
In order for this to make sense, I’ll give my full story so far in this battle:
First thing to note is that after some traumatic emotional abuse experiences at a young age at school from a teacher, I developed what at the time looked like extreme health anxiety. While I was so young that I can’t consciously go back and remember how it felt, I know and have been told that I was generally extremely anxious about health-related stuff, and the most extreme of these was that I thought there was/might poison in my food because I had read about a poisonous frog, and had concluded that there was a slim chance that somehow the poison from the frog could end up in my food somehow, and this led me to not eating and becoming malnourished for a short time, but this changed because my parents locked me in a room until I agreed to eat as an extreme measure once I was becoming dangerously underweight. Just wanted to write that in case it’s relevant, but my more recent experiences are what’s most important.
The first time I EVER noticed obsessive thoughts was when I first tripped acid (note that I absolutely do not do this anymore lmao), and the obsessive thoughts were about me being a sociopath. It was like “am I a sociopath? I’m always so in my head and overthinking things and wondering what the right way to do things is and I don’t know what I actually feel like doing?
Anyway, that trip ended and I kind of just let it be for a little less than a year. Then I entered a romantic relationship. This was also the first ever relationship in my life where I felt like I could fully trust the other person with absolutely anything. But about a month in, I started to notice that I was really getting in my head about whether I loved her or not, whether I was just faking it, wondering who I really was and am I just some sort of autopilot chameleon. I would overthink so much every time there was vulnerability cause I had thoughts like I was either unequipped to deal with her vulnerability, or like I wasn’t capable of it and that made me defective. This led me to IFS therapy focused on trauma. While I have no doubt there are things to be found there, and I do see value in that work, I’m starting to wonder if it’s doing more harm than good as I’ll soon explain.
Fast forward a year later and ive had a lot of shit go down at once, had to leave family home abruptly, relationship is being strained by my mental health. I still suffer from health anxiety and get fixated on things like my pulse/breathing and feeling like my heart is going to stop/like I can’t get enough air in. After experiencing practically constant panic level anxiety for 3 days straight while on a tour (im a musician), I had a full nervous breakdown and ended up in hospital. At the time, it was like I was worried about literally anything making me anxious, which of course made me anxious. I was taking posters off of my walls because I couldn’t stop thinking “what if I don’t really actually like these posters and they’re just there cause I feel like they should be and I’m just doing what I think I’m supposed to instead of what I want, what do I want…?” Etc.
That was 2 months ago. The hospital stay was a constantly terrifying experience of being fixated on my heart and worrying about it being too high, which of course made it so. I got out of hospital, briefly got better and had a couple weeks where everything honestly seemed fine and then fell straight back in following a panic attack while out with a friend. Since then things have been up and down but generally pretty constant. I had to break up with my girlfriend because my mental health was putting too much strain on her, and my constant being in my head around her thinking “am I actually being genuine, or am I just making up what I think I’m supposed to be doing” was also worsening my own struggle.
Upon leaving her, I fully committed to healing and at that time was fully convinced I was dealing with trauma which was causing me to bury emotions and feel inadequate. I became OBSESSED with it. Obsessed with identifying emotions, understanding why they were there, and trying to link things back to this aspect or that aspect of trauma. That was 4 weeks ago, and I’m reaching a really horrible point. I’m at a point now where I’m obsessively thinking about EVERYTHING in an existential kind of way, trying to “work out” my brain. It’s really difficult to describe, but to give a couple glimpses, even as I write this I’m wondering “am I making this up?” And my obsessions become “meta” in a sense, where I’ll start obsessing over understanding/working out the obsessions, and then doing that again and again, like infinite layers of obsession.
I feel trapped by these obsessions, because they completely rob me of my ability to feel definitive about literally anything. My mind has gotten so good at questioning even the most mundane of things that I can’t go a minute without questioning my actions/feelings/obsessively thinking. It stops me from participating in IFS because IFS is so self-led and I just find myself questioning things all the time, less so in sessions but outside of them. And the concept of IFS and understanding the roots of trauma has become such an obsession in and of itself that I’m starting to wonder if it’s doing more harm than good for me right now. Even now I’m obsessing over whether or not what I’m saying is correct/valid or if I’m just making it up. It’s like I’m constantly gaslighting myself. And I keep adding to this out of thinking that I haven’t quite explained it right yet.
Even what I’ve written here doesn’t encapsulate the depth of obsessive introspection that I’m in. I literally do not find fulfilment in anything anymore and find some satisfaction only in things like journaling, therapy, self-help books, videos about it, and in thinking about it constantly. It’s like it’s the only thing my brain is interested in anymore.
While I’m not asking anyone if I have OCD or not, I’ll seek out a professional diagnosis for that, I am wondering desperately about what approach I might take for myself if it becomes apparent that it is OCD. I’ve NEVER heard of anything like this before and I don’t know how to break this cycle, and I don’t understand what the compulsion side of things would be for me if this was OCD. And now I’m thinking obsessively about trying to work out what my obsessions/compulsions might be! I’m trying to change things up by just observing my thoughts as what they are but even then I can become obsessive about wondering if the observation of thought is a thought and then observing that etc.
And if so, then someone who’s seen or experienced this PLEASE tell me I have hope to be different, to be able to live life and find fulfilment again. It’s like I’m in an infinitely deep hole and can’t find my way out. If there is ANY advice that anyone can give about this, then I’ll take it.

Tw: self harm, suicide, depression, sexual assault
I’m 25, and I feel sad, desperate and dead inside to the point of wanting to end things. I live in a country I’ve wanted to move to for years, I’m studying for my dream masters, I have a lot of friends around the world and near me, I have a supportive family and my boyfriend loves me and is here for me despite a long distance. Despite knowing all this, I can’t seem to get myself excited for anything - I’m unhappy, I dread almost everything, I’m irritable or straight up angry almost all the time, especially when I’m around happy people. I’m socially anxious despite being extroverted, and I sit through social interactions trying to focus on connecting with people but I just think about getting it over with and being alone as soon as possible. I’m horrible to my boyfriend half of the time - I love him and I know he’s a great guy, but I can’t help but be irritated by something he does all the time, I’m ruining our relationship and he’s constantly on the verge of breaking up with me. I don’t want that, but I don’t know how to stop all of this. I feel horrible all the time.
This has been going on and off roughly since I entered my teens. My parents provided a less than ideal home situation and I realised I was depressed around 13. Since 12 I’ve had constant patterns of binge eating and starvation, still ongoing. I started self harming at 16 and stopped at 19. When I tried to tell my parents what was going on for me when living at home, they dismissed things completely. At 17 I had a manic episode which landed me in hospital, after which I referred myself to the local mental health service, and after explaining to them my whole situation and that I felt suicidal, I won’t go into the details but I was dismissed as not at risk. A few weeks later I had my first overdose, after which when my mother found out she told me “I should be the one killing myself”. I decided I was going to be okay but failing, so at 18 a few months before going to university I started antidepressants. I struggled a lot after moving away from home and a few months into first year of university I had my second overdose. After this once again I decided I was going to be “okay”, and I started experimenting with drugs, smoking weed every night and all sorts of others. I was much happier in the period between the end of first year of university and the beginning of the 4th year, despite some inabilities to deal with my emotions. A week into my 4th year of university (with covid in full swing), I was r**ed. I spiralled out of confusion and loneliness and had a huge mental breakdown months later. I started to seek out therapy at this time but it was short lived through the university services, and I was still smoking weed non stop to deal with the huge pain I had. After graduating I moved to a different city, started a job, and once again a few months later had a huge breakdown. At this time I met my current boyfriend and started therapy. I was in therapy for about a year before I stopped for financial reasons. I was constantly dead inside, depressed and having constant mental breakdowns and taking out everything on my boyfriend, started fights over nothing every few days until he eventually broke up with me. We got back together a few months later and since then, it’s been a similar pattern of constantly nothing being good enough, fighting over nothing, me cycling through mental breakdowns, feeling dead inside and not knowing why, suicidal ideation and cycling through self destructive patterns: gym addiction, binge eating, weed smoking, wanting to end my relationship out of guilt of being an awful girlfriend. Eating healthy, getting top grades, sleeping well with no partying or drugs and exercising regularly helps and gives me the illusion of being better, and I don’t know why I simply am not…
After years of this, I don’t know what’s wrong with me and I’m not sure if I even can get better. I will be home for the summer and my mums insists on taking me to therapy, and high I was plenty surprised to hear given my financial situation preventing me seeking it out so far and my parents’ historical dismissal. I don’t know what to do in the meantime. I need hope and I need to know why I simply can’t get better and stay better. The pattern of thinking I’m finally okay and normal for years to random mental breakdown and throes of depression is making me genuinely want to end my life. I hate myself for all the fuck ups of my life and for being so unhappy and making the ones who love me unhappy. I feel like I have no right to feel this way considering how good my life is, and considering I’m the one ruining it by isolating myself from my loved ones, sabotaging my relationship by being mean and angry to my boyfriend for no reason, and being ungrateful for all I have.
I don’t know where to stop hating myself. I want to stop feeling anger, sadness, guilt and shame, and I don’t know where to start, because I truly believe I deserve it.

I’ve been rejected from a top US firm after a vacation scheme.
Throughout the scheme I got praise from grad rec, trainees, my supervisor and other partners about my personality and commitment to the scheme.
I thought I did so well that I withdrew from other firms as I was confident in converting.
This was my first VS and is my first cycle. The competition is fierce but I believed I did very well. I was the only underrepresented one in many aspects on the scheme but I did not let this stop me.
I’m happy I got to experience it but now it’s left me in this weird void of what to do next. I planned on quitting my job and doing a masters in September not possible now as I have no security of a TC after it’s completed. (From a very reputable university)
Most direct TC applications open are to firms I did Vs applications to so cannot apply or they’re US firms with an intake of 3/4 trainees. A levels are my downfall so I tend to get rejected based off of those alone. Non RG. 1st Class grade.
The people they gave the TC’s too are all Oxbridge and Durham. Most already held TC offers elsewhere. They’ve never taken on a non RG trainee so maybe I was naive to think I had a chance in the first place.
I have another VS next month but the standard of the US firm has made me not want to sell myself short going to small firm as this other VS. I will still embrace the experience and hope to get a TC.
I also have a Bar scholarship and place Jan25 start. So I have limited time to get a TC before commencing this route into law or rejecting it all together. I want to be a solicitor now and not a barrister.
Feeling like there’s no hope to get a TC and if I had a better educational background I probably would’ve converted the first VS.
I will now reject the masters offer I got for September and I’m not sure what to even do now.

These past 2 years have been brutal, it's been L after L with no break.
I feel like a mouse in a maze that every time it approaches the exit is dragged back to the start by a hand from the sky.
It doesn't matter how much I try, the outcome is always the worst possible one.
I've gone from agnostic to full on believer because I don't think someone can be this unlucky without some almighty being involved in it.
I now fully believe God exists and either:

1. He is actively punishing me
2. He has left me stranded

   
Will keep it short since I know you hoes like reading this kind of shit:
 
Around 2 years ago I was leasing a horse, and giving it my all, I was earning an entry-level salary in a comfy remote work living with my parents. Keeping the horse was costing me pretty much my full salary. I didn't go out and did anything except lifting, running, riding and working.
For almost a year I was the happiest I had ever been, I literally jumped out of bed excited to live the day, I would work 8-4, lift in my home gym and go visit my horse, either riding, or just being with him, during the time I had him I didn't go a single day without seeing him.
Of course living like this means that I don't have the most social life or friends circle, but I didn't care since every hour of my life was busy.
My plan for the year was training and competing and then in September changing jobs and buying the horse, but in July the horse was injured, I didn't get the best veterinary advice and didn't know what to do, I was being drained for a horse I couldn't even ride or enjoy, after all those months of hard work and discipline, for some reason the owner got mad, and petty sold him behind my back.
During this time, my highschool best friend started regaining contact and started meeting with me and his gf, they gave me a lot of support during those weeks, against all odds, I nailed an interview for a high-paying job that would've allowed me to buy the horse and maintain it comfortably.
I was still too hurt from what had happened, so I just chilled for a few months, saving money, and hanging out with my friend and his gf, and lifting and running, I was at my physical peak, I was lifting heavier than ever, running faster and longer, I was optimistic for the future, I just needed time to heal and I had the means to do so, social life, earning money and physical activity.
 
Fast forward to December and I receive a cryptic message from my friend's GF saying that she wasn't going to be here for my birthday (we met the previous day) because my dumbass friend just broke up with her.
That basically destroyed my little social life since they were living in the city, and my friend disappeared to be with his new GF.
I tried to comfort her and be there for her (wasn't attracted and even if I were it wouldn't be right to take advantage of the situation).
The months of just working and lifting allowed me to save enough to start looking to buy my own horse, I was still hurting from the whole situation, and being alone, but still I was just lifting heavy, running, walking my dog, keeping myself busy.
In February after trying and vetting some horses, I found one that seemed promising. I bought a very expensive veterinary exam, and he passed it, allegedly, I buy the horse.
 
Long story short, barely 3 weeks into ownership, I started noticing pain and weird stuff that shouldn't be happening since I started with very soft work, a few weeks of going through 3 different vets, and basically the horse had a life-long injury that the first vet didn't catch in the exam, and basically it was done for, I was devastated, I tried some solutions but they we're not effective, it was over.
During those months, my friend's ex-gf started coming to visit me, we slept together (no sex), we talked every day, I gave her presents, one would say what I did was love bombing her, but to me It was just being there giving support, for her it turned into a situationship.
I still had the horse, I couldn't selling him while he was untrained, and I still had a bit of faith in the vet's advice, and then, suddenly, my knee started hurting, I was lucky that in my new job I had private insurance, so I could immediately go to the orthopedist and do an MRI without the long ass waits of the public health care (up to a year for the MRI), and lo and behold, torn meniscus, it rapidly went from "pain while running" to "some days I can't even fucking walk", I had to stop riding, paying my trainer to ride my horse since I needed to sell him, I had to stop running, I had to stop doing any leg gym exercises.
I didn't want to do the surgery since what I read online was very contradictory.
 
Because shit can always get worse, one day I was alone with my parents (we also live with my brother and grandma), and I notice the vibes being off, I ask “what the fuck is your problem?” and they confess that my father doesn’t like my mom anymore, well, not to get into too much detail but since then I’ve had to endure watching my mom cry, they get into arguments all the time, just awful, thing is I was already so drained from my personal bullshit that after the initial shock, It didn’t pain me too much, they just keep living together, although I hear them arguing from time to time.
During those months my ex-friend’s ex-gf kept catching feelings for me, and my autistic ass couldn't really read the situation so I made it worse. Finally she asked me if I was going serious with her or if she could go on about her life. I said that I didn't see her as my partner, and since then she got a boyfriend and our friendship went to shit.
 
I finally sold the horse, my life got extremely bored.
I decided to do the surgery since I couldn't do any of the things I enjoyed, running, riding, whatever, but I had a trip in January with her so I had to postpone it until then, for those months all I could do was going for walks like an old man, and hit the gym (all chest no legs), I was going kinda hard tho, since I knew that during the months of recovery I would lose a lot of muscle and I wanted to go in my best form, during those months I acquired my best physique ever, for the first time, after years of being constant, I liked how my body looked.
The trip was a mistake, she nagged me every minute of it, I could tell she had only gone because it was already paid for, I had postponed the surgery 2 months just to have a horrible weekend.
 
I did the surgery and the first bad news came, they couldn't fix the broken part of the meniscus, so they took it out, this was the worst possible outcome since it would mean a shorter recovery, but the probabilities of arthritis in the future were higher, off to a good start.
2 weeks later I start going to rehab, during those weeks nobody came to visit me, well, my friend did, only to talk shit on his new coworker (during those months he would only message me to talk shit about coworkers or work), nobody else, not the situationship, not my trainer, nobody.
Speaking about the situationship, after the trip, she stopped messaging me, and even replying at all. I thought, well, there it goes, I’ve lost “not being an unopened chat” privilege.
Some boring months of rehab, working the job that I started to dread, and doing the boring ass knee exercises at home, and then, suddenly a glimmer of hope.
 
I start being treated by a “new” physio, but turns out she had been on sick leave for the same reason as me, she tore her meniscus, during those first 3-4 sessions we talked and talked for the whole hour, she was just perfect, around my age, funny, cute, was active, played sports, had a nice body, she lives like 5 minutes walk from my house.
I immediately fell in love like I had never before in my life, and that’s when it came to me, this was it, every bad thing that happened to me has come to this, to meeting this girl, everything made sense, If I had my surgery earlier I would not have met her because she would be on sick leave. My broken meniscus, my lame horse, every bad thing that had happened to me had led me to her.
So I take my autistic ass, and since I felt like we had something cool going on I ask “Hey, I think you’re very interesting and cute and would like to know you better, can I have your number so we can meet and go for a drink some day?” and she actually did give it to me, I asked for her number instead of her IG because I didn’t want to play any game, I thought she wouldn’t give me her number unless she was interested in me, I was ecstatic.
I start texting her and after refusing to meet a few times (with actually convincing excuses) I ask her “Hey if you don't want its fine I won't bother you anymore, just tell me” and she basically told me that she didn’t want to break the physio-patient barrier, I didn’t understand anything but I didn’t want to make it weirder since she is still treating me so I just accepted it.
 
The thing is, I know where she lives, I have to walk past her apartment whenever I go for a walk, drive to town, I get reminded constantly, moving on is very hard, I really thought she was for me, I thought she was finally the reward for all my suffering, but turns out she's just part of the punishment, I legit had a religious revelation, every single bad thing that had happened, God made it so I went and met her, my knee injury, having to sell the horse, losing my friends, no way it was a coincidence.
 
Now that I know that she is not for me, not even as a friend, I have nothing, the knee recovery is not going well, I was supposed to be a-ok in 6 weeks, It’s been 3 months and I still can’t even go for a walk without swelling and pain, I can’t workout because the knee exercises take a long ass time and I feel like they’re not doing shit, I don’t have friends to meet and take my mind off it, every few weeks I have to see my mum weeping around the house because my father is a piece of shit.
 
And to top it all, I just started having similar pain in the good knee, so there is a possibility that even If I hadn’t done shit, it may be injured too, this shit just doesn’t end, it just fucking never ends.
     
TLDR: Everything that has ever given me pleasure or made me happy has been taken away from me. I went from getting out of bed full of hope and enthusiasm to sleeping through my alarms because the only thing I can do is sit in front of a screen. I’ve been having the worst day of my life every day for the past 2 years, after everything I’ve worked hard for and all the sacrifices I’ve made.

These past 2 years have been brutal, it's been L after L with no break.
I feel like a mouse in a maze that every time it approaches the exit is dragged back to the start by a hand from the sky.
It doesn't matter how much I try, the outcome is always the worst possible one.
I've gone from agnostic to full on believer because I don't think someone can be this unlucky without some almighty being involved in it.
I now fully believe God exists and either:

1. He is actively punishing me
2. He has left me stranded

   
Will keep it short since I know you hoes like reading this kind of shit:
 
Around 2 years ago I was leasing a horse, and giving it my all, I was earning an entry-level salary in a comfy remote work living with my parents. Keeping the horse was costing me pretty much my full salary. I didn't go out and did anything except lifting, running, riding and working.
For almost a year I was the happiest I had ever been, I literally jumped out of bed excited to live the day, I would work 8-4, lift in my home gym and go visit my horse, either riding, or just being with him, during the time I had him I didn't go a single day without seeing him.
Of course living like this means that I don't have the most social life or friends circle, but I didn't care since every hour of my life was busy.
My plan for the year was training and competing and then in September changing jobs and buying the horse, but in July the horse was injured, I didn't get the best veterinary advice and didn't know what to do, I was being drained for a horse I couldn't even ride or enjoy, after all those months of hard work and discipline, for some reason the owner got mad, and petty sold him behind my back.
During this time, my highschool best friend started regaining contact and started meeting with me and his gf, they gave me a lot of support during those weeks, against all odds, I nailed an interview for a high-paying job that would've allowed me to buy the horse and maintain it comfortably.
I was still too hurt from what had happened, so I just chilled for a few months, saving money, and hanging out with my friend and his gf, and lifting and running, I was at my physical peak, I was lifting heavier than ever, running faster and longer, I was optimistic for the future, I just needed time to heal and I had the means to do so, social life, earning money and physical activity.
 
Fast forward to December and I receive a cryptic message from my friend's GF saying that she wasn't going to be here for my birthday (we met the previous day) because my dumbass friend just broke up with her.
That basically destroyed my little social life since they were living in the city, and my friend disappeared to be with his new GF.
I tried to comfort her and be there for her (wasn't attracted and even if I were it wouldn't be right to take advantage of the situation).
The months of just working and lifting allowed me to save enough to start looking to buy my own horse, I was still hurting from the whole situation, and being alone, but still I was just lifting heavy, running, walking my dog, keeping myself busy.
In February after trying and vetting some horses, I found one that seemed promising. I bought a very expensive veterinary exam, and he passed it, allegedly, I buy the horse.
 
Long story short, barely 3 weeks into ownership, I started noticing pain and weird stuff that shouldn't be happening since I started with very soft work, a few weeks of going through 3 different vets, and basically the horse had a life-long injury that the first vet didn't catch in the exam, and basically it was done for, I was devastated, I tried some solutions but they we're not effective, it was over.
During those months, my friend's ex-gf started coming to visit me, we slept together (no sex), we talked every day, I gave her presents, one would say what I did was love bombing her, but to me It was just being there giving support, for her it turned into a situationship.
I still had the horse, I couldn't selling him while he was untrained, and I still had a bit of faith in the vet's advice, and then, suddenly, my knee started hurting, I was lucky that in my new job I had private insurance, so I could immediately go to the orthopedist and do an MRI without the long ass waits of the public health care (up to a year for the MRI), and lo and behold, torn meniscus, it rapidly went from "pain while running" to "some days I can't even fucking walk", I had to stop riding, paying my trainer to ride my horse since I needed to sell him, I had to stop running, I had to stop doing any leg gym exercises.
I didn't want to do the surgery since what I read online was very contradictory.
 
Because shit can always get worse, one day I was alone with my parents (we also live with my brother and grandma), and I notice the vibes being off, I ask “what the fuck is your problem?” and they confess that my father doesn’t like my mom anymore, well, not to get into too much detail but since then I’ve had to endure watching my mom cry, they get into arguments all the time, just awful, thing is I was already so drained from my personal bullshit that after the initial shock, It didn’t pain me too much, they just keep living together, although I hear them arguing from time to time.
During those months my ex-friend’s ex-gf kept catching feelings for me, and my autistic ass couldn't really read the situation so I made it worse. Finally she asked me if I was going serious with her or if she could go on about her life. I said that I didn't see her as my partner, and since then she got a boyfriend and our friendship went to shit.
 
I finally sold the horse, my life got extremely bored.
I decided to do the surgery since I couldn't do any of the things I enjoyed, running, riding, whatever, but I had a trip in January with her so I had to postpone it until then, for those months all I could do was going for walks like an old man, and hit the gym (all chest no legs), I was going kinda hard tho, since I knew that during the months of recovery I would lose a lot of muscle and I wanted to go in my best form, during those months I acquired my best physique ever, for the first time, after years of being constant, I liked how my body looked.
The trip was a mistake, she nagged me every minute of it, I could tell she had only gone because it was already paid for, I had postponed the surgery 2 months just to have a horrible weekend.
 
I did the surgery and the first bad news came, they couldn't fix the broken part of the meniscus, so they took it out, this was the worst possible outcome since it would mean a shorter recovery, but the probabilities of arthritis in the future were higher, off to a good start.
2 weeks later I start going to rehab, during those weeks nobody came to visit me, well, my friend did, only to talk shit on his new coworker (during those months he would only message me to talk shit about coworkers or work), nobody else, not the situationship, not my trainer, nobody.
Speaking about the situationship, after the trip, she stopped messaging me, and even replying at all. I thought, well, there it goes, I’ve lost “not being an unopened chat” privilege.
Some boring months of rehab, working the job that I started to dread, and doing the boring ass knee exercises at home, and then, suddenly a glimmer of hope.
 
I start being treated by a “new” physio, but turns out she had been on sick leave for the same reason as me, she tore her meniscus, during those first 3-4 sessions we talked and talked for the whole hour, she was just perfect, around my age, funny, cute, was active, played sports, had a nice body, she lives like 5 minutes walk from my house.
I immediately fell in love like I had never before in my life, and that’s when it came to me, this was it, every bad thing that happened to me has come to this, to meeting this girl, everything made sense, If I had my surgery earlier I would not have met her because she would be on sick leave. My broken meniscus, my lame horse, every bad thing that had happened to me had led me to her.
So I take my autistic ass, and since I felt like we had something cool going on I ask “Hey, I think you’re very interesting and cute and would like to know you better, can I have your number so we can meet and go for a drink some day?” and she actually did give it to me, I asked for her number instead of her IG because I didn’t want to play any game, I thought she wouldn’t give me her number unless she was interested in me, I was ecstatic.
I start texting her and after refusing to meet a few times (with actually convincing excuses) I ask her “Hey if you don't want its fine I won't bother you anymore, just tell me” and she basically told me that she didn’t want to break the physio-patient barrier, I didn’t understand anything but I didn’t want to make it weirder since she is still treating me so I just accepted it.
 
The thing is, I know where she lives, I have to walk past her apartment whenever I go for a walk, drive to town, I get reminded constantly, moving on is very hard, I really thought she was for me, I thought she was finally the reward for all my suffering, but turns out she's just part of the punishment, I legit had a religious revelation, every single bad thing that had happened, God made it so I went and met her, my knee injury, having to sell the horse, losing my friends, no way it was a coincidence.
 
Now that I know that she is not for me, not even as a friend, I have nothing, the knee recovery is not going well, I was supposed to be a-ok in 6 weeks, It’s been 3 months and I still can’t even go for a walk without swelling and pain, I can’t workout because the knee exercises take a long ass time and I feel like they’re not doing shit, I don’t have friends to meet and take my mind off it, every few weeks I have to see my mum weeping around the house because my father is a piece of shit.
 
And to top it all, I just started having similar pain in the good knee, so there is a possibility that even If I hadn’t done shit, it may be injured too, this shit just doesn’t end, it just fucking never ends.
     
TLDR: Everything that has ever given me pleasure or made me happy has been taken away from me. I went from getting out of bed full of hope and enthusiasm to sleeping through my alarms because the only thing I can do is sit in front of a screen. I’ve been having the worst day of my life every day for the past 2 years, after everything I’ve worked hard for and all the sacrifices I’ve made.

For some context, a tech-priest has discovered a Genestealer Cult on a Mechanicus world and has decided to use them for his own ends. He tells them that he will wipe them out unless they perform an uprising during the national "Ascension Day" celebrations, where he will use the chaos they create to seize power for himself.
The Magus of the cult Claress is old and decrepit, she feels that they missed the time they were actually meant to rise up decades ago and the cult has atrophied since then. Worse, after a series of failed raids their best fighters were killed or imprisoned. She knows they have no chance against the crack Mechanicus troops who have pressed the world for generations but facing no other option the Cult begins its preparations and sends messages to the uncorrupted workers unions and factories that have pledged their support if an uprising against the Mechanicus happens (not knowing that they're dealing with a cult).
I like this section as while it falls into the modern 40k novel habit of listing a bunch of codex units and describing how they fight, I think that it does a good job of portraying the awkward beginnings of an uprising, where nobody actually knows what will happen that spirals into the Genestealer Cult suddenly realising that if they work together they might have a chance.

‘This is the end of us,’ she hissed. ‘The priest will use us, and then he will destroy us. Or imprison us in his jars and make us his experiments. All our ways, our traditions, our faith. He will melt it out of us. There will be nothing left but his science.’
‘Child…’ Claress repeated.
‘We should flee,’ Davien almost shouted at her. ‘All of us, each to a different hole. We should abandon this city. We should carry our words and our blood to other places. We’re finished here! I’m sorry, magus, I’m sorry.’ And she was simultaneously weeping and incandescent with rage. At herself, at Triskellian, at Claress. ‘I have ruined us! I’m a traitor. Punish me, magus. Destroy me.’
‘You have listened to the lies of the enemy, it is true,’ Claress said softly. Her hand fell on Davien’s shoulder, a husk of a thing, no weight to it. ‘And you may be punished in time, that is also true. But for now, you are one of us, and you must play your part in what is to come.’
‘But it’s a sham!’ Davien exclaimed. ‘It’s some Taskmaster plan, some infighting between them. It isn’t the time!’ Struck by a sudden hope, she searched the old woman’s face. ‘Is it? Is all this… the Emperor’s plan for us? Can it be?’ And before she could hear any empty comforts, she rushed on. ‘Tell me truly, magus. Please tell me.’
The sad calm on Claress’ face was heartbreaking. ‘I don’t know, child. I wish I could give you all the grand certainties in the world. I wish I could give you the words of fire and faith I’d speak in the chapel, of the Many-Handed Emperor and His angels. But that is what faith is for, Davien.’ She sagged, sinking in on herself a little more. ‘Take me to my chamber. I must rest before tomorrow.’
‘You can’t take to the streets, magus. Not you.’
‘I must. We all shall play our part. We shall triumph together, or we shall fall. I do not want to be left alone if my kin are taken from me.’
Davien led her deeper into the maze of cellars. All around, the Congregation were in a frenzy of preparation. The building was haemorrhaging the faithful as they rushed out to carry the magus’ words across all the poor districts of the city. Out there, all Davien’s distant kin would be arming themselves. And the others, all those who weren’t blood but who had suffered beneath the crushing iron boot of the tech-priests, they’d be gathering too. All of them cast against the iron walls of the Hollow Men.
When she had Claress back to the old woman’s bed, she helped her lie down, hearing joints click and crack. The magus lay there, staring at the low ceiling, then shifted her head to look at the painting of the Emperor on the far wall. It was flaking now, half-obscured with grime. A depiction from the time of the Great-Aunts and Uncles, when the blood of the Emperor was stronger in them, so that none of the Congregation could show their faces for fear of being known for what they were. A figure with four arms: two human hands and two with radiant claws like crescent moons. An elliptical head split by a great benevolent smile that was all teeth. The eyes were beatific, murderous, inhuman. Davien had stared at the image often, feeling out its contradictions, letting them speak to the human and the inhuman within her. It frightened her; it inspired her.
‘I hear them singing to me.’ Claress’ dry voice rose to her. ‘The angels. They throng the cold void. And I sing back. I tell them, We are here. We are faithful. We’re waiting for you. And their great wings carry them across the freezing spaces, through the perilous labyrinth of the warp. They are coming, Davien. They tell me, We hear you. We come for you. Only have faith, and you shall become part of us. The Blessed Union, child. Our destiny.’ She laughed softly, coughed, shuddering with each dry convulsion. ‘They came from the stars, our ancestors. The first on Morod to bear our blood was an angel’s child, and so we are children of angels. But weaker, each generation. I lack the strength of the Aunts, the might of the Great-Aunts. I am too human to be truly strong. But I hear them, Davien. They are so beautiful. There is nothing on this ugly world to compare to them. I need to see them with my own eyes, before I grow too old.’
And Davien, one of the diminished survivors of a younger generation still, thought about how thin her own blood was, how little of the angel remained. ‘Do you think the priests’ Ascension Day will be our ascension too? Or will all our blood just end up on the streets and in that priest’s laboratory?’
Claress’ yellow gaze switched to her. ‘Faith is all that we have, when the machinery of this world comes to crush us. I hear the angels. They come to us, but space is vast and the warp is a trickster. All we can do is believe that the Many-Handed Emperor will not abandon His faithful in their time of need. That He is a true divinity, beyond the enthroned corpse the machine-priests worship. Our god lives, Davien. Our god is life, life in all its many forms and guises. Theirs is dust and ancient mechanisms. We must prevail, or we give the universe over to entropy and death. Only by our truths can life eternal survive and spread throughout the cosmos. Do you understand me, child? Do you have faith?’
And Davien thought, We are going to die tomorrow, on the streets and in their arena. This is not the true uprising we were promised, it is some priest’s gambit. But she couldn’t hold to those thoughts against the old woman’s rustle of a voice. It got under her skin. It spoke to all those services in the buried chapel. It spoke to her blood.
Easy to have faith when you were strong, after all. And what was the value of it, then? But they stood under the steel hammer of the tech-priests, and they would rise up nonetheless. Let Triskellian think it was all to his plan. The Congregation would rise because it was their time. Who said that he was using them? And even though, intellectually, she knew the truth, she still felt that fire in her, that burned away all doubt.
‘I believe, magus,’ she said fiercely. ‘Tell me what I must do.’
The next dawn, even as the tech-priests were attending their early Ascension Day devotions, the streets of the South Chasm districts erupted into armed uprising.
Davien saw it from the rooftops, crossing from building to building by the gantries, bridges and ropes that the skitarii periodically brought down but the locals always strung up again. All night the Congregation’s messengers had been running like sparks through the poorer districts of the city, seeing which claves would catch their fires. All of the true faithful rose up without question, of course. Right now she could only see the more inarguably human of them, those marked only by a pallidity of skin, patches of chitinous scales, unblinking yellow eyes perhaps. No unusual traits on as poisonous a world as this. Behind and within the walls of the tenements, though, the older generations of the god-touched would be stirring; would be eager. They had waited all their long lives, after all. They had hidden away as their younger offspring had busied themselves in the world, unable to show their distorted faces. They had known only the burning fire of their faith, and now that faith told them, Rise!
The streets were thronging with people, just ordinary people. And yet, not ordinary, for in many of those bodies a few drops of divine blood ran. But they were not the superhuman figures of Imperial myth. Not the Adeptus Astartes that had been made into little gods; not the tech-priests, elevated by machinery until they had forgotten what it was like to have two living feet on the ground. People, with nothing but their faith, and what tools and weapons they could scavenge or make themselves. And today they would attempt to wrest control of their destiny from those who had ordered and limited their whole lives.
And they would die, she knew. Heavy-hearted she watched them muster, factorum workers clapping each other on the shoulder, hard greetings called across the crowd. There were banners there, and some were of the Many-Handed Emperor Scattering His Angels Upon the Faithful, but there were others, too. Crude standards celebrating this ward or that factorum, this mining crew, even one for the staff of a workers’ refectory. There was an air of festival, just as if they were celebrating the damned Ascension Day after all.
And then the first skitarii came into sight. Davien knew she should be away by now, off on the errand that Claress had given her, but she couldn’t. She had to see if the whole venture would collapse into tragedy.
A wedge of red-clad cybernetic soldiers ordered itself precisely across the street ahead of the gathering mob. Behind them, a pair of dragoons stalked in, towering over the soldiers’ heads. Their riders couched forked lances snapping with sparks, even as the servitor beneath them, merged with the workings of the machine, directed the Ironstrider’s jerky motions. The crowd stilled, seeing all those carbines levelled at them, knowing more would be on the way.
The skitarii alpha called out, voice amplified until it rattled Davien’s skull like thunder. ‘By the order of the Fabricator General, you are required to disperse. There will be no second warning.’
And Claress stepped forwards from the ranks of the crowd, standing ahead of them, raising her staff. Somehow her high, clear voice carried even to Davien. ‘Faith and freedom! Faith for the true Emperor’s blood! Freedom from the yoke!’
The skitarii opened fire.
Davien screamed when they did it, curled away from the blaze and heat of it, knowing this was surely the end even as the uprising began. But in the echo of the shots she dared look, and saw Claress somehow untouched, standing with bodies to her left and right, the faithful who had put themselves in harm’s way. And not so many bodies, even, not compared to the vast mass of humanity that was packing the street. Angry humanity, crammed with grievances.
Claress’ voice called out again, and now she was sounding the charge. Davien saw members of the Congregation break into a run on either side of her, funnelling through the streets in a great rush, wielding hammers and prybars and power-cutters, emptying their shotguns and automatics into the skitarii wedge. The dragoons were in motion instantly, striding over the heads of their human-sized allies, accelerating into a counter-charge with lances lowered. Davien saw the first connect, its huge iron feet sending insurgents flying even as the lance swept an arc through the crowd, charring and burning. Then an eye-rending beam of light seared into it. One of the mining crews had a rock laser set up on the rooftop across from Davien and they drew lines of molten steel across the dragoon’s chassis before striking something vital.
In an instant the walking machine flashed incandescently and exploded, laying waste to the nearest fighters in a horrible toll of shrapnel and shredded flesh. For everyone left standing, though, that was the signal to rush forwards. Moments later the skitarii were giving ground, shooting and falling back. Or just falling, dragged down by the crowd who saw them as nothing more than the tools of their oppressors.
And then Davien was off, roof to roof, eyes open for when the tech-priests’ more subtle instruments decided the higher reaches were their territory. There would be rangers up here sniping down at the crowd soon enough. There would be the murderous rust-stalkers trying to flank the Congregation to bring down its leaders with their blades and claws. She had to be ahead of all of that. She had work to do, a task entrusted to her by the magus herself.
She shadowed the forerunners of the mob until they exploded out before Nilhetum Square, where the rail depot was. More of the Palatium’s troops were disembarking even as everyone arrived, hurriedly evacuating the train and taking up position to defend it. And if the Congregation wished to reach the Palatium, they needed to control the train line, and they needed to take it swiftly before the tech-priests began destroying their own infrastructure to deny it to the rebels.
There were more than just skitarii out there. She saw the low, trundling shapes of Kataphron servitors grinding down ramps from flatbed carriages, armoured human head, torso and arms set into a mechanised assault vehicle that was also their lower body. Davien felt a flare of rage at the tech-priests and their meddling. They took the divine flesh and carved it and pared it down, merged it with their devices. Nothing could be left alone. Nothing had any value until it was incorporated into their machines. And, on a grander scale, no individual lives had worth unless they were components of the wider priestly engine that spanned the human universe and enslaved everything it touched to their cold metal vision.
The Kataphron were terrors, nigh invulnerable to the weapons the foot-soldiers of the Congregation had brought, but by now the rioters had been given the chance to bring in their own big guns. With a choking roar and a belch of smoke one of the big quarry trucks raced out of a side street, already up to its lumbering top speed. It was a heavily armoured Goliath model, its entire front given over to rock-grinding blades that would chew hungrily on skitarii machine-flesh or the armour of the Kataphron. And, in its wake, a flurry of robed figures bearing a banner showing that familiar many-armed figure. The Aunts and the Uncles had come out from their cellars and holes, from their forgotten wall-spaces where they had waited for generations. Even as the Goliath powered forwards, meeting the lead Kataphron head-on and making a jagged mess of its armour, the elders were leaping around and over it, brandishing knives, pistols, or just their own hooked talons. And there was more. Davien felt a voice in her head, then. A singing so pure and beautiful that she thought it must be the angels, come at last. All the Congregation must have heard it, from the way they redoubled their pace and closed joyously with the skitarii and the machines.
A great figure, head and shoulders over the rank and file, had come into the square – a Great-Aunt, one of the true elders, shrouded in streamers and rags of cloth that could not hide the divinity of her form. She sang, and the Congregation echoed her, voices upraised in prayer and praise. In one of her three hands was a banner, not the crude handmade things the crowd had spent last night creating but something ancient, preserved for this day over generations. It showed not the expected Imperial visage, but an emblem with that same long-jawed head and a trailing cog-backed body; a serpentine shape curled in upon itself, one end a hooked claw, the other hungering jaws ready to devour the tech-priests and all their works.
The skitarii turned their weapons on her, blasting away, but the banner had electrified the Congregation so that they were swarming the lines, clambering over the Kataphron, braving the massed fire of their foes. Davien saw explosives go off, mining charges devastating bodies on both sides. She saw brutal knots of knife-work and bayonets and the bludgeoning butts of carbines, no quarter given.

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

Hi, this is my first time posting on Reddit. I just need to vent some frustration.
I'm currently attending a well-respected university. Our department is pretty small, with only around 1,000 students across all four years. My boyfriend (we've been together since first year, during online classes) is 22, and I'm 20. Building on what I mentioned, my boyfriend and our Dean (34F & a single mom) are family friends, but their friendship seems to have blossomed during the return to in-person classes. She, along with many others, knows my boyfriend and I are together. It's pretty common knowledge—I'm involved in a lot of student organizations and consistently make the dean's list, so many professors and students recognize me.
During face to face classes, After our 2 PM classes, my boyfriend would usually take me home. Sometimes we'd grab a date, but other days he'd just crash at my place for a nap then uuwi siya (at least, that's what I thought). Napapansin ko, palagi silang magka chat and he doesn’t even call her ma’am or miss, first name basis sila. At first, I just brushed it off. I mean, come on, she's way out of his league, age-wise, and super respected pa. But, lagi niya inuutusan si BF—utos dito, utos doon. He practically lives in her office na running errands like chauffeuring her around in her car or his. I tried to be cool about it, but the jealousy's creeping in. TAKE NOTE: he won’t let me open his phone or hold his phone pero okay lang sakin kasi sobrang tiwala naman ako sakanya.
Gaano sila ka close? For example:
It was a school break, so we barely saw each other. But it was our monthsary, and we'd planned this date for ages. I was so hyped, all dressed up, and we were having a great time until...he slams on the brakes and says our dean needs a ride. Apparently, she got into a small accident, and no one else can drive her car? Seriously? My heart sank. He ditched our date to chauffeur her around, and I ended up back at home, alone, in my fancy dress.
December (NEW YEAR) at 12 am: he told me matutulog na siya kasi lasing na daw. Turns out, a friend of mine spotted him smooching some chick at a bar. Sinend sakin yung video the next morning pero diko makita yung face ni girl kasi naka lean siya sa neck ni bf. I confronted him about it pero sabi niya someone daw na kilala niya dati. (Grabe siya mang gaslight, grabe siya mag sinungaling). Even before the New Year's Eve incident, there were red flags I ignored, marami na nagsasabi sakin na he’s up to no good but I used to think trusting people meant shutting out outside opinions, especially when they painted him in a bad light. I wanted to believe the best in him, even if he looked like a walking "fboy stereotype." Blind trust turned into heartbreak. This whole situation has been a wake-up call. My self-worth is important, and I can't let anyone walk all over me. So yeah, we broke up.
But last week ko lang nalaman, Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, his best friend throws another grenade into the situation. He confessed that my boyfriend manipulated me from the very beginning, and there was more to their "friendship" than meets the eye. After nya pala ako ihatid samin, he would go back to school to be with our dean. The woman he cheated on me with last December? Our freaking Dean. And get this - turns out there was already something going on between them even before that. I feel so betrayed, like everything he ever told me was a lie. It's disgusting. I’ve heard pa nga na they’re officially together na ngayon and ayaw daw ni Dean na lumalapit sakin si boy, or sumama even with our friends (we’re classmates btw). Medyo all out na rin sila sa relationship nila. The Dean's behavior is actually frankly concerning. She shows up at every off-campus basketball game, sitting on the player's bench and cheering him on, completely disregarding the professional boundaries. It's no wonder rumors are flying around our department na.
But yah, With her being the Dean, it terrifies me that my grades or academic standing could be affected by all this personal drama. I don't care about their relationship, I just want to focus on my studies and not have this mess spill over into my academic life.

I am grateful to the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva for offering me this precious opportunity to share my experience of practising Buddhism with you.
I am 62 years old. Today, I can eat, sleep and walk like a normal person. However, did you know that I once was a paralyzed woman who could not even get up from bed, had difficulty turning over, and could not take care of myself? Through practising Buddhism and reciting Buddhist scriptures, I have completely freed myself from the misery of hell. I want to tell you with hard facts that practising Buddhism and reciting the scriptures has not only given me a second life, but has also benefited me immensely. I want to share with you how I transformed myself from paralysis to health within four years without undergoing any surgery! May my presentation plant the seeds of bodhi in your hearts, so that more people will have faith in Guan Yin Bodhisattva who has boundless supernatural power, and recite Buddhist scriptures as soon as possible to be free from suffering and gain happiness!
1. When I was young, I opened two bars so I created bad karma, and karmic retribution is right on my heels!
I am the eldest daughter of my family and the eldest daughter-in-law of my in-laws family. Both my mother and mother-in-law are Buddhist practitioners and urged me to practise Buddhism as well. However, because of my youthful ambition and good fortune, at the age of about 36, I ran two bars and enjoyed the pleasure of earning money, not bothering to practise Buddhism at all. By then, I was young and foolish, in the bars I gained filthy money by means of woman’s charms, which invariably created a lot of bad karma. How many people lost their morals and conscience for my sake of monetary gain? How many families have been broken up behind the scenes? How many people have done many things against ethics and morality under the paralysis of alcohol? I hereby express my deepest repentance to Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Karmic retribution is inescapable. I planted the evil cause so I reap the evil effect. The bad karma I created within two years of running the bars has brought me a tragic retribution 13 years later! (So, dear fellow practitioners, please take this as a warning!)
In 2010, I was 49, my predestined 369 calamity arrived. One day in July, my karma exploded. I suddenly collapsed at home kitchen while stirring frying vegetables. In an instant, I felt that the sky was falling, and I had nowhere to turn for help. An otherwise healthy me entered a life of hell on earth from then on. Every day, I ate, drank, pooped and peed in bed, had difficulty turning over, couldn't wash my hands and face, had trouble swallowing, so it was worse than death. I was paralyzed in bed from then on. The doctor said I had a herniated disc in my lower back. All the bones in my back were misaligned. Both knee bones were necrotic and so swollen. I have visited all the local city and provincial hospitals, big and small, to seek medical care. I almost spent all the several hundreds of thousands of RMB I had gained from my bar business. However, the condition got worse and worse.
2. Since encountering the excellent Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door, I have been practicing Buddhism hard to overcome any obstacles on the way and finally achieved a new life.
Perhaps it was the blessing from my family members who had been making offerings to the Buddha and practising Buddhism for years. Thanks to the mercy of Guan Yin Bodhisattva, I finally encountered the Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door in 2012 when I was in the most desperate situation in my life. The person next door to my bar heard that I was sick and came to see me. She brought me Buddhist scripture, recitation device, Buddhism in Plain Terms, counters and many other Dharma gems. She told me the Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door was very efficacious, and asked me to try it. Although I could not move on bed, I listened all Master Lu's recordings like a thirst. I was pleasantly surprised to hear cases of patients who had been cured of cancer and serious illnesses by practising Buddhism and reciting the scriptures. The recordings of Master Lu's programs were like a bright beacon in the darkness, bringing me hope for life and giving me great encouragement. I felt I was awakened by a powerful energy, stirring up my strong desire to live. I told myself: I must survive; I must save myself! I started to practice Buddhism and recite scriptures as if I had grabbed a lifeline.
I am illiterate, so I had to lie in bed every day and learn to recite word by word with the recitation device. Due to the heavy karma, there was no virtuous and the high-minded practitioner around to teach me how to burn the Little Houses in a rational and lawful way. I foolishly took an ashtray instead of a plate to burn the Little Houses, which resulted in the ashtray blowing up. In order to eliminate karma quickly, I was foolishly reciting the Heart Sutra and Amitabha Pure Land Rebirth Mantra after ten o'clock at night, which resulted in the light bulbs breaking several times (Here, I sincerely remind my fellow practitioners: Master Lu enlightened us not to recite the Heart Sutra and Amitabha Pure Land Rebirth Mantra after ten o'clock at night. Please make sure to read the Introduction to Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door carefully in order to avoid practising Buddhism irrationally). Therefore, we must follow the instructions of Master Lu, and never do what the Master does not allow us to do. The whole process of reciting Buddhist scriptures to eliminate karma is very bumpy. It is really easy to create karma, but very hard to eliminate it! However, I firmly believed that the Bodhisattva is infinitely powerful. As long as I diligently practised Buddhism, my fate would definitely get changed. Hence, I relied on the blissful cases in Master Lu's recordings as my spiritual support. I kept persevering, not afraid of any difficulties, and recklessly recited Buddhist scriptures.
Since I ate, drank and pooped in bed, my aura was very bad. As I could not get up by myself, so I had to lie in bed to recite the sacred Buddhist scriptures. I felt guilty and torn, wondering if this was the appropriate way to recite the sacred Buddhist scriptures. Will it affect the effect of the recitation? Gratitude to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for Her compassion, and I dreamed of Master Lu that night. Master Lu who was dressed in a black suit smiled at me and kindly comforted me: “don't worry.” After I woke up, I was very grateful for Master Lu's compassion. Master Lu knew about my special situation, so this is a sympathy and a condolence to me. After I recited Buddhist scriptures 4 to 5 months late, my neck and head were able to turn significantly. Such a Dharma blissful change thrilled me. All the trials and perseverance I had gone through in the past had not been in vain. Guan Yin Bodhisattva has boundless supernatural power, which had given me a glimmer of hope for recovery! (Here, I sincerely remind my fellow practitioners: In the absence of illness, recitation of Buddhist scriptures must be respectful. A point of respect harvests a point of benefit.)
3. The unique characteristics of attending the Dharma conference and formally acknowledging Jun Hong Lu as my master allow my physical health to improve with Dharma joy
In February 2017, I befriended a fellow practitioner. She invited me to attend the Macau Dharma Convention together. I thought to myself: “can I take the bus by myself?” “Can I attend the conference?” With a strong faith from my inner heart, I attended the conference via keeping reciting the Great Compassion Mantra on the trip. Unbelievably, I arrived at the conference as I wished with the blessing and protection of Guan Yin Bodhisattva, although my bulky legs could only barely support my body in the seat. I was in tears when I listened Master Lu's wise words and saw the holy icon of Guan Yin Bodhisattva. On the night of the conference, I dreamed of Guan Yin Bodhisattva! Gratitude to Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva for saving me from suffering and giving me a new life. At the end of the Macau Dharma Convention, I instantly made two vows: to be a vegetarian for 15 days per month and liberate 10,000 fish.
Before I attended the Macau Dharma Convention, I had to take a break whenever I walked two steps, and my body was not able to move much. After returning, my legs started to become strong enough to support my body and I could walk on flat ground. Despite they were not very flexible, they were no longer the same as when I was paralyzed like a limp in bed. My whole body is getting better and better in essence, vital energy, and spirit. I was very surprised! Master Lu has enlightened that there are many Buddhas and Bodhisattvas coming to bless attendees at each Dharma conference!
In August 2017, before the Dharma Convention in Malaysia, my fellow practitioners urged me to formally acknowledge Jun Hong Lu as my master. Since I am an illiterate, compassionate fellow practitioners helped me to fill out the application form of seeking discipleship. My fellow practitioners told me that there were so many people wanted to formally acknowledge Jun Hong Lu as their master that I might not be able to reach my wish this time. Then, I had to wait for the opportunity next Dharma Convention. I told myself that whether I could reach my wish or not this time, I would actively participate in Master Lu’s Dharma Convention. Considering my age, it is a blessing for me to attend one more Dharma Convention. To my surprise, one week later, my application for seeking discipleship was approved. Gratitude to Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva!
On the day of seeking discipleship, I was very excited. During the process of seeking discipleship, I heard a voice in stereo that was very loud. When I opened my eyes, I was surprised to see Tathagata Buddha, and many other Bodhisattvas coming down from heaven. At that moment, I saw that the upper half of Master Lu's Dharmakaya appeared transparent with a huge lotus flower. I was suddenly moved to tears. I was oblivious to the fact that Master Lu had come to my side until the time of issuing the discipleship certificate. Master Lu was very compassionate and empowered me with blessing. Master Lu enlightened, "Because five people opened their eyes during the worship ceremony, they have no lotuses planted in the pure land. But it's okay, when the ceremony is over, you can go to the front and kowtow to ask the Bodhisattva (to plant a lotus)." I then rushed to the front to worship. Before I finished worshiping Bodhisattva, a young fellow practitioner came over. He asked, "How do you feel? Did you see anything?" I said, "I saw Tathagata Buddha." He asked, "How are you sure that was Tathagata Buddha?" I said, "Both my mother and mother-in-law are Buddhist disciples, and Tathagata Buddha has curly hair."
I was grateful for the compassionate blessing from Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu. When I returned home after seeking discipleship, I made two vows: to be a vegetarian for the rest of my life and never kill (animals). The power of a vow outweighs the force of karma. After I made the vows, Master Lu’s Dharmakaya came to help me heal my legs in my dreams. Once, I saw Master Lu’s Dharmakaya passing by my room while I was half-squinted. Master Lu asked me, "Which foot is uncomfortable? Where is aching?" Instantly I woke up and then I found that my feet didn't feel as heavy as they used to be and I walked more lightly. I excitedly shared the news with my old father, "Master Lu has come to bless me again!" I am grateful to Master Lu for his compassionate care for every sentient being. Every time I dreamed of Master Lu, he would always compassionately endow me with abundance of blessing, and I was always surprised by the improvement in my health.
In a short time, I could not only separate my feet and take turns to walk up and down the stairs independently. Moreover, I could bend back and forth freely with my arms crossed. The bones in my back, which were all misaligned and uneven, were now completely normal again. Previously, I couldn't raise my hands to wash my face, brush my teeth or comb my hair because the bones in my back would pull the nerves and cause severe pain when I raised my hands. In those days, whenever I sneezed or defecated, I felt like to cheat death on pain. In those hellish day I went through unimaginable pain and suffering. Now, however, I can take care of myself completely and move around freely. Sometimes I get a little tired after walking for too long, but I can recover after 10 minutes of rest in bed. Although it is still slightly bumpy while I was walking, if you don't look closely, you can't see it. My family was overwhelmed to see the dramatic change from being paralyzed and bedridden to walking independently since I practised Buddhism. My old father, who was taking care of me at the bedside, complimented me straight away: you have completely changed, becoming healthier and healthier now! I was so excited that I had tears in my eyes. Without the rescue of Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I really wouldn't have the blissful transformation I have today!
In 2019, at the Dharma conferences of Indonesia and Singapore, I pleaded with my fellow practitioners to be merciful to give me the opportunity to volunteer. According to the rules of the Dharma conference, I was already overage. However, I was adamant that I must do volunteer work. Guan Yin Bodhisattva has given me a second life, so I have to serve all sentient beings physically. I am grateful for Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva who helped me out. When I came back from the conferences, I found that I could bend and squat easily and freely, and I had no problem even sitting on the floor. I am grateful to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for compassionately helping me to eliminate my karma at every conference, so that I can obtain incredible blessings and improvement occur every time.
4. The incredible blessing of setting up the Buddhist altar accelerated my health recovery and created a medical miracle.
From the time I set up the Buddhist altar in 2017, I insisted on offering Bodhisattvas incenses morning and evening every day. At first, the body was still straight and could not bend and bow. For two years, in front of the Buddhist altar, I prayed for Bodhisattvas to bless me so that I could recover my health a little better so I can use my own experience as an example to convince sentient beings to gain faith on Dharma and practise Dharma. Gradually, I was able to stand to offer incense to Bodhisattvas, to bend and bow, and finally to kneel in front of the Buddhist altar to recite the scriptures. I was full of Dharma joy! Initially, my back still hurt from kneeling. With the karmic obstacles being removed, my back didn't hurt anymore. Sometimes when I went out with fellow practitioners to set up the Buddhist altar, particularly on the Buddha's Birthday, I could kneel to recite the Eighty-eight Buddhas Great Repentance for an hour and a half. My fellow practitioners couldn't keep it up, so I was the only one who kept it up until the end. I am so grateful to Guan Yin Bodhisattva for Her compassionate blessing!
At one time, the doctor at the provincial hospital told me that I had to have surgery to put two steel plates into the bone, but I refused. Because I firmly believe that with the of blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I am afraid of nothing. Buddha is an extraordinary doctor. The only way to recover completely is to repent sincerely and practise Buddhism. I can now move as freely as a normal person. This medical miracle achieved was completely relied on practising Buddhism, reciting scriptures, being a vegetarian, helping new practitioners to set up Buddhist altars, volunteering at Dharma conferences, and actively propagating the Dharma. To improve my family economic financial, I went out to work on construction sites as a helper, do cleaning and housekeeping!
Those patients who were once slightly paralyzed did not recover as quickly and well as I did, even with surgery.
Dear readers, when you see such a dramatic change in me, what are you hesitating for? Hurry up and pick up the Buddhist scriptures to recite! I am the living example, the ironclad evidence. Guan Yin Bodhisattva does exist, and She is Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate, answers any prayers.
Thinking of the bad karma I created in the two bars when I was young, I feel grievously sinful. I have earned ill-gotten wealth, but the karma was produced, and karmic retribution is inescapable. If one hasn't been retributed, the time hasn't come yet. After I got old, all the retribution came to me. Not only did I use up all my money, but I also had to suffer from physical illness and paralysis. I advise everyone to remember Master Lu's enlightenment: Do not do anything that is evil; Do not fail to do good no matter how petty the deed; Do not engage in evil no matter how trivial the deed. Dear readers, please consider it carefully before earning any money, and don’t commit such deep sins as I did for the sake of monetary gain, or else the consequences will follow you!
Without the merciful salvation and blessings of Guan Yin Bodhisattva and Master Lu, I would not have been reborn today! I made a few great wows: honour the teacher and respect his teachings, live an ascetic life for lifetime, be a vegetarian lifetime, not kill, not eat eggs, not smoke, not drink; transcend the cycle of rebirth for good and attain enlightenment in one lifetime. In this life, I will follow Guan Yin Bodhisattva to cultivate my mind and change my behaviour and never quit. I will follow my benefactor, the Compassionate father, Master Lu, to propagate Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door and never stop! Although I am over 60 years, I will continue using my own experience as an example to convince sentient beings to gain faith on Dharma and practise Buddhism. Together with my fellow practitioners, I will get up early and go home late to help set up Buddha altars for new practitioners. No matter how far and how difficult the trip is, I will always be strict with myself. I will go wherever I am needed. Even if I am eating, as soon as I receive a mission for propagating Dharma, I will put down my chopsticks and set off without delay.
Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door is peerlessly efficacious, and Guan Yin Bodhisattva is Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate, saves beings from suffering, has supernatural power, and answer all prayers. As long as we have a devout heart and we persist in reciting Buddhist scriptures and practicing Buddhism, no difficulty can defeat us! My physical changes are the most powerful evidence! May my true presentation give some inspiration to those people who are still suffering from illnesses, so that they can acquire faith to practising Buddhism, and pick up the Buddhist scriptures to recite. May more sentient beings having affinity with Buddha break free from delusion and attain enlightenment, balance egoism and altruism, and free from suffering and gain happiness.
My deepest gratitude to the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva!
My deepest gratitude to all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas from ten directions and three periods of time!
My deepest gratitude to the Dharma protectors!
My deepest gratitude to the selfless and altruistic Master Jun Hong Lu!
If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the truth in the presentation, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors, and Master Jun Hong Lu.
I’d also like to seek forgiveness from my fellow Buddhist practitioners.
I, not my fellow practitioners, will be responsible for my own karma!
Shared by: Dharma Practitioner Ganen, Gratitude and Namaste!
Translated by: Frank
Statement by Translator

1. Story was translated from Chinese into English by meaning, not word by word. If there is anything that is not rational or in line with the true meaning of the Chinese version, I’d like to seek forgiveness from the Greatly Merciful and Greatly Compassionate Guan Yin Bodhisattva, all Buddhas and Bodhisattvas, Dharma protectors and Master Jun Hong Lu.
   
2. Author Ganen was interviewed by Frank during the translation for the detailed information.
   

Propagation
It would be greatly appreciated if you would forward this presentation to all sentient beings you know, sick or healthy. You will accumulate immeasurable merits and virtues. Saving a life is more meritorious than building a seven-floor pagoda!
Would you like to change your destiny?
We will show you how to do the Five Golden Buddhist Practices of Guan Yin Citta Dharma Door: (1) making vows, (2) reciting Buddhist scriptures (sutras and mantras), (3) performing life liberation, (4) reading Buddhism in Plain Terms, and (5) repenting. You will personally witness how you and your family can achieve physical and mental stability, relief from illness and grievances, wisdom growth, academic progress, career advancement, and family happiness through Dharma. It’s free of charge.
Contact
Buddhist practitioner: Lily
Email: [sunnypurplelily@gmail.com](mailto:sunnypurplelily@gmail.com)
WeChat: HanJing20210820
原文如下:
从瘫痪卧床到行走自如做家政，心灵法门创造了医学奇迹
感恩南无大慈大悲救苦救难广大灵感观世音菩萨摩诃萨！
感恩十方三世一切诸佛菩萨！
感恩龙天护法金刚菩萨！
感恩恩师慈父卢军宏台长！
感恩师兄们！
感恩大慈大悲观世音菩萨慈悲，让我能有这个宝贵的机会与大家分享我的学佛经历。我今年62岁，现在是一个能吃、能睡、能走路的正常人了。但是，你们可曾知道，曾经，我是一个连床都起不了、翻身都困难，生活完全无法自理的瘫痪老人！如今，通过学佛念经，我把自己从地狱的苦海里完全挣脱了出来。我要用铁一般的事实告诉大家：学佛念经不仅给了我第二次生命，更让我受益无穷。我要跟大家分享，在这患病的四年里，在没有经历任何手术的情况下，如何让自己从瘫痪到健康的蜕变！愿我今天的分享给有缘人种下菩提种子，让更多的人相信观世音菩萨法力无边，早日学佛念经，离苦得乐！
1. 年轻时开酒吧造恶业，得现世报！
我是家中的长女、婆家的长媳。母亲和婆婆都是学佛人，都劝我也学佛。但是，由于年轻时好胜心强，加之财运不错，36岁左右，我经营两家酒吧，享受挣钱的快乐，根本无心学佛。年轻愚痴的我经营酒吧时靠女色来赚取黑钱，赚的都是不正之财，无形中造了很多恶业。在这种灯红酒绿中生活，我为了金钱利益，让多少人丧失了自己的道德与良知？背后又造成多少个家庭的破裂？又有多少人在酒精的麻痹下做出多少违背伦理道德的事情？弟子在此向观世音菩萨深深忏悔！因果报应丝毫不爽，种恶因得恶果。开酒吧这两年中我所造下的恶业，在十几年后让我得到悲惨的现世报！所以，请大家引以为戒！
2010年我49岁，正逢“三六九”关劫。7月的一天，我的业障大爆发，在家炒菜时突然间倒下。瞬间，我感觉天塌下来，叫天天不应，叫地地不灵。一个原本健康的我从此进入人间地狱般的生活。每天，我吃喝拉撒都在床上，翻身都很困难，没法自己洗手洗脸，吞咽困难，简直生不如死。我从此瘫痪在床。医生说我是腰椎间盘突出。后背的所有骨头都错位。两个膝盖骨头坏死，肿得很大。当地市里、省里大大小小的医院我都看过了。我几乎把我做酒吧生意所赚到的几十万块钱都花光了。然而，病情越来越严重。
2. 得遇殊胜法门，坎坷学佛路中坚持不懈地修行换来重生
也许是家人一直供佛学佛的福德。承蒙观世音菩萨慈悲，在我人生绝境之时，我终于在2012年得遇心灵法门。以前我开店隔壁的人听说我病倒了，就来看我。她给我送来了经书、念佛机、《白话佛法》、计数器等很多法宝。她告诉我心灵法门很灵验，让我试试。我躺在床上虽然无法动弹，却如饥似渴地把师父的录音听了个遍。听到人们通过学佛念经把癌症、重症都治愈的案例，我惊喜万分。师父的节目录音就像黑暗中的一盏明灯，让我看到了生活的希望，给了我很大的鼓舞。在这个过程中我像被一股强大的能量加持唤醒，激起了求生的强烈欲望。我告诉自己：我一定要活过来；我一定要自己救自己！我像抓住了救命稻草似地开始拼命学佛念经。
我不识字，只能每天躺在床上跟着念佛机一字一句地学着念。由于业力牵引，身边没有遇到善知识教我如理如法地烧送小房子。愚痴的我曾拿个烟灰缸代替盘子烧送经文组合小房子，结果烟灰缸炸掉了。为了抓紧时间消业，我晚上十点后还在念《心经》和《往生咒》，结果家里的灯坏了好几次（趁此机会我诚心提醒师兄们：师父开示，晚上十点后不要念诵《心经》和《往生咒》，请师兄们一定要好好看《心灵法门入门手册》，避免操作不如理不如法）。所以，我们一定要听师父的话，师父不让做的就不做。念经消业的整个过程非常坎坷。真是造业容易，消业难啊！但是，我坚信菩萨法力无边，只要精进努力，一定会得到改变的。于是，我依靠师父录音中的法喜案例作为精神支撑。我一直坚持不懈，不怕万难，拼命念经。
由于吃喝拉撒都在床上，气场非常不好，自己又无法起身，只能躺在床上念经。我内心愧疚又纠结，不知道这样念经是否如理如法？会不会影响念经效果？感恩菩萨慈悲，当晚我就梦见师父了。师父身穿着黑西装，一边慈祥地笑着一边安慰我：不要担心。醒来后，我非常感恩师父的慈悲。师父知道我的特殊情况，这是对我的宽容和安慰啊。后来，大概念经差不多4～5个月后，我的脖子和头也能明显地转动了。这样法喜的变化，让我激动万分。我过去所经历的磨难与坚持都没有白费。观世音菩萨法力无边，让我看到了康复的一丝希望！（作者提醒：师兄们，在没有病痛的情况下，念经一定要体态恭敬，一分恭敬一分受益。）
3. 参加法会与拜师的殊胜，让我的身体不断法喜蜕变
2017年2月份，我结识了一位师兄。她邀请我一起去参加澳门法会。我心想：我能自己坐车吗？能去法会吗？凭着内心坚定的信念，路途中我一直念《大悲咒》。虽然我笨重的双腿只能勉强支撑着身体坐在座位上，但在观世音菩萨一路加持护佑下，我竟然能够如愿到了法会现场。现场听到师父开示、看到观世音菩萨的圣像，我泪如雨下。大法会当天晚上，我就梦到了观世音菩萨！感恩大慈大悲救苦救难观世音菩萨救我于苦海，给了我新的生命和生活。澳门法会结束，我当即发愿：一个月吃素15天，放生一万条鱼。参加澳门法会前，只要走两步路我就要歇一歇，而且我的身体没办法大幅度活动。
澳门法会回来后，我的双腿开始变得有力，可以支撑起身子在平地上走路了。虽然还不是很灵活，但是比起原来像软泥一样瘫痪在床的状态，已经不可同年而语了。我整个人精、气、神也越来越好。我非常惊喜！师父开示过，每场法会有很多佛菩萨来加持大家！
2017年8月，马来西亚法会前，师兄们让我拜师，但我不识字。慈悲的师兄们帮助我代笔填写拜师申请表。师兄们告诉我，这次拜师的人太多，有可能排不上队，得等到下一场法会才有机会。我告诉自己，无论这次能不能拜师，我都一定积极参加师父的法会。我这么大年纪了，能参加多一场法会都是我的福报啊。让我惊喜的是，一个星期后，我的拜师申请通过了。感恩观世音菩萨慈悲！
拜师当天，我激动万分。在拜师过程中，我听到一个非常立体、非常响亮的声音。我睁开眼睛时，我竟然看到了如来佛祖，还有好多菩萨都从天上下来了。这时，我看到师父上半身的法身呈现透明状，有一朵大大的莲花。我顿时感动得泪如雨下。直到颁发弟子证的时候，我浑然不觉师父已经走到我的身边。师父非常慈悲，给我灌顶加持。师父说:“因为拜师过程中有5个人睁开了眼睛，所以莲花没有种上去。不过没关系，等拜师仪式结束后，可以到前面去磕头求菩萨。”我就赶紧跑到前面去拜。我还没拜完，就过来了一个年轻师兄。他问我：“您感觉怎么样？有没有看到什么？” 我告诉他：“我看到如来佛祖了。” 他说：“您怎么确定那是如来佛祖呢？”我说：”我家母和家婆是学佛人，如来佛祖头发卷卷的。”
感恩观世音菩萨与师父的慈悲加持。拜师结束回家我就发愿: 终生吃全素，不杀生。真是愿力大于业力，发愿后，师父又来梦里帮我治疗双腿。有一次，我半眯着眼睛看到师父从我的房间经过。师父问我：“还有哪只脚不舒服？还有哪个地方疼痛的？” 瞬间我就醒了，醒来我发现我的双脚没有了原来的沉重感，走起路来更加轻盈了。我激动地跟老父亲分享：“师父又来加持我啦！”感恩师父慈悲关怀着每一位众生。每次梦见师父，师父都慈悲给予加持，我的身体总会有惊喜的好转。
没过多久，我不仅可以分开双脚，轮流迈开步伐独立上下楼梯。而且，我双手叉腰，可以前后自如地弯腰。后背的骨头原本因为全部错位并高低不平，如今完全恢复正常了。原本我没办法把手举起来洗脸、刷牙和梳头，因为手一抬，后背的骨头扯神经会导致剧烈的疼痛。每次打喷嚏或排泄的时候，都有种痛不欲生的感觉，就像死里逃生一样。这种地狱般的日子让我历经常人难以想象的苦痛折磨。然而现在，我的生活可以完全自理并且行动自如。有时候走太久会有一点点累，但是卧床休息十几分钟就可以恢复过来。虽然走路还有一点点高低现象，但如果不仔细看，是看不出来的。看到我学佛念经以来，从瘫痪卧床到独立行走的巨大变化，我的家人无比震惊。当年在床头边照顾我的老父亲直夸我：现在整个人完全变了，变得越来越健康了！我激动得泪眼婆娑。没有观世音菩萨与师父的大慈大悲救苦救难，真的不会有我今天的法喜蜕变！
2019年印尼法会和新加坡法会上，我恳请师兄们慈悲给我做义工的机会。按照法会规定，我已经超龄了。但是，我坚决一定要做义工。观世音菩萨给了我第二次生命，我就要身体力行地为众生服务。感恩观世音菩萨的慈悲，让我能如愿以偿。从法会做完义工回来，我发现我可以轻松自如地弯腰和下蹲，就连坐在地板上也没有问题了。感恩菩萨每次法会上都慈悲帮我消业，让我每次都能有不可思议的加持，变化。
4. 设佛台的不可思议加持，加速我身体恢复健康，创造医学奇迹
从2017年设佛台起，我每天坚持上早晚香。起初，身体还是直直的，不能弯腰鞠躬。两年里，我每天在佛台前上香求菩萨加持，让我身体能恢复得更好一些，能为众生表法。慢慢地，我从站着上香到弯腰鞠躬，到最后可以跪在佛台前念经。真是法喜充满啊！刚开始跪着后背还是很痛。随着业障的消除，我的后背也不疼痛了。有时候和师兄们出去设佛台，遇到佛诞日，我跪着念诵《礼佛大忏悔文》足足有一个半小时的时间。许多师兄都坚持不下来，唯独我坚持到结束。真是感恩菩萨慈悲加持！
曾经，省医院的医生告诉我，必须做手术把两块钢板放进骨头里，但我回绝了。因为我坚信有观世音菩萨和师父两座靠山，我什么都不怕。在因果面前，佛是大药王。唯有诚心忏悔，学佛修行才能彻底康复。我完全靠学佛念经吃素、设佛台、参加法会做义工，积极弘法度人，才创造了医学奇迹：现在和正常人一样行动自如。我甚至去工地做小工，搞卫生、做家政弥补家用！那些曾经轻微瘫痪的患者就算做手术，也没有我恢复得快，恢复到如此好的状态。
读者朋友们，你们看到我如此天翻地覆的变化，还犹豫什么呢？赶快捧起经书念经吧！我就是活生生的例子，铁一般的证据。观世音菩萨真实存在，并且大慈大悲有求必应啊！
现在回想起年轻时开酒吧所造下的恶业，真是罪孽深重。不正之财赚到了，可是，因果报应丝毫不爽，不是不报，时候未到。在我人到老年时，所有的报应一涌而来。不但钱财全部用尽，还要遭受肉体病痛的瘫痪之苦，因果不空啊！奉劝大家一定要谨记师父的教诲：诸恶莫作，众善奉行！不以善小而不为；不以恶小而为之！挣任何钱财之前都要三思，切记不可为了金钱利益而像我一样造下如此深重的罪孽，否则果报如影随形！
没有观世音菩萨和师父的慈悲救度与加持，就没有我今天的重生！弟子许愿尊师重道、一生清修、终生吃全素、不杀生、不吃鸡蛋、不抽烟、不喝酒；一世修成，永断轮回。今生跟着观世音菩萨修心修行，永不退转。跟着恩师慈父卢军宏台长弘扬心灵法门永不停息！我虽然60多岁了，但是我要身体力行地为大家表法，起早贪黑地和共修组师兄们一起去助缘设佛台。无论路程多么遥远，多么艰辛，我都严格要求自己。哪里需要我，我就走到哪里。哪怕我在吃饭，只要接到弘法任务，我一定当即放下筷子，一刻也不能耽误地出发。
心灵法门灵验无比，观世音菩萨大慈大悲，救苦救难，法力无边，有求必应。只要我们有一颗虔诚的心，只要我们坚持念经修行，没有什么困难可以打倒我们！我的身体变化就是最有力的证据！愿我的真实分享给那些还在受着病痛折磨的人们一些启发，让大家生起学佛念经的信念，捧起经书念经，愿更多的有缘众生能够早日破迷开悟，自利利他，离苦得乐！
我的分享结束了，分享中如有不如理不如法的地方，请观世音菩萨慈悲原谅！请十方三世一切诸佛菩萨和龙天护法菩萨慈悲原谅！请师父慈悲原谅！请师兄们批评指正！我自己的业障自己背，不让师兄们背！感恩合十！
分享人：感恩～全素
2022-02-28
请将本文慈悲转发给瘫痪病人及其家属
请转发这篇文章给瘫痪病人及其家属，您会积累无量功德。救人一命，胜造七级浮屠！！！
您想改变命运吗？
我们手把手传授您观世音菩萨的心灵法门五大法宝：“许愿”、“放生”、“念经”、“看《白话佛法》”、”大忏悔”。您将亲自见证如何通过佛法让自己及家人获得身心安定、病苦解除、冤结化解、智慧增长、学业进步、事业提升、家庭幸福。
欢迎联络我们
Lily佛友：sunnypurplelily@gmail.com
Lily微信：HanJing20210820
Disclaimer of Liability:
The contents of the presentation and answers, including text, images, and other information obtained from Dharma practitioners, are provided strictly for reference purposes. Due to the unique nature of individual karma, results similar to those experienced by the authors may not be replicated. The experiences and advice shared should not be construed as medical advice or a diagnosis.
In the event of an emergency, it is crucial to promptly contact your doctor or emergency services by dialing 911. Relying on any information found in the answers is done solely at your own risk. The translator and answerer bear no responsibility for the consequences. By using or misusing the contents, you accept liability for any personal injury, including death. It is imperative to exercise caution and seek professional medical guidance for health-related concerns.