Bubble letter word maker
THEORY: New song is about dissociative amnesia and overcoming it (Memory merge)
2024.05.20 04:23 smavinagain THEORY: New song is about dissociative amnesia and overcoming it (Memory merge)
Alright, so this is probably gonna be short because there's no lyrics yet and i have an auditory processing disorder BUT! I think I can make out what is being said (found the lyrics as i was writing the post, prepare for this to be a long one)
little background info: Amnesia is loss of memory, these can be experiences, facts about yourself, etc etc. Everyone knows that trope in fiction where guy hits their head and forgets who they are, that's generalized amnesia, super rare, usally it's more localized/selective (specific period of time or memories related to a specific thing). Dissociative Amnesia is the term for when amnesia has a psychological origin instead of a physical origin, usually caused by trauma or other intensely stressful events. I know a lot about that 'cus I got dissociative amnesia
ANYWAY
now that that has been explained, here is my EVIDENCE!
"Did it really happen or were they pieces thrown around, the past is built on lies and one word could break it down" not 100% sure I wrote that right, but whatever. I think this line could be about a false view of the past as a result of dissociative amnesia and that "one word" or piece of evidence could shatter that because they could realize they don't remember something (most people with dissociative amnesia don't realize what they don't remember unless it's pointed out)
"Floating recollections scanning for patterns to compare" This line seems to indicate the protagonist (speckle) can remember some things around the event/events/period of time that is forgotten and is trying to compare fragmented memories "floating recollections" to piece together what happened
"The sweetness of your face, and the tenderness of your warm embrace, somehow they left a bitter taste." I think this line indicates the dissociative amnesia was caused by a person, perhaps someone who caused severe stess/trauma after appearing to be nice.
"There's nothing to trace, painful times they were all erased"
I think this means that the painful memories (trauma/severe stress, maybe something else) were "erased" as is the thing that happens with dissociative amnesia
"And yet my body's screaming don't make the same mistakes"
I think this is talking about their behaviour still being influenced by the events, despite the lack of recall ability, as events that were forgotten with dissociative amnesia are not actually "lost" in the brain per say, but have been shown to often still influence behaviour even if they cannot be consciously recalled.
"Can I go ahead and surrender, to the visions that I just can't remember" This is an interesting one, some people who have past trauma they can't remember will have flashbacks that they can't remember the content of once they end (I would know, I get these)
"Reveal all the trauma I suffered I'll relive it all to be born much stronger"
I think this is about the dissociative amnesia being remembered/finding out about the events another way
"Then there's no way someone else can repeat What you did to me"
Sounds like the person is not wanting to get over the trauma and keep it in their head so they're always prepared for the future if/when something like that were to happen again
""Did that really happen?" Thoughts into voices now reshaped"
Perhaps doubting that it really happened if the dissociative amnesia hasn't fully lifted or simply denial?
"I wished for recovery But was given no escape"
This could be interpreted quite a few ways, could be that the person was unable to escape during the trauma (as is often the case with complex traumas, the type that is more likely to cause dissociative amnesia) or is unable to escape the memories of the trauma in their mind, perhaps both.
"Now I see through all your endeavours And the sinful scars that I'll hold forever"
I think this is about them being able to see through the person who caused the trauma's facade of niceness or something like that, and about the permanent mental scarring(or maybe physical too) as a result of the trauma
"Was there any chance for me to run Was there something different that I could've done"
Ruminating over the trauma/blaming self for it possibly.
"I'm left with a mangled mind that repeats What you did to me"
Sounds like it's talking about flashbacks/intrusive memories as a result of PTSD, and a "mangled mind" meaning all the consequences of that.
"There was a reason they were thrown away Why they were locked behind from my display"
Possible regret from finding out the memories? In therapy it's often approached very carefully as when the amnesia lifts a lot of terrible emotions can bubble up really fast.
"And now my memory's in disarray It forced a reinstall Remember to forget them all"
Not entirely sure what this means but maybe it's about still-existing gaps in memory because of the amnesia or the memories were remembered suddenly and "forced" back and now want to be forgotten again
That concludes my lengthy interpretation of "Memory Merge" by Yonkagor! Perhaps the music video releasing tomorrow will shine more light on what this means!
submitted by smavinagain to YonKaGor [link] [comments]
little background info: Amnesia is loss of memory, these can be experiences, facts about yourself, etc etc. Everyone knows that trope in fiction where guy hits their head and forgets who they are, that's generalized amnesia, super rare, usally it's more localized/selective (specific period of time or memories related to a specific thing). Dissociative Amnesia is the term for when amnesia has a psychological origin instead of a physical origin, usually caused by trauma or other intensely stressful events. I know a lot about that 'cus I got dissociative amnesia
ANYWAY
now that that has been explained, here is my EVIDENCE!
"Did it really happen or were they pieces thrown around, the past is built on lies and one word could break it down" not 100% sure I wrote that right, but whatever. I think this line could be about a false view of the past as a result of dissociative amnesia and that "one word" or piece of evidence could shatter that because they could realize they don't remember something (most people with dissociative amnesia don't realize what they don't remember unless it's pointed out)
"Floating recollections scanning for patterns to compare" This line seems to indicate the protagonist (speckle) can remember some things around the event/events/period of time that is forgotten and is trying to compare fragmented memories "floating recollections" to piece together what happened
"The sweetness of your face, and the tenderness of your warm embrace, somehow they left a bitter taste." I think this line indicates the dissociative amnesia was caused by a person, perhaps someone who caused severe stess/trauma after appearing to be nice.
"There's nothing to trace, painful times they were all erased"
I think this means that the painful memories (trauma/severe stress, maybe something else) were "erased" as is the thing that happens with dissociative amnesia
"And yet my body's screaming don't make the same mistakes"
I think this is talking about their behaviour still being influenced by the events, despite the lack of recall ability, as events that were forgotten with dissociative amnesia are not actually "lost" in the brain per say, but have been shown to often still influence behaviour even if they cannot be consciously recalled.
"Can I go ahead and surrender, to the visions that I just can't remember" This is an interesting one, some people who have past trauma they can't remember will have flashbacks that they can't remember the content of once they end (I would know, I get these)
"Reveal all the trauma I suffered I'll relive it all to be born much stronger"
I think this is about the dissociative amnesia being remembered/finding out about the events another way
"Then there's no way someone else can repeat What you did to me"
Sounds like the person is not wanting to get over the trauma and keep it in their head so they're always prepared for the future if/when something like that were to happen again
""Did that really happen?" Thoughts into voices now reshaped"
Perhaps doubting that it really happened if the dissociative amnesia hasn't fully lifted or simply denial?
"I wished for recovery But was given no escape"
This could be interpreted quite a few ways, could be that the person was unable to escape during the trauma (as is often the case with complex traumas, the type that is more likely to cause dissociative amnesia) or is unable to escape the memories of the trauma in their mind, perhaps both.
"Now I see through all your endeavours And the sinful scars that I'll hold forever"
I think this is about them being able to see through the person who caused the trauma's facade of niceness or something like that, and about the permanent mental scarring(or maybe physical too) as a result of the trauma
"Was there any chance for me to run Was there something different that I could've done"
Ruminating over the trauma/blaming self for it possibly.
"I'm left with a mangled mind that repeats What you did to me"
Sounds like it's talking about flashbacks/intrusive memories as a result of PTSD, and a "mangled mind" meaning all the consequences of that.
"There was a reason they were thrown away Why they were locked behind from my display"
Possible regret from finding out the memories? In therapy it's often approached very carefully as when the amnesia lifts a lot of terrible emotions can bubble up really fast.
"And now my memory's in disarray It forced a reinstall Remember to forget them all"
Not entirely sure what this means but maybe it's about still-existing gaps in memory because of the amnesia or the memories were remembered suddenly and "forced" back and now want to be forgotten again
That concludes my lengthy interpretation of "Memory Merge" by Yonkagor! Perhaps the music video releasing tomorrow will shine more light on what this means!
2024.05.20 04:06 WhyYesIfNo Anime_irl
submitted by WhyYesIfNo to anime_irl [link] [comments]
2024.05.20 04:04 modestmedusa Within the past year, I remembered my CSA and other trauma at the hands of my mom and finally escaped by moving out one month ago. Here is the letter I addressed to her on Mother’s Day that I’ll never send
TW for sexual, physical, medical, emotional, and religious abuse, childhood sa, suicidal ideation, and self harm
This past week has been incredibly difficult so I decided it would be good for me to write a letter to my mom to keep for myself during my healing process to get everything out and it's been very cathartic (all fake names used). Part of my healing journey has been sharing my (extremely personal) experience with others who understand, hence why I'm sharing this here, and maybe it'll give someone some strength knowing that I made it out. I hope everyone is kind to themselves this week and was able to treat this holiday as a holiday for themselves for surviving their abusive moms!
Dear mom, Happy belated Mother’s Day. My Mother’s Day was spent being upset and anxious so I decided to write this letter. This letter is so incredibly difficult to write and even more difficult to read back to myself. Moving away from my university and back home during COVID was genuinely one of the most difficult things I have done in my life simply because of all of the repressed memories that flooded back into my brain every single day I was in that house. I used to resent the pandemic for forcing me to live in an environment that made me want to harm myself every single day and die every other day, but I am now thankful for the clarity that it brought me as I don’t think I’d have the foresight that I have now.
There is a lot that I want to say. I am angry, bitter, resentful, and traumatized from things that you have done to me as a child and also as an adult. Growing up, you’re never able to fully recognize what is healthy because whatever you experience will be your barometer for normalcy. I thought for a very long time that thing were normal but thank God I now know just how truly fucked up so many of my childhood experiences were. Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about the emotional, physical, and sexual abuse that I went through. I am haunted every single day by things that you did (and some things that you didn’t do) and hope that one day I will be able to heal from what I experienced.
I grew up being close to my cousin Chloe (a year younger than me) who was obviously very bitchy, mean, and abusive. This fact isn’t something you weren’t aware of as I know a fully grown adult would be able to see how she treated and talked to me when around you and come to the obvious conclusion that I should not have been allowed to be around her. She bullied me, called me names, physically assaulted me by pushing me, pulling my hair, and sitting on me with my hands held behind my back until I couldn’t breathe, forced me to bathe in scolding hot bath water that would burn my skin, making me undress and make fun of parts of my body, and forced me to watch things that she knew would scare me. This is the same time that I started having insomnia and struggled in school due to anxiety. It’s also the same time I remember my sound sensitivity starting. Do you remember my childhood friend’s mom Amelia and how protective she was over my friend, Diana? Diana met Chloe at my 9th birthday party and Diana went over to her house for a playdate and Chloe did something to her. She physically reached over and groped Diana on the privates. I knew Amelia IMMEDIATELY prevented her daughter from ever being around Chloe again. I also knew that it's possible she mentioned this to my aunt, but I'm not positive. I know that Amelia is the type of mom to prevent Diana from reading Harry Potter because she thought it was a bad influence on her due to being “demonic”, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she made you aware of what Chloe did to Diana as she knew that I spent a lot of time around her. I doubt that what Chloe did to Diana was ever kept a secret from you. Chloe also forced me to do sexual things I didn’t want to do from roughly the ages of 8-11. One time, we were in her kitchen and she pulled out a knife and said that she was going to stab me. By then, I knew she just wanted to scare me so when I had no reaction, she put the knife away. I was terrified of what would happen if I said no to her so I went along with whatever she wanted. She would go into the bathroom and tell me to follow, would lock the door, and make me take off my clothes and let her do things to me and forced me to do the same things to her. I used to think that you had NO IDEA about this until I remember you saying the words- “you were an amazing kid and never had any problems until you got a little older. I always wondered if something happened.” Who the fuck says that to their kid? Yeah, something did happen and it wouldn’t have happened if you protected me!!!! You fucking idiot!!!! I remember being in our new house and taking a shower with you when I was about 8 (which was VERY inappropriate and should NEVER have happened at all) and saying something that clearly made you uncomfortable. I remember the exact face you made and know that any normal, healthy adult would have done something about it and made sure nothing was happening. They would have made sure I was SAFE, and talked to me about safety, but nothing was said or done. You have failed me many times, but this one is the most painful. Not only will you need to live with the fact that you knew about my abuse and did nothing, but I will have to live with the fact that my mom knew "something happened” and didn’t care about me enough to protect me. I look at my beautiful niece Hallie, and imagine not protecting her like that and want to vomit. I cannot fathom how a mother would have the thought “I wonder if something happened to my daughter to case a massive behavioral change” and NOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! You didn’t talk to me, never asked me if Chloe was doing anything, or anything at all. If I even had a minor suspicion that something was happening to Hallie, I would IMMEDIATELY do something about it because THAT IS MY JOB as an adult in her life. You failed me and deserve to know that this traumatized me and gave me PTSD. I am NOT autistic, no matter how much you WANT me to be so you can go around and gain sympathy for “having an autistic daughter” rather than owning up to the fact that you caused what “went wrong” with me.
Not only did you not help prevent me from being molested by my cousin, you also added to my sexual trauma by forcing me to use the giant egg monistat insert to treat a yeast infection when I was 11. I was ELEVEN and you had a bright idea to force a HUGE foreign object into my prepubescent body even though you were fully aware I could have easily gotten a prescription for a pill to swallow from a doctor. I was scared. I had so much pain and itching and needed a mother to hug me, tell me it’s going to be okay, or at the very least, EXPLAIN what I had and how we were going to fix it. You didn’t do any of that. You told me to lay down and proceeded to try and administer medication that is NOT meant for children 12 and under due to the physical damage it could cause. I was clearly in pain and scared, but you kept trying anyways. At any point, you could have stopped and taken me to the fucking doctor, but nope. You then got frustrated that “you couldn’t get it in” and told your 11 year old daughter to shove it inside herself. Then you left the room. I hadn’t even had a period yet, let alone know where my vagina was but you sure felt the need to yet again abandon your parental responsibilities and place them onto your kid! Miraculously, I put it in and wobbled out to lay on the couch because I was in physical pain from BOTH the infection and YOU, but because a child’s body isn’t able to properly fully insert the medication used (which once again I’ll remind you is meant for girls 13 and up), it came out and got on the couch because you didn’t give me a pad. And rather than prioritize your own daughter’s health, safety, wellbeing, and comfort, you were more upset about the stain on the couch and yelled at me. I will never forget in all of the years that I am alive how ashamed and disgusted I felt standing behind you watching you furiously scrub at the stain that I caused (actually, that YOU caused since this never should have happened in the first place!) and feeling a huge flood of guilt every time I saw that couch stain. One of the best days of my life was when we got a new couch and I never had to see that stain again.
All of this caused me to develop anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and ideation, self harming behaviors, having out of body experiences where I dissociate, and panic attacks amongst other things. YOU caused ALL of this and you fought tooth and nail to convince me that it was MY fault for being broken. “There’s something going on with you,” and you made it your mission to never take any responsibility for any of the trauma that you caused. Not only did you ignore all signs of abuse and sexually assault me yourself, you bullied and helped a family friend Sharon bully me when I was “being mean” to (her daughter) Faith. I was treated like I was a mentally ill monster who couldn’t be trusted and always got in trouble whenever Faith shed a single tear because I was “mean to her”. Faith cried at LEAST 15x a day, and I was blamed every time she decided to say I was the reason. You allowed a monster (Sharon) to ABUSE me and had the incredibly wise idea to start passing along what shit talking you two would say about me TO ME, a 13 year old girl. I was THIRTEEN. I was A CHILD. And yet, you came crying and complaining to me about how tired you were of hearing Sharon say I was being mean to her daughter when you could have TOLD THE OTHER ADULT IN THE SITUATION TO STOP. It never was my responsibility as a child to try and make another adult stop abusing me by “behaving better.” There was nothing wrong with how I was behaving. You never once tried to help me, you always blamed anybody and everybody else for your failures. I would come and ask you for help when I was struggling and if you didn’t care, you would pawn it off to somebody else- “go talk to your older sister” “talk to your therapist about that” “I don’t know what to say except to tell you to pray about it” and when I came back saying praying didn’t magically fix my depression, you told me to pray harder. I guess you really thought it was a skill issue rather than a diagnosable health condition! No wonder I wanted to die! Hahaha! I’ll never forget the look of disgust on your face when I was sobbing hysterically and struggling to get out the words when I told you just how badly I was affected by Sharon and said how you played a role in helping her harm and abuse me. “WELL. I’m SORRY if you think I didn’t protect you enough. I know what that feels like because my parent’s took my sister’s side a few weeks ago when we were having an argument” (as FULLY GROWN 50+ YEAR OLDS arguing and bitching LIKE CHILDREN!) No, mom, it’s not the same. I was a child and not only did you not stop an abuser from harming me, you joined in. You allowed her access to me and you passed along what horrible things she said was wrong with me. “SHARON said she thinks YOU’RE BIPOLAR. Do you think you are?” “Sharon told me that you’re having AN EPISODE and are being mean to Faith! Show me your phone!” “Well, I just don’t understand why you keep bringing this up when it happened so long ago. I just hope you can forgive her and move on.” You’re fucking disgusting. Should I go into detail about how many times I asked you to not interact with Sharon more than you needed to and you proceeded to try and force her into my life more? You KNEW how uncomfortable I was with you attending Faith’s wedding and yet, you cared more about how you looked and not only attended, but hosted both her wedding and wedding showers. I have always wondered why you never cared how I feel until I realized that you prioritize yourself and how you look to other people above anything and everyone. There is a clear pattern of behavior-
Do you want to know what my sister said when I told her all of this? She apologized to me for not being 15 years older than I am so she could have raised me instead. I want you to sit here and think about how fucked up that is. My own sister wishes she could have taken me away from you so you couldn’t have abused me. I imagine the pressure she must have felt having to grow up while also raising her mother and sister and I sob for her. I’ve sobbed for me for the mental anguish and torture I experienced at your hands. I’ve even sobbed for you because I can’t imagine being even a fraction of how fucked up you are to resort to abusing and neglecting your child- a child you begged to have. A child you had trouble having and prayed for. Embarrassing.
I’m never going to have a relationship with you again. If God is willing, I will never have to interact with you ever again. Saying that phrase “if God is willing” is ironic because you forcing me to pray my problems away rather than helping me led me to not believe in him. How can I believe in something that also neglected me? I’d sit in my dark bedroom night after night praying and sobbing for him to help me. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I felt broken and alone. I now know that I was a child praying for God to take away my PTSD, and that is not possible. My heart breaks for that child.
You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother and human being. I’m truly shocked that I survived you and your abuse. I’m surprised that I didn’t ever try to kill myself to try and get away from you because you’re a vulture that prays on innocent people. The only important people in your life are people you think will give you something or will make you look good. That’s why you refused to ever cut ties with Sharon, you knew she was sexually abused as a child and you couldn’t POSSIBLY NOT be her friend because you need her to be your “friend,” or rather, your token sexually abused as a child friend. I genuinely hope that you get better and become a normal healthy person but I won’t ever be around to see it. I hope you feel even a fraction of the pain and abandonment that I have felt my entire life. Happy Mother’s Day, but today isn’t Mother’s Day for me, it’s Daughter’s Day. Moving far away from you one month ago has truly saved my life. Instead of trying to survive, I am enjoying my life. I would have died in that house. I get to finally celebrate being away from you and celebrate myself for staying strong and fighting when I could have easily given up. You once told me “you feel like I HATE you!” to guilt me into fawning over you and telling you how much I loved you, but now you get the opposite. I DO hate you and hate how you have permanently changed me and I wish to never see you again. Instead of praying for the “God forsaken, atheist, lost, evil, liar, miserable, spiteful, hateful, disgusting, mentally ill, “autistic” daughter, pray for yourself. Pray for God’s forgiveness for emotionally, medically, physically, sexually, and religiously abusing and neglecting me. You deserve to remain in your "clueless" state of "having NO IDEA what you did wrong to make her stop talking to me!" for the rest of your life.Happy Daughter’s Day.
submitted by modestmedusa to CPTSD [link] [comments]
This past week has been incredibly difficult so I decided it would be good for me to write a letter to my mom to keep for myself during my healing process to get everything out and it's been very cathartic (all fake names used). Part of my healing journey has been sharing my (extremely personal) experience with others who understand, hence why I'm sharing this here, and maybe it'll give someone some strength knowing that I made it out. I hope everyone is kind to themselves this week and was able to treat this holiday as a holiday for themselves for surviving their abusive moms!
Dear mom, Happy belated Mother’s Day. My Mother’s Day was spent being upset and anxious so I decided to write this letter. This letter is so incredibly difficult to write and even more difficult to read back to myself. Moving away from my university and back home during COVID was genuinely one of the most difficult things I have done in my life simply because of all of the repressed memories that flooded back into my brain every single day I was in that house. I used to resent the pandemic for forcing me to live in an environment that made me want to harm myself every single day and die every other day, but I am now thankful for the clarity that it brought me as I don’t think I’d have the foresight that I have now.
There is a lot that I want to say. I am angry, bitter, resentful, and traumatized from things that you have done to me as a child and also as an adult. Growing up, you’re never able to fully recognize what is healthy because whatever you experience will be your barometer for normalcy. I thought for a very long time that thing were normal but thank God I now know just how truly fucked up so many of my childhood experiences were. Not a single day goes by where I don’t think about the emotional, physical, and sexual abuse that I went through. I am haunted every single day by things that you did (and some things that you didn’t do) and hope that one day I will be able to heal from what I experienced.
I grew up being close to my cousin Chloe (a year younger than me) who was obviously very bitchy, mean, and abusive. This fact isn’t something you weren’t aware of as I know a fully grown adult would be able to see how she treated and talked to me when around you and come to the obvious conclusion that I should not have been allowed to be around her. She bullied me, called me names, physically assaulted me by pushing me, pulling my hair, and sitting on me with my hands held behind my back until I couldn’t breathe, forced me to bathe in scolding hot bath water that would burn my skin, making me undress and make fun of parts of my body, and forced me to watch things that she knew would scare me. This is the same time that I started having insomnia and struggled in school due to anxiety. It’s also the same time I remember my sound sensitivity starting. Do you remember my childhood friend’s mom Amelia and how protective she was over my friend, Diana? Diana met Chloe at my 9th birthday party and Diana went over to her house for a playdate and Chloe did something to her. She physically reached over and groped Diana on the privates. I knew Amelia IMMEDIATELY prevented her daughter from ever being around Chloe again. I also knew that it's possible she mentioned this to my aunt, but I'm not positive. I know that Amelia is the type of mom to prevent Diana from reading Harry Potter because she thought it was a bad influence on her due to being “demonic”, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she made you aware of what Chloe did to Diana as she knew that I spent a lot of time around her. I doubt that what Chloe did to Diana was ever kept a secret from you. Chloe also forced me to do sexual things I didn’t want to do from roughly the ages of 8-11. One time, we were in her kitchen and she pulled out a knife and said that she was going to stab me. By then, I knew she just wanted to scare me so when I had no reaction, she put the knife away. I was terrified of what would happen if I said no to her so I went along with whatever she wanted. She would go into the bathroom and tell me to follow, would lock the door, and make me take off my clothes and let her do things to me and forced me to do the same things to her. I used to think that you had NO IDEA about this until I remember you saying the words- “you were an amazing kid and never had any problems until you got a little older. I always wondered if something happened.” Who the fuck says that to their kid? Yeah, something did happen and it wouldn’t have happened if you protected me!!!! You fucking idiot!!!! I remember being in our new house and taking a shower with you when I was about 8 (which was VERY inappropriate and should NEVER have happened at all) and saying something that clearly made you uncomfortable. I remember the exact face you made and know that any normal, healthy adult would have done something about it and made sure nothing was happening. They would have made sure I was SAFE, and talked to me about safety, but nothing was said or done. You have failed me many times, but this one is the most painful. Not only will you need to live with the fact that you knew about my abuse and did nothing, but I will have to live with the fact that my mom knew "something happened” and didn’t care about me enough to protect me. I look at my beautiful niece Hallie, and imagine not protecting her like that and want to vomit. I cannot fathom how a mother would have the thought “I wonder if something happened to my daughter to case a massive behavioral change” and NOT DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT! You didn’t talk to me, never asked me if Chloe was doing anything, or anything at all. If I even had a minor suspicion that something was happening to Hallie, I would IMMEDIATELY do something about it because THAT IS MY JOB as an adult in her life. You failed me and deserve to know that this traumatized me and gave me PTSD. I am NOT autistic, no matter how much you WANT me to be so you can go around and gain sympathy for “having an autistic daughter” rather than owning up to the fact that you caused what “went wrong” with me.
Not only did you not help prevent me from being molested by my cousin, you also added to my sexual trauma by forcing me to use the giant egg monistat insert to treat a yeast infection when I was 11. I was ELEVEN and you had a bright idea to force a HUGE foreign object into my prepubescent body even though you were fully aware I could have easily gotten a prescription for a pill to swallow from a doctor. I was scared. I had so much pain and itching and needed a mother to hug me, tell me it’s going to be okay, or at the very least, EXPLAIN what I had and how we were going to fix it. You didn’t do any of that. You told me to lay down and proceeded to try and administer medication that is NOT meant for children 12 and under due to the physical damage it could cause. I was clearly in pain and scared, but you kept trying anyways. At any point, you could have stopped and taken me to the fucking doctor, but nope. You then got frustrated that “you couldn’t get it in” and told your 11 year old daughter to shove it inside herself. Then you left the room. I hadn’t even had a period yet, let alone know where my vagina was but you sure felt the need to yet again abandon your parental responsibilities and place them onto your kid! Miraculously, I put it in and wobbled out to lay on the couch because I was in physical pain from BOTH the infection and YOU, but because a child’s body isn’t able to properly fully insert the medication used (which once again I’ll remind you is meant for girls 13 and up), it came out and got on the couch because you didn’t give me a pad. And rather than prioritize your own daughter’s health, safety, wellbeing, and comfort, you were more upset about the stain on the couch and yelled at me. I will never forget in all of the years that I am alive how ashamed and disgusted I felt standing behind you watching you furiously scrub at the stain that I caused (actually, that YOU caused since this never should have happened in the first place!) and feeling a huge flood of guilt every time I saw that couch stain. One of the best days of my life was when we got a new couch and I never had to see that stain again.
All of this caused me to develop anxiety, depression, suicidal thoughts and ideation, self harming behaviors, having out of body experiences where I dissociate, and panic attacks amongst other things. YOU caused ALL of this and you fought tooth and nail to convince me that it was MY fault for being broken. “There’s something going on with you,” and you made it your mission to never take any responsibility for any of the trauma that you caused. Not only did you ignore all signs of abuse and sexually assault me yourself, you bullied and helped a family friend Sharon bully me when I was “being mean” to (her daughter) Faith. I was treated like I was a mentally ill monster who couldn’t be trusted and always got in trouble whenever Faith shed a single tear because I was “mean to her”. Faith cried at LEAST 15x a day, and I was blamed every time she decided to say I was the reason. You allowed a monster (Sharon) to ABUSE me and had the incredibly wise idea to start passing along what shit talking you two would say about me TO ME, a 13 year old girl. I was THIRTEEN. I was A CHILD. And yet, you came crying and complaining to me about how tired you were of hearing Sharon say I was being mean to her daughter when you could have TOLD THE OTHER ADULT IN THE SITUATION TO STOP. It never was my responsibility as a child to try and make another adult stop abusing me by “behaving better.” There was nothing wrong with how I was behaving. You never once tried to help me, you always blamed anybody and everybody else for your failures. I would come and ask you for help when I was struggling and if you didn’t care, you would pawn it off to somebody else- “go talk to your older sister” “talk to your therapist about that” “I don’t know what to say except to tell you to pray about it” and when I came back saying praying didn’t magically fix my depression, you told me to pray harder. I guess you really thought it was a skill issue rather than a diagnosable health condition! No wonder I wanted to die! Hahaha! I’ll never forget the look of disgust on your face when I was sobbing hysterically and struggling to get out the words when I told you just how badly I was affected by Sharon and said how you played a role in helping her harm and abuse me. “WELL. I’m SORRY if you think I didn’t protect you enough. I know what that feels like because my parent’s took my sister’s side a few weeks ago when we were having an argument” (as FULLY GROWN 50+ YEAR OLDS arguing and bitching LIKE CHILDREN!) No, mom, it’s not the same. I was a child and not only did you not stop an abuser from harming me, you joined in. You allowed her access to me and you passed along what horrible things she said was wrong with me. “SHARON said she thinks YOU’RE BIPOLAR. Do you think you are?” “Sharon told me that you’re having AN EPISODE and are being mean to Faith! Show me your phone!” “Well, I just don’t understand why you keep bringing this up when it happened so long ago. I just hope you can forgive her and move on.” You’re fucking disgusting. Should I go into detail about how many times I asked you to not interact with Sharon more than you needed to and you proceeded to try and force her into my life more? You KNEW how uncomfortable I was with you attending Faith’s wedding and yet, you cared more about how you looked and not only attended, but hosted both her wedding and wedding showers. I have always wondered why you never cared how I feel until I realized that you prioritize yourself and how you look to other people above anything and everyone. There is a clear pattern of behavior-
- When I was 17 and you were painting my fingernails and berating me for wanting to visit my friend up in Boston to see a concert together because “you just didn’t understand why I’d want to do that” and I started crying. You rolled your eyes and said “you better leave now if you don’t want my next client to see you crying because her appointment is in a few minutes.” You cared more about having your random client seeing me cry and potentially thinking you’re a bad mom than comforting me.
- When I was 13 and we were saying our nightly prayer the night that I had my “therapy appointment” (aka, you and my “therapist” chastising me for writing in my diary that I was having suicidal thoughts), when you were praying you said “Dear God, please help (my name)… and… pLEASE HELP ME!!!!” Clearly, YOU were affected more than I was even though I was the one wanting to die because of you. Wow. Your life is so hard!
- Telling everyone around you that I “have problems” and am “really struggling” so you can gain an ounce of sympathy. The way that your friends come up and talk to me is baffling. They treat me like I just got home from the psychiatric hospital.
- Laughing about me with my friends in high school when I was out of the room- “hahaha my daughter is sooooo weird hahaha”
- When I was 18 and you called my “therapist” (who did NOT get my consent before doing this and violated her ethical guidelines) after I moved out and stopped talking to you, you got her to help you write a list of “rules” to force me to stay in contact with you. They consisted of requiring me to “talk to you, dad, or my sister at least 1x/day” so you “knew that I was safe” aka, you wanted to control me even though I was an adult and not living in your house. I was perfectly safe, and yet you made me sound like I was doing drug deals in the morning, prostituting myself after lunch, and had plans to commit felonies later that night. I went to school, ate, and went back to my apartment. You had no right manipulating me into talking to you by using my therapist, dad, and sister against me. Pathetic.
- Telling me to go do my runs on a strange man’s property instead of the road because it’s “safer.” Dad said that this man who I’VE NEVER MET told him that “there are bad people out there who will kidnap her and do horrible things to her, SO INSTEAD she should run on MY property!” Not sketchy or rapey at all, right? And completely dismissing me when I said that made me uncomfortable by saying “my dad knows him”? Lady, do you know any rape statistics? Clearly not, because you’d then know that only 7% of assaults are strangers while 93% are family members or acquaintances. NINETY THREE PERCENT. The amount of times that I’ve mentioned someone made me uncomfortable or had a massive affect on me as a child and you’ve replied with “Oh, well did they touch you?” People don’t have to touch me to traumatize me. You’re pathetic for thinking that.
Do you want to know what my sister said when I told her all of this? She apologized to me for not being 15 years older than I am so she could have raised me instead. I want you to sit here and think about how fucked up that is. My own sister wishes she could have taken me away from you so you couldn’t have abused me. I imagine the pressure she must have felt having to grow up while also raising her mother and sister and I sob for her. I’ve sobbed for me for the mental anguish and torture I experienced at your hands. I’ve even sobbed for you because I can’t imagine being even a fraction of how fucked up you are to resort to abusing and neglecting your child- a child you begged to have. A child you had trouble having and prayed for. Embarrassing.
I’m never going to have a relationship with you again. If God is willing, I will never have to interact with you ever again. Saying that phrase “if God is willing” is ironic because you forcing me to pray my problems away rather than helping me led me to not believe in him. How can I believe in something that also neglected me? I’d sit in my dark bedroom night after night praying and sobbing for him to help me. I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I felt broken and alone. I now know that I was a child praying for God to take away my PTSD, and that is not possible. My heart breaks for that child.
You’re a pathetic excuse for a mother and human being. I’m truly shocked that I survived you and your abuse. I’m surprised that I didn’t ever try to kill myself to try and get away from you because you’re a vulture that prays on innocent people. The only important people in your life are people you think will give you something or will make you look good. That’s why you refused to ever cut ties with Sharon, you knew she was sexually abused as a child and you couldn’t POSSIBLY NOT be her friend because you need her to be your “friend,” or rather, your token sexually abused as a child friend. I genuinely hope that you get better and become a normal healthy person but I won’t ever be around to see it. I hope you feel even a fraction of the pain and abandonment that I have felt my entire life. Happy Mother’s Day, but today isn’t Mother’s Day for me, it’s Daughter’s Day. Moving far away from you one month ago has truly saved my life. Instead of trying to survive, I am enjoying my life. I would have died in that house. I get to finally celebrate being away from you and celebrate myself for staying strong and fighting when I could have easily given up. You once told me “you feel like I HATE you!” to guilt me into fawning over you and telling you how much I loved you, but now you get the opposite. I DO hate you and hate how you have permanently changed me and I wish to never see you again. Instead of praying for the “God forsaken, atheist, lost, evil, liar, miserable, spiteful, hateful, disgusting, mentally ill, “autistic” daughter, pray for yourself. Pray for God’s forgiveness for emotionally, medically, physically, sexually, and religiously abusing and neglecting me. You deserve to remain in your "clueless" state of "having NO IDEA what you did wrong to make her stop talking to me!" for the rest of your life.Happy Daughter’s Day.
2024.05.20 04:02 mysticalcritter My best friend got back with her ex and won't speak to me
About 2 weeks ago my best friend and housemate got back with her ex boyfriend after 5 months of being broken up. I found out through bumping into the two of them crying outside my bedroom and him not leaving until the following morning. I asked my friend if everything was okay and her last words were basically "don't worry, I'm okay. I love you and I'll tell you everything tomorrow." The following day I heard nothing, just saw them walking down the street arm in arm. After a couple of days of radio silence (not including me hearing the two of them around the house since we live together) she reached out asking to speak to me to explain her situation. I told her I'll be home from work at 6pm and that she'll have an hour to speak to me because I had plans later in the evening. I got home at 6:08 and messaged her immediately to let her know I'm home. I didn't get a response until 7:30 when she messaged me apologizing saying she fell asleep after she laid down on her bed because she was nervous to speak to me and that she would never do it intentionally. I had heard that excuse before when she missed my birthday earlier this year to go to a gig. I was firm and told her I'm busy, feeling stupid after shifting my evening plans around to give her an opportunity to speak to me, just to sit in my room for over an hour waiting for her to respond.
Her return to her ex is a huge shock to me and I never saw it coming. It seemed to me that she understood how toxic the relationship was, it ending with her cheating on him. I initially met her when they were dating the first time around, and quickly learnt that he wasn't a good person or a good partner (misogynistic and controlling). I did my absolute best to support her, and she never failed to tell me that she trusts me and loves me like a sister. I think because I'm a few years older than her and we got close really quickly, I felt protective of her. In hindsight I probably should've set more boundaries.
There have been multiple times over the past 6 months where her life choices and behaviours have worried me, predominantly pertaining to drug use, eating disorders, and selfish behaviours. I recall at least two instances where I've tried to set boundaries and explain to her that I may have to take a step back from the friendship because her behaviours are triggering to me, and whilst she is an adult and will make her own decisions, I need to protect my sanity and not be so involved and available in her life if she doesn't think her behaviours are an issue. All of these instances were followed by her promising she loves me and appreciates me so much and that she's going to change. After the birthday incident she left a bag of gifts outside my bedroom door with a handwritten letter telling me how much she loves me. I cried and forgave her.
Because of all of this, I'm hurting so much more. I don't understand how she can tell me she loves me one day and then the next act like I don't exist and never mattered to her. She's taken me off her "close friends" list on Instagram, and any communication we've had since has been limited to brief texts about bills and household chores. She won't even look at me when I pass her in the kitchen. She's become even more disrespectful about keeping the house clean, promising she'll tidy up in the groupchat but then not doing it and ignoring my messages. I feel like she's being deliberately spiteful; yesterday I woke up to dog poop smeared outside my bedroom where she must've wiped her shoe on the carpet and left it overnight for whatever reason.
I've been in touch with one of her other friends whom she's close with, and he said she's been avoiding any conversation about her boyfriend with him also. I understand that she might be embarrassed to open up to me about it because she knows how poorly I think of the guy, but I don't understand her acting like she's angry with me or like I've done something wrong. Doesn't she understand how much this is hurting me? We've already signed our contracts to live here for another year and the tension in the house is killing me.
submitted by mysticalcritter to ToxicFriends [link] [comments]
Her return to her ex is a huge shock to me and I never saw it coming. It seemed to me that she understood how toxic the relationship was, it ending with her cheating on him. I initially met her when they were dating the first time around, and quickly learnt that he wasn't a good person or a good partner (misogynistic and controlling). I did my absolute best to support her, and she never failed to tell me that she trusts me and loves me like a sister. I think because I'm a few years older than her and we got close really quickly, I felt protective of her. In hindsight I probably should've set more boundaries.
There have been multiple times over the past 6 months where her life choices and behaviours have worried me, predominantly pertaining to drug use, eating disorders, and selfish behaviours. I recall at least two instances where I've tried to set boundaries and explain to her that I may have to take a step back from the friendship because her behaviours are triggering to me, and whilst she is an adult and will make her own decisions, I need to protect my sanity and not be so involved and available in her life if she doesn't think her behaviours are an issue. All of these instances were followed by her promising she loves me and appreciates me so much and that she's going to change. After the birthday incident she left a bag of gifts outside my bedroom door with a handwritten letter telling me how much she loves me. I cried and forgave her.
Because of all of this, I'm hurting so much more. I don't understand how she can tell me she loves me one day and then the next act like I don't exist and never mattered to her. She's taken me off her "close friends" list on Instagram, and any communication we've had since has been limited to brief texts about bills and household chores. She won't even look at me when I pass her in the kitchen. She's become even more disrespectful about keeping the house clean, promising she'll tidy up in the groupchat but then not doing it and ignoring my messages. I feel like she's being deliberately spiteful; yesterday I woke up to dog poop smeared outside my bedroom where she must've wiped her shoe on the carpet and left it overnight for whatever reason.
I've been in touch with one of her other friends whom she's close with, and he said she's been avoiding any conversation about her boyfriend with him also. I understand that she might be embarrassed to open up to me about it because she knows how poorly I think of the guy, but I don't understand her acting like she's angry with me or like I've done something wrong. Doesn't she understand how much this is hurting me? We've already signed our contracts to live here for another year and the tension in the house is killing me.
2024.05.20 04:02 Mania_Love New Perks Added To My "Good & Liked" Perk List [Thank you for the suggestions everyone]
The Boys - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1iAmuSv8zeemGE-E4YZpBk9E3P5ZTiWc7/view [Suggestion from Dragon-King-of-Death (Thank You)]]
Narnia - https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1qb0_OLhDrDZ1lIUlBqa3A4azA/view?usp=sharing&resourcekey=0-0B2v1IAAqocxpzk1r88_-A [Suggestion From Dragon-King-of-Death (Thank You)]
Mark Antony - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1xqV1SMWGoBxdZwsSkSRODHkScyMaeFHpfK1Hcp3-wAo/edit [Suggestion From Sundarapandiyan1 (Thank You)]
Generic Fantasy Otome Academy - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QisYlMEsDgAVYJxyQGW21Tk_YEDCCcTm/view?usp=sharing
submitted by Mania_Love to JumpChain [link] [comments]
- {Lovable Dork (200cp)}: For some reason people will find you lovable and easily trust you. For example, a person who just met you on a park bench a few days ago will trust you enough to tell you about their deepest insecurities and issues.
- {Chosen By God (400cp)}: •Vought International spouts nonsense about their heroes being Chosen by God. Unlike them, you might actually be Chosen by God. You’ve (probably) never met him, but with the rate that you have fortuitous encounters, you’re pretty sure that someone is looking out for you. You’ll meet important people and find it easy to obtain important items. And if you have powers, they are not the by-product of Compound V. This perk also acts as a Capstone Booster.
- {Super PR (600cp)}: The hardest part of being a hero is not the villains, it’s the public. But don’t worry, thanks to this perk it’s no longer a problem for you. Most people will see you as a heroic figure and an inspiration. This public image of you won’t deteriorate unless there is irrefutable proof of your shortcomings or crimes. You can tone this down if you want to. Supes who have purchased this perk can choose to replace the Deep in the Seven. (Chosen By God): Your public image recovers very quickly even when there is irrefutable proof of your shortcomings or crimes. People quickly forget about scandals and even truly heinous actions will eventually be dismissed as a 'phase' you were going through.
- Friend Maker - You’re a nice guy, Jumper. Whatever else people take away from meeting you, this is something just about everyone who has so much as exchanged a few words with you agrees on. You’re polite, somehow make time for everyone, and have an easy smile. Getting people to like you and let you join their social groups and clubs is a matter of trivial effort, staying in any groups you’re already part of is easier still. Even your worst detractors will have to dig very deep to find bad things to say about you.
- Legendary Healer - You are a good person, Jumper. And this reflects in your magic. You are a healer without peer, being a master at all aspects of it. From potioneering, to tricks of transfiguration, whatever it takes to heal another person is something you are an expert at already. But a talent for healing is well and good. However, there are gifts and abilities of any and all types in the world. Necromancy, Parsel-Magic, Blood Magic, etc. While several are benign and helpful, a lot of them seem like they can only ever be used for evil. Not by you, though. You have the ability to use any and all gifts and powers you have for good and benign purposes. Blood magic can be used as a healing tool, powers that can rip the land asunder can be used to divert floods and prevent earthquakes, an ability to eat souls can be used to instead remove any curses or maladies lain on a soul, and so on. You have the unique ability to share this ability with others, allowing good people born with “bad powers” to use their powers for good pursuits without issue.
- Heart of Gold - It’s a curious thing you do, alternating between horrific evil and lighthearted whimsy as you are. One day you might be bathing in the blood of a thousand innocents, the other day you might be saving orphans from a fire. What this means for you is that no amount of foul and/or corruptive influence, magical or not, can actually hold a hope of corrupting or subverting you, always sliding off like so much dreck. Unless, that is, you want to be evil for some reason. Additionally enemies you have will be highly likely to think that you could be “redeemed” (either for good or evil, it works both ways!) and therefore will probably try to capture you first and are unlikely to try to kill you outright unless you’ve proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that you won’t join them. Finally you possess both an incredibly sinister villain laugh and a hearty “good guy” laugh as well, and can chew the scenery and be as hammy as you want while still being taken completely seriously instead of being seen as a lame try-hard.
- I will never love you...
Narnia - https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B1qb0_OLhDrDZ1lIUlBqa3A4azA/view?usp=sharing&resourcekey=0-0B2v1IAAqocxpzk1r88_-A [Suggestion From Dragon-King-of-Death (Thank You)]
- Heart of a Child [400], Discount Drop-In
Mark Antony - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1xqV1SMWGoBxdZwsSkSRODHkScyMaeFHpfK1Hcp3-wAo/edit [Suggestion From Sundarapandiyan1 (Thank You)]
- Sins of the father: Your predecessors' mistakes don't influence people's opinion about you. Your actions influence people's opinion about you.
- Leader of men: You're a great leader, charismatic and kind, able to bring hundreds of people together as a single force.
- Rocky Road (400 CP): There are some who like to remain broken, some who are forced to remain broken, some who have no idea they are broken and some who are there to fix the broken. Some who are there to give a warm smile and a comforting presence free of judgement, who are patient and kind, who can see the baggage of others and the ways to help not because of manipulation or gain but simply because they wish to help, people who can see the ways of helping others forget their problems and become themselves again, who can heal decade long wounds and mental scars like it’s nothing.
- Near Identity Key (400 CP): Not a very good name I admit but when the only thing limiting you from becoming an entirely new person is your face I can’t think of a name quite so close to the truth. I mean what can you call someone who can don an entire persona and throw them away when done, who can craft emotions and subconscious tells, subtle nuances like one would craft with leggo’s, who can change their accent, the depths of their voice, their stride like one would change their clothes. One who can become anyone.
- Good Deeds (200 CP)
- Lovable Character (600 CP)
Generic Fantasy Otome Academy - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1QisYlMEsDgAVYJxyQGW21Tk_YEDCCcTm/view?usp=sharing
- Confide in Me (400cp)
- Not So Helpless Ingenue (400cp)
2024.05.20 04:01 INEEDTONSOFADVICE How much time to reapply after being medically withdrawn?
Hi,
Context 1, Early June
I was medically withdrawn from school (selective, large university) in September of 2022. It started, in early June of that year, with me having my first cold when I travelled for a weekend event, in three or four years, and the cold was so bad, I was so confused and tired I almost boarded the wrong flight home (like I walked down the bridge and almost entered the wrong plane to God knows where, until I turned around and a flight attended had to give me like a very kind pep talk).
It started with a strep throat during that weekend, then I began to cough so hard I felt dizzy, and I didn't stop coughing until December of that year. It was the worst cold I've had in my life, and I think it was made worse by the additional focus on hygiene during COVID (face masks etc.), which might have weakened my imune system. It was my first time going out without wearing a mask, and I happened to catch a cold.
Context 2, Late June/July
When I returned, I was alone in my off campus apartment, my body would itch (and this didn't make sense because there aren't any insects like mosquitos or I guess even ants in this area since it's so arid), I would sweat when I slept in my air conditioned room, I would have to walk a mile from my off campus apartment in the Arizona like heat and climate of July and August while having a cold. When I entered my over-cooled central AC apartment (I would have to leave windows and doors open to make it warmer) from the 95+ degree weather (I'm from a cold area of the country, but I grew up in several continents, and I'd never experienced this much heat), my stomach would begin to hurt from the instant change in temperature. I had to do really important work stuff that I couldn't miss, so I took different medications which caused my chest to hurt. I didn't want to go to the hospital because I was on the opposite side of the country, and I didn't know what would happen since I'm completely unfamiliar with how medical things are handled, and I had never stayed overnight in a hospital before, and I knew what I'm experiencing would probably warrant an extended stay.
Context 3, July/August
I then stopped eating, sleeping, and drinking water. Someone began spam texting me implicitly illicit texts (I would block the number, but another one would appear from another number, so like a dozen different numbers, and the texts weren't like a bot or automated, it would include photos and mention things I did recently e.g. go to the bar, it didn't ask for money or to download an app, it felt like someone I could have met or known irl was harassing me, perhaps as just a joke), and I barely give my number out and change it around once a year, so I was just so upset someone I knew gave my number to someone, or is doing this. Because of the delirium from the cold, I the began to send like weird (but not in any way, threatening or harassing, texts to mostly my friends who also attended the school) to figure out who gave my number or was behind the harassing texts. I had also experienced another issue with on campus, irl, harassment from a previous roommate that I had to report to campus safety multiple times, and I guess perhaps just because of the delirium, considering the digital harassment, I had become super persistent about my physical harassment that occurred just the semester before, and then an academic dean seriously offered to help, but then this led to a meeting with several deans. A day after this meeting, I emailed one of the deans to say that I am crying, and I was emailed at 8am to do a pysch evaluation at 11am in the morning. Because I hadn't slept the night before, and I had a feeling this would be a consequential meeting, in addition to having to walk 1 mile in the afternoon heat to this meeting, I asked to reschedule and then I was told no. Then I was sent a Maxient involuntary medical withdrawal letter.
Context 4, Now
I've been to about half a dozen pysch doctors (even one that's a lecturer at a leading medical research university), and about four therapists, since, and I haven't been diagnosed with anything definitively. My current therapist, who is a former (or current) professor in psychology, and I've met with since late November of 2023, still doesn't have a diagnoses. I present extremely well, and I'm usually more social and normal than most people (as in, whenever I do any internship or research program, I'm usually assigned management mentors, or tracked towards management as opposed to the actual job, since I just seem so social/"normal"), so I guess you would have to look really deep to find something. I know that I probably have a sleep issue, so after meeting with a sleep doctor, I'm trying to setup a sleep study. In the meantime, I've been prescribed medication to combat day time sleepiness. Other related medical issues include the fact that my dad has Cushing syndrome, and I'm pretty confident I have it, or at least a cortisol issue (I have the visible/physical signs, as well as persistent high blood pressure, and other symptoms). Then, I also have several skin issues, that I'm also treating as well. I'm also getting ready to get evaluated for an anxiety issue which multiple doctors think I have.
To be extremely honest, I'm kind of grateful I experienced this because I understand my body more, and how to seek help when my body is overwhelmed. Also, I kind of knew there would be an job crisis issue in April of 2022 since interest rates were rising and it would lead to less investments, therefore less jobs, so I've kind of enjoyed using this time to relax, travel, and learn new things. However, I'm starting to become anxious that I won't be able to return at all.
Question
Which leads to the question and title of my post, do time limits on withdrawals or leaves of absence apply to medical withdrawals or leaves of absence? My grades are pretty good, and I have no disciplinary issues, so I can still transfer, but I would still like to get back in, to be extremely frank, I would like to get back in first before transferring (just to tie up some loose ends to make a stronger transfer application). The way the communication (emails) from the schools non academic deans are worded, it's being made to seem as if I can't return at all (unless I reapply through admissions/the common app) regardless of if a doctor clears me. The way the letter is worded, it seems like I need to be cleared by a medical professional. My advisor, whose a non-educational lawyer, said I would only be approved to return if I take medication for 6-12 months. An email with a non-academic dean said this as well.
Side note
The most upsetting thing about this whole experience has been attempting to communicate this to people early on, who I usually wouldn't go to with issues, but my close advisors aren't familiar with academia and medical issues, so I've been forced to, and getting told I should leave the school or just college entirely because I have some severe psychiatric issue, that no doctor or therapist I've met thinks I have. It's I think part of what caused me to take so long, until I began speaking with my current therapist whose helped me kind of recount what happened. I feel like, it's very easy in similar situations to mine, to be directed towards potentially a wrong and inapt direction and I think the stem of this is the stigma around mental health.
submitted by INEEDTONSOFADVICE to AskAcademia [link] [comments]
Context 1, Early June
I was medically withdrawn from school (selective, large university) in September of 2022. It started, in early June of that year, with me having my first cold when I travelled for a weekend event, in three or four years, and the cold was so bad, I was so confused and tired I almost boarded the wrong flight home (like I walked down the bridge and almost entered the wrong plane to God knows where, until I turned around and a flight attended had to give me like a very kind pep talk).
It started with a strep throat during that weekend, then I began to cough so hard I felt dizzy, and I didn't stop coughing until December of that year. It was the worst cold I've had in my life, and I think it was made worse by the additional focus on hygiene during COVID (face masks etc.), which might have weakened my imune system. It was my first time going out without wearing a mask, and I happened to catch a cold.
Context 2, Late June/July
When I returned, I was alone in my off campus apartment, my body would itch (and this didn't make sense because there aren't any insects like mosquitos or I guess even ants in this area since it's so arid), I would sweat when I slept in my air conditioned room, I would have to walk a mile from my off campus apartment in the Arizona like heat and climate of July and August while having a cold. When I entered my over-cooled central AC apartment (I would have to leave windows and doors open to make it warmer) from the 95+ degree weather (I'm from a cold area of the country, but I grew up in several continents, and I'd never experienced this much heat), my stomach would begin to hurt from the instant change in temperature. I had to do really important work stuff that I couldn't miss, so I took different medications which caused my chest to hurt. I didn't want to go to the hospital because I was on the opposite side of the country, and I didn't know what would happen since I'm completely unfamiliar with how medical things are handled, and I had never stayed overnight in a hospital before, and I knew what I'm experiencing would probably warrant an extended stay.
Context 3, July/August
I then stopped eating, sleeping, and drinking water. Someone began spam texting me implicitly illicit texts (I would block the number, but another one would appear from another number, so like a dozen different numbers, and the texts weren't like a bot or automated, it would include photos and mention things I did recently e.g. go to the bar, it didn't ask for money or to download an app, it felt like someone I could have met or known irl was harassing me, perhaps as just a joke), and I barely give my number out and change it around once a year, so I was just so upset someone I knew gave my number to someone, or is doing this. Because of the delirium from the cold, I the began to send like weird (but not in any way, threatening or harassing, texts to mostly my friends who also attended the school) to figure out who gave my number or was behind the harassing texts. I had also experienced another issue with on campus, irl, harassment from a previous roommate that I had to report to campus safety multiple times, and I guess perhaps just because of the delirium, considering the digital harassment, I had become super persistent about my physical harassment that occurred just the semester before, and then an academic dean seriously offered to help, but then this led to a meeting with several deans. A day after this meeting, I emailed one of the deans to say that I am crying, and I was emailed at 8am to do a pysch evaluation at 11am in the morning. Because I hadn't slept the night before, and I had a feeling this would be a consequential meeting, in addition to having to walk 1 mile in the afternoon heat to this meeting, I asked to reschedule and then I was told no. Then I was sent a Maxient involuntary medical withdrawal letter.
Context 4, Now
I've been to about half a dozen pysch doctors (even one that's a lecturer at a leading medical research university), and about four therapists, since, and I haven't been diagnosed with anything definitively. My current therapist, who is a former (or current) professor in psychology, and I've met with since late November of 2023, still doesn't have a diagnoses. I present extremely well, and I'm usually more social and normal than most people (as in, whenever I do any internship or research program, I'm usually assigned management mentors, or tracked towards management as opposed to the actual job, since I just seem so social/"normal"), so I guess you would have to look really deep to find something. I know that I probably have a sleep issue, so after meeting with a sleep doctor, I'm trying to setup a sleep study. In the meantime, I've been prescribed medication to combat day time sleepiness. Other related medical issues include the fact that my dad has Cushing syndrome, and I'm pretty confident I have it, or at least a cortisol issue (I have the visible/physical signs, as well as persistent high blood pressure, and other symptoms). Then, I also have several skin issues, that I'm also treating as well. I'm also getting ready to get evaluated for an anxiety issue which multiple doctors think I have.
To be extremely honest, I'm kind of grateful I experienced this because I understand my body more, and how to seek help when my body is overwhelmed. Also, I kind of knew there would be an job crisis issue in April of 2022 since interest rates were rising and it would lead to less investments, therefore less jobs, so I've kind of enjoyed using this time to relax, travel, and learn new things. However, I'm starting to become anxious that I won't be able to return at all.
Question
Which leads to the question and title of my post, do time limits on withdrawals or leaves of absence apply to medical withdrawals or leaves of absence? My grades are pretty good, and I have no disciplinary issues, so I can still transfer, but I would still like to get back in, to be extremely frank, I would like to get back in first before transferring (just to tie up some loose ends to make a stronger transfer application). The way the communication (emails) from the schools non academic deans are worded, it's being made to seem as if I can't return at all (unless I reapply through admissions/the common app) regardless of if a doctor clears me. The way the letter is worded, it seems like I need to be cleared by a medical professional. My advisor, whose a non-educational lawyer, said I would only be approved to return if I take medication for 6-12 months. An email with a non-academic dean said this as well.
Side note
The most upsetting thing about this whole experience has been attempting to communicate this to people early on, who I usually wouldn't go to with issues, but my close advisors aren't familiar with academia and medical issues, so I've been forced to, and getting told I should leave the school or just college entirely because I have some severe psychiatric issue, that no doctor or therapist I've met thinks I have. It's I think part of what caused me to take so long, until I began speaking with my current therapist whose helped me kind of recount what happened. I feel like, it's very easy in similar situations to mine, to be directed towards potentially a wrong and inapt direction and I think the stem of this is the stigma around mental health.
2024.05.20 04:00 mysticalcritter My best friend got back with her ex and refuses to speak to me
About 2 weeks ago my best friend and housemate got back with her ex boyfriend after 5 months of being broken up. I found out through bumping into the two of them crying outside my bedroom and him not leaving until the following morning. I asked my friend if everything was okay and her last words were basically "don't worry, I'm okay. I love you and I'll tell you everything tomorrow." The following day I heard nothing, just saw them walking down the street arm in arm. After a couple of days of radio silence (not including me hearing the two of them around the house since we live together) she reached out asking to speak to me to explain her situation. I told her I'll be home from work at 6pm and that she'll have an hour to speak to me because I had plans later in the evening. I got home at 6:08 and messaged her immediately to let her know I'm home. I didn't get a response until 7:30 when she messaged me apologizing saying she fell asleep after she laid down on her bed because she was nervous to speak to me and that she would never do it intentionally. I had heard that excuse before when she missed my birthday earlier this year to go to a gig. I was firm and told her I'm busy, feeling stupid after shifting my evening plans around to give her an opportunity to speak to me, just to sit in my room for over an hour waiting for her to respond.
Her return to her ex is a huge shock to me and I never saw it coming. It seemed to me that she understood how toxic the relationship was, it ending with her cheating on him. I initially met her when they were dating the first time around, and quickly learnt that he wasn't a good person or a good partner (misogynistic and controlling). I did my absolute best to support her, and she never failed to tell me that she trusts me and loves me like a sister. I think because I'm a few years older than her and we got close really quickly, I felt protective of her. In hindsight I probably should've set more boundaries.
There have been multiple times over the past 6 months where her life choices and behaviours have worried me, predominantly pertaining to drug use, eating disorders, and selfish behaviours. I recall at least two instances where I've tried to set boundaries and explain to her that I may have to take a step back from the friendship because her behaviours are triggering to me, and whilst she is an adult and will make her own decisions, I need to protect my sanity and not be so involved and available in her life if she doesn't think her behaviours are an issue. All of these instances were followed by her promising she loves me and appreciates me so much and that she's going to change. After the birthday incident she left a bag of gifts outside my bedroom door with a handwritten letter telling me how much she loves me. I cried and forgave her.
Because of all of this, I'm hurting so much more. I don't understand how she can tell me she loves me one day and then the next act like I don't exist and never mattered to her. She's taken me off her "close friends" list on Instagram, and any communication we've had since has been limited to brief texts about bills and household chores. She won't even look at me when I pass her in the kitchen. She's become even more disrespectful about keeping the house clean, promising she'll tidy up in the groupchat but then not doing it and ignoring my messages. I feel like she's being deliberately spiteful; yesterday I woke up to dog poop smeared outside my bedroom where she must've wiped her shoe on the carpet and left it overnight for whatever reason.
I've been in touch with one of her other friends whom she's close with, and he said she's been avoiding any conversation about her boyfriend with him also. I understand that she might be embarrassed to open up to me about it because she knows how poorly I think of the guy, but I don't understand her acting like she's angry with me or like I've done something wrong. Doesn't she understand how much this is hurting me? We've already signed our contracts to live here for another year and the tension in the house is killing me.
submitted by mysticalcritter to FriendshipAdvice [link] [comments]
Her return to her ex is a huge shock to me and I never saw it coming. It seemed to me that she understood how toxic the relationship was, it ending with her cheating on him. I initially met her when they were dating the first time around, and quickly learnt that he wasn't a good person or a good partner (misogynistic and controlling). I did my absolute best to support her, and she never failed to tell me that she trusts me and loves me like a sister. I think because I'm a few years older than her and we got close really quickly, I felt protective of her. In hindsight I probably should've set more boundaries.
There have been multiple times over the past 6 months where her life choices and behaviours have worried me, predominantly pertaining to drug use, eating disorders, and selfish behaviours. I recall at least two instances where I've tried to set boundaries and explain to her that I may have to take a step back from the friendship because her behaviours are triggering to me, and whilst she is an adult and will make her own decisions, I need to protect my sanity and not be so involved and available in her life if she doesn't think her behaviours are an issue. All of these instances were followed by her promising she loves me and appreciates me so much and that she's going to change. After the birthday incident she left a bag of gifts outside my bedroom door with a handwritten letter telling me how much she loves me. I cried and forgave her.
Because of all of this, I'm hurting so much more. I don't understand how she can tell me she loves me one day and then the next act like I don't exist and never mattered to her. She's taken me off her "close friends" list on Instagram, and any communication we've had since has been limited to brief texts about bills and household chores. She won't even look at me when I pass her in the kitchen. She's become even more disrespectful about keeping the house clean, promising she'll tidy up in the groupchat but then not doing it and ignoring my messages. I feel like she's being deliberately spiteful; yesterday I woke up to dog poop smeared outside my bedroom where she must've wiped her shoe on the carpet and left it overnight for whatever reason.
I've been in touch with one of her other friends whom she's close with, and he said she's been avoiding any conversation about her boyfriend with him also. I understand that she might be embarrassed to open up to me about it because she knows how poorly I think of the guy, but I don't understand her acting like she's angry with me or like I've done something wrong. Doesn't she understand how much this is hurting me? We've already signed our contracts to live here for another year and the tension in the house is killing me.
2024.05.20 04:00 IdkJustMe123 When people decided to make up a word to describe something, those people who utilized silent letters…..who hurt them?
Known. Echo. Muscle. I could go on. Seriously why????
submitted by IdkJustMe123 to ask [link] [comments]
2024.05.20 04:00 water_drunked After School Lessons for Unripe Apples wins! Day 2 of Webtoon Alphabet, what’s B?
 | Inspired by CheesecakeNo3966’s Musical Alphabet submitted by water_drunked to webtoons [link] [comments] Aim: Create an alphabetic list of most upvoted Webtoons • Vote for your favourite Webtoon STARTING with the letter of the day. • For every letter, I will provide up to 15 examples. Other titles are accepted as long as it follows the letter. • After 24 hours, the SINGLE comment with the MOST upvotes will be the winner! What about titles that start with ‘The’? You take the first letter of the second word. For example, “The Greatest Estate Developer” qualifies for letter G. ⭐️ May the Force B with you. |
2024.05.20 03:46 emilymmahat23 Offer Letter / Background Check Email Timing?
Hello everyone! I just had an interview this past Friday morning at my local Target and on the spot was told I would get an email with an offer letter, a different email for my background check, and that pending everything comes back clear in a timely manner my orientation day would be this coming Saturday. I was wondering if I should be worried that I haven’t received either email yet? Or if anyone knows how long it will be before I’ll get the emails? Should I call the store and ask since I haven’t gotten them yet? Any words of advice would be appreciated. Thanks! 😊
submitted by emilymmahat23 to Target [link] [comments]
2024.05.20 03:43 Business_End_9365 Our Great Uncompromiser Peacock-Shah Alternate Elections
P: And then there's this Schall business. What the hell were those clowns thinking, putting that in Pound's home?
M: We don't know for sure that they did it.
P: Like Hell we don't. (Sigh) We can't well have Luce or Cooper taking the nomination now, can we? (pauses) This is not good, Mike. We can't afford to have this backfire on us.
M: Agreed, Phil. We'll handle it delicately.
P: Christ, yes. We got to get Luce, Cooper, O'Daniel, you know, out on the limb on some of these critical issues. Send mailings out in their convention to confuse everybody, put out some letters about Luce's "affair," things like that. Put those bastards through the wringer.
M: Of course.
P: Let Francois do this. He knows what to do to take care of those bastards. He knows all about the dirty tricks department. Speaking of which, Mike, what do you think of our Great Uncompromiser?
M: Of course, Phil, I have contacted our donors. Believe me, no one can find out the origin of those donations.
P: They better be reliable… don’t let us make the mistake that was made of the Butler thing.
M: Sure, Oh, Phil, a word comes to mind...
P: What?
M: The captured opposition
P: It better be. I don’t want to get complacent.
M: I understand perfectly.
submitted by Business_End_9365 to Presidentialpoll [link] [comments]
M: We don't know for sure that they did it.
P: Like Hell we don't. (Sigh) We can't well have Luce or Cooper taking the nomination now, can we? (pauses) This is not good, Mike. We can't afford to have this backfire on us.
M: Agreed, Phil. We'll handle it delicately.
P: Christ, yes. We got to get Luce, Cooper, O'Daniel, you know, out on the limb on some of these critical issues. Send mailings out in their convention to confuse everybody, put out some letters about Luce's "affair," things like that. Put those bastards through the wringer.
M: Of course.
P: Let Francois do this. He knows what to do to take care of those bastards. He knows all about the dirty tricks department. Speaking of which, Mike, what do you think of our Great Uncompromiser?
M: Of course, Phil, I have contacted our donors. Believe me, no one can find out the origin of those donations.
P: They better be reliable… don’t let us make the mistake that was made of the Butler thing.
M: Sure, Oh, Phil, a word comes to mind...
P: What?
M: The captured opposition
P: It better be. I don’t want to get complacent.
M: I understand perfectly.
2024.05.20 03:19 Reddit_Gabordo I practice medicine at a rural area
My name is Dr. Smith, not my real name of course, but for purposes of storytelling it will have to suffice. I have been practicing medicine at an Asian country as a general practitioner. I'm relatively new and I practice at a small village, not too far from civilization, half a day's travel by car and a few hours by boat from the country's capital, but very rural nonetheless, complete with superstitious beliefs and customs. I decided to stay here when I first graduated and passed the licensure exam for two reasons: first, I have a place to stay here, my family's ancestral home (although none of my direct relatives have lived there for years), said ancestors being one of the first people to settle in the area and second, because my family had always been the physicians in this small community as far as anyone remembers. Me, my grandfather and his father before him all went to the city to study medicine and went back here to practice it, like there was a pull, a calling, to sacrifice the convenient, fast-paced city life for the quiet and serene. My mother hated the idea, as clingy as she is to me, saying things like she wanted me to always be around where she could protect me, but you can't really help it when purpose calls. To be honest, it feels good providing a wide range of services to the honest people of our small, humble town, no greater feeling than helping the less privelaged, educating them and dispelling preconceived notions and old wives tales which are aplenty in my country, especially here.
I still recall how everything began. I made a makeshift clinic at one of the rooms of my ancestral home, it used to be my grandfather's office, but it felt old, antique, and perhaps too... professional, nothing wrong with that, but I wanted my patients to feel a more homely setting. So, I rearranged a bit, removed the imposing self portrait of my great-grandfather wearing his white coat that hang on the wall and transferred it to a more private area of the house. I changed the dim, barely functioning lights into brighter, more modern ones, removed the exceedingly extravagant chandelier and equipped the room with materials and equipment that I deemed necessary for my practice. I retained the wooden floors, but outfitted the walls with charts and more colorful decorations, in anticipation for the occasional pediatric patient. It was beginning to look less like an old abandoned house where teenagers went for the spooks and more like a place of healing and betterment, a clean place offering a clean mind...or so I hope.
"Your grandfather would have a heart attack if he wasn't dead already, seeing what you've done with his old clinic" quipped Martha, our housekeeper. All I know about Martha is that my grandfather hired her as a young teen and she has been here since then, she babysat and raised my mother as her own, and even took care of me as a toddler. Considering her age, she mostly supervises the younger and more capable help rather than doing tasks herself. None of them stay at the house, but they get called upon when me or any of my relatives were expected. Most of the family consider her as one of our own at this point.
"Well i'm sure great grandpa on the other hand enjoys the change of view" I replied jokingly. "Besides, I bet the patients would appreciate not being treated in such a dark, gloomy room."
"You know how your grandfather was..." she replies, that the idea of a dark, gloomy, old man liking dark, gloomy, old places was a no brainer. "...but everything aside, it is so nice to see you again, have you been feeling better? What did your mother think of you staying here?" she said with what I felt as outmost sincerity, "I used to chase and carry you around this estate and now look at you, about to carry out your family's legacy as a physician yourself" she continued, with a hint of pride from her tone.
I smiled. I myself couldn't think of a reason why a well respected man, revered even, by this town and it's people for everything he has done would act nonchalant and depressed, always with a jaded look in his eyes and stay in an equally dim and depressing part of his house, I've always known him to be like that, but was he always?
"I am better now. It's good to see you too, I'm glad you're staying healthy, and mom sure did not like it but well...she told me to say hi on her behalf" I told Martha. She beams up and smiles on my mother's mention.
"Well...I took the liberty of digging up your grandfather's documents, records and his patient charts, I doubt many of them still live but I thought maybe you'd like to have a look, I placed them around your desk but I can relocate them if you want me to"
"No, that's perfect. That's something I actually intended to do, i'll give it a read, thank you" I replied. I know some of those patients were either old or probably dead to be honest, but seeing data as well as the cases my grandfather had to deal with might help me in the future.
"The villagers already know Dr. Smith's grandson is here, they know you're a doctor, so expect to have a patient one of these days, perhaps as soon as you give the word that your clinic is open" Martha said, as she walks out of the room smiling and slightly waving, signalling a goodbye.
"I'm not even surprised" I think to myself. Places like these, words spreads like wildfire on topics like these, the idea of someone from a known family, coming back from the city, not to mention deciding to stay indefinitely, like the whole village needed notification, like the village demands explanation.
Hours passed and as I was satisfied with my new setup for the clinic, I took a break, sitting down and looking at the mountain of paperwork and folders placed on and around my desk. I picked one, thinking to myself that I might as well have a look now, with nothing else of note to do.
Patient #010438 Name redacted 43/Female
History of present illness: Patient had 3 day history of undocumented fever, dysuria, and bilateral flank pain Did not seek consult, no medications taken
Past Medical History Unremarkable
Personal and Social History Unremarkable
OB history illegible
Physical Examination BP 110/80 HR 102 RR 20
Nonhyperemic tonsils No murmurs Clear breath sounds Nontender abdomen (+) Kidney punch test
Noted a signature of the patient claiming she was not pregnant as a form of waiver
"Jesus grandpa, couldn't your history and physical exam get any lazier?" I thought to myself. Seeing pertinent history not asked and multiple organ systems ignored on physical examination. Given, some of the writing were already faded, the quality of the paper had deteriorated greatly, and plenty of details already illegible, all in all the documents weren't that bad. It sure doesn't help though that he writes like someone in the middle of a warzone practicing heiroglyphs.
I skimmed through more of the documents and patient files, most of the cases are relatively benign, majority are outpatient visits, some are emergency cases and there are the rare ones requiring transfer to a more developed town hours from here with better services and equipment. Time passed and as I lay down the last folder in a pile, I noticed a moderately sized box, probably the size of a briefcase, placed on the floor, dusty but obviously ornate. It piqued my interest although in my mind, I was pretty sure it was nothing but more documents, I decided to give it a look.
I picked a stack up and I started to read:
Patient #00512c Name redacted 32/Female
"Weird" I thought, it was numbered differently, and definitely none of the other documents were lettered. I continued reading:
History of present illness: This is a case of a 32 year old female who came in on date redacted due to a chief complaint of multiple hematomas, abrasions, burn wounds and lacerations on her face, trunk and extremeties..."
"Trauma? An accident? Possible abuse?" I contemplated.
"...patient allegedly noticed easy bruisability 2 weeks prior to consult, followed by alleged spontaneous appearance of abrasions and lacerations 2-3 days from onset of bruising, supposedly waking the patient at night due to the sudden sharp and searing pain, initially small cuts 3-5cm widest on her extremeties and face but eventually progressing to deep cuts measuring approximately 10-50cm on her back, chest, abdomen and lower extremeties. 1 week prior to consult, patient started noticing burning sensations on her skin, causing extreme pain and leaving reddish burn marks on her body, patient also experienced lack of appetite and inability to sleep due to loud voices and..."
"Spontaneous appearance? Easy bruising could be a lot of things, but for it to occur with 'spontaneous' abrasions and lacerations? Not to mention burn marks?" I thought out loud, having doubts about the credibility of the use of the word "spontaneous". Surely it was not an accident, considering it started 2 weeks ago with noted progression. "It could be a hematologic problem with the bruising, but that wouldn't explain the sudden appearance of cuts...maybe accompanied by a dermatologic one, the patient is prone to breaks in the skin? But then again the burn marks...the voices..." I analyzed. I was leaning towards abuse, where the cuts and bruises were inflicted by someone else and the abused, whether in some form of fear or coping, decides that it was "spontaneous" rather than inflicted, but why bother lying to yourself, perhaps the one who did it to her is a partner? Or a loved one? It made sense, someone progressively becoming more aggressive with her as time went by, becoming more and more extreme, from bruises to eventually burning.
It could a combination of illnesses to be honest, one on top of another, perhaps an overly sensitive or extremely dry skin that breaks and peels until it bleeds, an allergic reaction prompting the patient to unconciously scratch till her skin became red and lichenified, voices due to lack of sleep or a mental disorder. But looking at my grandfather's physical examination of her, none of the findings solidifies the possibility of those i've mentioned. Truth be told I also partially allowed myself to tunnel vision on the prospect of an abuse, to the point I've skipped some of the chart's contents that I deemed weren't important and tried to look for information to support my claim, or perhaps to disprove it, rookie mistake, but well, I am a rookie then.
"Patient is widowed, lives alone at a secluded area near redacted, only goes out to buy some necessities from redacted but has very minimal interaction from anyone in the village"
Okay then, either she is hiding the fact someone was with her, who is abusing her like I initially thought of, or it's self harm. "I'm pretty sure grandpa considered everything that went through my mind right now. Let me check his initial impression" I thought, with a tinge of annoyance, considering I felt that the patient lied to my grandfather, and was lying to me, decades after the fact.
"Well...", I thought to myself, "...plenty of things to consider and rule out, let me check what else is there." A bit of cockiness on picking my grandfather's brain out and feeling good about my train of thought, a practice consult and so far, I'm on my way to a perfect score...
I gave the document a stern look, unmoving, unblinking, emotionless. Time has stopped, and I haven't noticed. My brain trying to digest the information, the same way my stomach would probably digest a block of steel...it's just not possible. I read one of my grandfather's diagnosis again:
Then I felt anger. "Grandpa, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" I thought to myself. Here is a woman, full of bruises, cuts and burns all over her body, claiming that she has been suffering for weeks, barely eats or sleeps, was having auditory hallucinations, in dire need of medical, if not emotional and psychological support and one of the things that comes across your mind is possession.
I tried to calm my mind, these are records of the past anyway, I thought. Maybe it was a resignation born out of incompetence. Maybe grandpa wasn't as good of a doctor as I thought he was, that the shortcomings of his knowledge and limited technology of his time prompted him to adopt a more...liberal viewpoint to medicine. Maybe he was just superstitious himself. Maybe the people of this place had leaked some of their local beliefs into his psyche. Maybe isolation changed the man. Or maybe...just maybe...there's something to it.
I've never been one for faith. That goes for my faith in science as well. To just say that something is stupid because it doesn't align with standard, accepted scientific belief is just as detrimental as its counterpart.
I decided to investigate further when I heard the entrance to the room open with force. One of the maids leaning onto the wall by the entrance, still grasping the doorknob and evidently out of breath.
"Sir...ma'am Martha...calling...for you...says...it's...it's...an emergency..." She says in between breaths.
I quickly stood up, feeling sorry for the woman, she just ran, obviously gasping for air as she arrived at the clinic and now has to lead me back to wherever she came from with the same urgency. At first I was worried something might have happened with Martha, what the maid said didn't really give much clarity, but upon arriving at the main hall I noticed Martha, standing beside a middle aged man and woman, carrying a child, no more than 10 years old. I notice the clear panic and worry on both of their eyes as the man held the boy, who was uncontrollably shaking.
"I know you're not taking any patients yet and I was considering the time, but nobody knows what to do so I..." Martha explains, quite concerned while I ordered the parents to put the child flat on the ground, with me assessing the situation. The first thing I noticed was that the child was burning hot, "possibly febrile seizure? No, too old" I thought. I asked both the parents important details while I ordered the other maid to time the duration of the child's seizure. All the while thinking of possible diseases that may present as such, "Seizure disorder? Epilepsy? Meningitis? Encephalitis?" Eventually the shaking stopped, much to the parents' relief, and I ordered them to carry the boy as we made our way back to the clinic.
"Was this the first time it ever happened?" I inquired, as I put the child on one of the beds in the clinic, securing the corners with additional pillows, noticing the sunken face and apparent exhaustion from the boy, possibly due to the ongoing fever and the recent seizure episode. Once secured, I face the parents and continued my inquiries, I eventually explained everything, elaborating on what I believe happened, I explained that for now, lowering the fever and investigating the source were what we could address, the battery of tests I plan to do (disappointingly, most of them cannot be done here, and I would have to accompany them to a hospital on another town as soon as first light breaks), and the medications and management I plan to give. Everything proceeded as planned and I asked both parents to relax and take a breather, offering them a seat and asking the help to give them water.
Things eventually settled, little Johnny's fever subsided and color came back to him. Nowhere near clear, he can worsen anytime, but that was the best that we could do at that time. The parents were still worried, understandably so, but to an extent reassured, we have a plan after all. Martha, as well as Diane (the help from earlier), now at a calmer state. We discussed the plan, how we would travel, who would accompany us and what we would bring. Eventually, our conversations became relaxed, started to shift to other things, trivial matters, such as were they lived in the village, the date and time of my arrival, recent gossip, where Martha was more than happy to share.
"I was worried the evil spirits might have gotten my baby..." Said the mother nonchalantly, as we talked about the occurrence on a lighter note. "...that's how they got Mrs. Johnson's middle child. That poor boy was never the same after."
I smiled. Not wanting to immediately correct them and sound like an uptight individual. It's part of our culture afterall, old belief systems and a way for people to cope with loss or difficulty, who was I to deny them that. I won't approach these people the hardheaded way, but I will slowly show them the realities and truths of the things they may not understand, well, at least with regards to their health.
"Well, little Johnny is safe here, we'll do what we can" pointing to their son.
Only, their son wasn't where he was supposed to be. I look at the parents, I look at both Martha and Diane, everyone who looked at where I pointed were just as shocked as I was, a split second of silence before panic ensued. Suddenly, everyone stood up on high alert and was looking everywhere. Under covers, under the bed, corners of the room, the desk, behind curtains, hell, I saw Diane look at one of the damn drawers, as if a 10 year old would fit there.
Suddenly I heard loud vomiting, retching, followed by sounds of splashing. I follow where the sounds came from and see a large pool of black, tarry liquid at a corner of my room. I slowly trace where it was coming from and there he was...little Johnny...standing...upside down...on the ceiling.
I hear everyone in the room scream, I was probably screaming too, I couldn't remember. I do remember little Johnny screaming with us though, extremely high pitched and mockingly, with bloodshot eyes, upside down, while black liquid poured from his mouth, covering his face and dripping from his hair. How was that even possible, screaming while liters of unknown fluid dripped from his mouth? I don't know.
Then he laughed, although I was pretty sure that wasn't his voice. It was deep and guttural, it cannot be the boy's voice, it cannot be any boy's voice.
Time seemed to move in slow motion, I was noticing every detail, every expression from everyone's face, I can feel the seconds hand on my wall clock move, the slow dripping of the viscous dark liquid from little Johnny, I can feel every drop of sweat on my body. I could not cope with what i'm experiencing, was it a trick of the mind, an organized prank, have I gone mad...again? So I did the only thing I know how to do...
I tried to diagnose.
"Maybe it was dengue shock all along!" I thought to myself. "Vomiting blood, paleness, fever, an episode of seizure and definitely change in sensorium" I reasoned to myself. I was coping, and I was coping hard. I was ready to drown on my self absorbtion when a booming voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"YOU DUMB FUCK, WILL ANY ILLNESS EXPLAIN WHY YOUR FUCKING PATIENT IS HANGING UPSIDE DOWN ON THE FUCKING CEILING?" Said little Johnny, or at least whoever was speaking on his behalf, because from where I'm standing, I can clearly see that the boy was not mouthing any of the words he said.
"YOU'RE A FUCKING FAILURE, DOCTORS LIKE YOU SHOULD KILL THEMSELVES! HAHAHAHA" he laughed, I never knew laughs could sound like that, as if the words were nails, and his voice box a chalkboard.
"OH WAIT, YOU FAILED AT THAT TOO DOC! FUCKING PATHETIC!"
Of all the things that were happening...a young boy hanging upside down, a mother crying on the floor hysterically, a father staring at his son, eyes wide open and mouth agape, Martha and Diane, both crying while sharing a rosary, in the act of what I assume to be prayer...the thing that snapped me out of my trance was the words that came from little Johnny. Knowledge nobody but the closest to me should know. A secret I planned to leave behind when I left the city, a wound I intended to forget as I started anew.
Visions of my memories came flashing back...medical school...overwhelming duty...familial expectations...failure...depression...my attempt...a bottle of medications...my mother...crying...on my bedside...
"LEAVE MY SON ALONE!" Johnny's father screamed. Starling everyone in the room.
Nothing matters, the past is in the past, I am better now, and that boy needs help, more than anything.
"YOUR SON? WHY DON'T WE ASK THAT CRYING WHORE IF JOHNNY REALLY IS YOUR SON" The voice says, laughing.
At that point the mother stops crying, looks up towards johnny, then towards his husband, in a state of shock. Like what the voice said is crazier than whatever was happening at the moment.
"THE ONLY REASON THAT WHORE STUCK WITH YOU WAS BECAUSE JOHNNY'S REAAAAAAAL FATHER WOULD NOT TAKE HER!" The entity says, continuing the hysteric laughter.
We were being played. It was toying with us. And from the look on the mother's face...it seems like little Johnny did not even need to lie to do it.
Then, to everyone's horror..."It" started to run.
It ran across the ceiling in a rabid frenzy, erratic and forceful, running and jumping, hopping sideways then going on all fours, still attached to the ceiling, splashing bile and blood all over the room, all the while making a "hihihi" sound...childish and terrifying. It ran and ran, repeating the same erratic change in movements, repeating the same eerie giggle until it reached the window, stopping and standing straight, it stared outside for what felt like forever...then all of a sudden...johnny just fell, like whatever was attaching him to the ceiling just gave, headfirst into the floor, giving a very audible cracking sound.
I heard a gasp from johnny's mother. I can at least detect some miniscule chest expansion, but that cracking sound cannot be anything good. As if thinking the same thing, Martha, who was the nearest to where Johnny fell, while still clinging tightly to Diane's rosary, approached the boy.
"Johnny?" She said softly, all the while approaching an inch at a time.
As she was almost at arms length of the boy's body, she gives the mother a knowing look, confirming that he was breathing. Martha suddenly produces a piece of cloth from one of the pockets of her uniform, possibly to pack the bleeding from the head. She intended to put the cloth on top of the boy's head, but looked towards my direction, urging me forward, perhaps for me to place it properly. I walk towards the boy, takes the cloth from Martha and as I fold the cloth to circle Johnny's cranium with Martha's help, the boy immediately sat up, looks at Martha and smiles ear to ear...literally ear to ear.
"GET YOUR WRINKLY HANDS OFF ME YOU DUSTY OLD FUCK!" He barks at her, Martha screams in fear and I was taken aback.
That was all the time Johnny needed to stand and jump towards the window, breaking it and running towards the mountainside. I hear his father scream his name, quickly breaking more glass so he could fit, and immediately giving chase. The mother was still on the floor, wailing towards the direction of her child and husband. Martha, in shock, still holding the cloth she intended to wrap johnny with.
It took me a while to notice Diane shaking me vigorously. "Doctor!" She screams. "Doctor Smith! What should we do!?" She voices out, with obvious desperation.
I ignored her.
I feel scared, but taking all into consideration, I predominantly feel tired. Defeated. Insulted.
I have nothing more to give in the face of whatever that thing that took Johnny was.
I slowly walk towards my desk, I open my drawer, I take a piece of paper and I pull out my pen.
Patient #00001a Name redacted 10/M
I write, giving no thoughts to the people on the same room as me, those left behind by little Johnny and his father. "Did he catch up to him? Was the boy alright now?...is his father alright?" I wonder. I'll find out soon enough, I figured, rumors spread like wildfire around here anyways.
I continued to write with resignment, absorbed in my own little world, consumed by the horror I witnessed, the breaking of my spirit, of my beliefs, the questioning of my knowledge. I want to escape it, deny it, but that's not what should be done to the truth. So I surrendered.
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I still recall how everything began. I made a makeshift clinic at one of the rooms of my ancestral home, it used to be my grandfather's office, but it felt old, antique, and perhaps too... professional, nothing wrong with that, but I wanted my patients to feel a more homely setting. So, I rearranged a bit, removed the imposing self portrait of my great-grandfather wearing his white coat that hang on the wall and transferred it to a more private area of the house. I changed the dim, barely functioning lights into brighter, more modern ones, removed the exceedingly extravagant chandelier and equipped the room with materials and equipment that I deemed necessary for my practice. I retained the wooden floors, but outfitted the walls with charts and more colorful decorations, in anticipation for the occasional pediatric patient. It was beginning to look less like an old abandoned house where teenagers went for the spooks and more like a place of healing and betterment, a clean place offering a clean mind...or so I hope.
"Your grandfather would have a heart attack if he wasn't dead already, seeing what you've done with his old clinic" quipped Martha, our housekeeper. All I know about Martha is that my grandfather hired her as a young teen and she has been here since then, she babysat and raised my mother as her own, and even took care of me as a toddler. Considering her age, she mostly supervises the younger and more capable help rather than doing tasks herself. None of them stay at the house, but they get called upon when me or any of my relatives were expected. Most of the family consider her as one of our own at this point.
"Well i'm sure great grandpa on the other hand enjoys the change of view" I replied jokingly. "Besides, I bet the patients would appreciate not being treated in such a dark, gloomy room."
"You know how your grandfather was..." she replies, that the idea of a dark, gloomy, old man liking dark, gloomy, old places was a no brainer. "...but everything aside, it is so nice to see you again, have you been feeling better? What did your mother think of you staying here?" she said with what I felt as outmost sincerity, "I used to chase and carry you around this estate and now look at you, about to carry out your family's legacy as a physician yourself" she continued, with a hint of pride from her tone.
I smiled. I myself couldn't think of a reason why a well respected man, revered even, by this town and it's people for everything he has done would act nonchalant and depressed, always with a jaded look in his eyes and stay in an equally dim and depressing part of his house, I've always known him to be like that, but was he always?
"I am better now. It's good to see you too, I'm glad you're staying healthy, and mom sure did not like it but well...she told me to say hi on her behalf" I told Martha. She beams up and smiles on my mother's mention.
"Well...I took the liberty of digging up your grandfather's documents, records and his patient charts, I doubt many of them still live but I thought maybe you'd like to have a look, I placed them around your desk but I can relocate them if you want me to"
"No, that's perfect. That's something I actually intended to do, i'll give it a read, thank you" I replied. I know some of those patients were either old or probably dead to be honest, but seeing data as well as the cases my grandfather had to deal with might help me in the future.
"The villagers already know Dr. Smith's grandson is here, they know you're a doctor, so expect to have a patient one of these days, perhaps as soon as you give the word that your clinic is open" Martha said, as she walks out of the room smiling and slightly waving, signalling a goodbye.
"I'm not even surprised" I think to myself. Places like these, words spreads like wildfire on topics like these, the idea of someone from a known family, coming back from the city, not to mention deciding to stay indefinitely, like the whole village needed notification, like the village demands explanation.
Hours passed and as I was satisfied with my new setup for the clinic, I took a break, sitting down and looking at the mountain of paperwork and folders placed on and around my desk. I picked one, thinking to myself that I might as well have a look now, with nothing else of note to do.
Patient #010438 Name redacted 43/Female
History of present illness: Patient had 3 day history of undocumented fever, dysuria, and bilateral flank pain Did not seek consult, no medications taken
Past Medical History Unremarkable
Personal and Social History Unremarkable
OB history illegible
Physical Examination BP 110/80 HR 102 RR 20
Nonhyperemic tonsils No murmurs Clear breath sounds Nontender abdomen (+) Kidney punch test
Noted a signature of the patient claiming she was not pregnant as a form of waiver
"Jesus grandpa, couldn't your history and physical exam get any lazier?" I thought to myself. Seeing pertinent history not asked and multiple organ systems ignored on physical examination. Given, some of the writing were already faded, the quality of the paper had deteriorated greatly, and plenty of details already illegible, all in all the documents weren't that bad. It sure doesn't help though that he writes like someone in the middle of a warzone practicing heiroglyphs.
I skimmed through more of the documents and patient files, most of the cases are relatively benign, majority are outpatient visits, some are emergency cases and there are the rare ones requiring transfer to a more developed town hours from here with better services and equipment. Time passed and as I lay down the last folder in a pile, I noticed a moderately sized box, probably the size of a briefcase, placed on the floor, dusty but obviously ornate. It piqued my interest although in my mind, I was pretty sure it was nothing but more documents, I decided to give it a look.
I picked a stack up and I started to read:
Patient #00512c Name redacted 32/Female
"Weird" I thought, it was numbered differently, and definitely none of the other documents were lettered. I continued reading:
History of present illness: This is a case of a 32 year old female who came in on date redacted due to a chief complaint of multiple hematomas, abrasions, burn wounds and lacerations on her face, trunk and extremeties..."
"Trauma? An accident? Possible abuse?" I contemplated.
"...patient allegedly noticed easy bruisability 2 weeks prior to consult, followed by alleged spontaneous appearance of abrasions and lacerations 2-3 days from onset of bruising, supposedly waking the patient at night due to the sudden sharp and searing pain, initially small cuts 3-5cm widest on her extremeties and face but eventually progressing to deep cuts measuring approximately 10-50cm on her back, chest, abdomen and lower extremeties. 1 week prior to consult, patient started noticing burning sensations on her skin, causing extreme pain and leaving reddish burn marks on her body, patient also experienced lack of appetite and inability to sleep due to loud voices and..."
"Spontaneous appearance? Easy bruising could be a lot of things, but for it to occur with 'spontaneous' abrasions and lacerations? Not to mention burn marks?" I thought out loud, having doubts about the credibility of the use of the word "spontaneous". Surely it was not an accident, considering it started 2 weeks ago with noted progression. "It could be a hematologic problem with the bruising, but that wouldn't explain the sudden appearance of cuts...maybe accompanied by a dermatologic one, the patient is prone to breaks in the skin? But then again the burn marks...the voices..." I analyzed. I was leaning towards abuse, where the cuts and bruises were inflicted by someone else and the abused, whether in some form of fear or coping, decides that it was "spontaneous" rather than inflicted, but why bother lying to yourself, perhaps the one who did it to her is a partner? Or a loved one? It made sense, someone progressively becoming more aggressive with her as time went by, becoming more and more extreme, from bruises to eventually burning.
It could a combination of illnesses to be honest, one on top of another, perhaps an overly sensitive or extremely dry skin that breaks and peels until it bleeds, an allergic reaction prompting the patient to unconciously scratch till her skin became red and lichenified, voices due to lack of sleep or a mental disorder. But looking at my grandfather's physical examination of her, none of the findings solidifies the possibility of those i've mentioned. Truth be told I also partially allowed myself to tunnel vision on the prospect of an abuse, to the point I've skipped some of the chart's contents that I deemed weren't important and tried to look for information to support my claim, or perhaps to disprove it, rookie mistake, but well, I am a rookie then.
"Patient is widowed, lives alone at a secluded area near redacted, only goes out to buy some necessities from redacted but has very minimal interaction from anyone in the village"
Okay then, either she is hiding the fact someone was with her, who is abusing her like I initially thought of, or it's self harm. "I'm pretty sure grandpa considered everything that went through my mind right now. Let me check his initial impression" I thought, with a tinge of annoyance, considering I felt that the patient lied to my grandfather, and was lying to me, decades after the fact.
1 Trauma, to consider physical abuse versus self harm;
"Alright, now we're getting somewhere" I said to myself, with a bit of pride having the same thought process as a physician with decades more experience than I do.2 To consider mental disorder, probably psychotic - premature dementia
I chuckled. Premature dementia, didn't think i'd see that term, I thought everyone including those from his time would have used schizophrenia already, then again medicine and medical knowledge isn't as easily passed around as it is now. Psychiatry as a science would be relatively new during his time compared to other disciplines so the fact he considered it based on the patient hearing "voices"? Bravo gramps."Well...", I thought to myself, "...plenty of things to consider and rule out, let me check what else is there." A bit of cockiness on picking my grandfather's brain out and feeling good about my train of thought, a practice consult and so far, I'm on my way to a perfect score...
3. To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit
.................I gave the document a stern look, unmoving, unblinking, emotionless. Time has stopped, and I haven't noticed. My brain trying to digest the information, the same way my stomach would probably digest a block of steel...it's just not possible. I read one of my grandfather's diagnosis again:
3 To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit
I never been one for faith. Evidence is everything. Science is everything. You can replicate it, you can prove it. Most importantly...It. Makes. Sense. I look at beliefs not based on evidence and feel nothing but skepticism if not disdain. Why won't people listen to expert opinion? Why won't people believe in facts? Why explain the unknown in such convoluted ways, requiring submission of oneself when the only thing the truth requires is but comprehension. I looked at that diagnosis feeling disappointment.Then I felt anger. "Grandpa, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" I thought to myself. Here is a woman, full of bruises, cuts and burns all over her body, claiming that she has been suffering for weeks, barely eats or sleeps, was having auditory hallucinations, in dire need of medical, if not emotional and psychological support and one of the things that comes across your mind is possession.
I tried to calm my mind, these are records of the past anyway, I thought. Maybe it was a resignation born out of incompetence. Maybe grandpa wasn't as good of a doctor as I thought he was, that the shortcomings of his knowledge and limited technology of his time prompted him to adopt a more...liberal viewpoint to medicine. Maybe he was just superstitious himself. Maybe the people of this place had leaked some of their local beliefs into his psyche. Maybe isolation changed the man. Or maybe...just maybe...there's something to it.
I've never been one for faith. That goes for my faith in science as well. To just say that something is stupid because it doesn't align with standard, accepted scientific belief is just as detrimental as its counterpart.
I decided to investigate further when I heard the entrance to the room open with force. One of the maids leaning onto the wall by the entrance, still grasping the doorknob and evidently out of breath.
"Sir...ma'am Martha...calling...for you...says...it's...it's...an emergency..." She says in between breaths.
I quickly stood up, feeling sorry for the woman, she just ran, obviously gasping for air as she arrived at the clinic and now has to lead me back to wherever she came from with the same urgency. At first I was worried something might have happened with Martha, what the maid said didn't really give much clarity, but upon arriving at the main hall I noticed Martha, standing beside a middle aged man and woman, carrying a child, no more than 10 years old. I notice the clear panic and worry on both of their eyes as the man held the boy, who was uncontrollably shaking.
"I know you're not taking any patients yet and I was considering the time, but nobody knows what to do so I..." Martha explains, quite concerned while I ordered the parents to put the child flat on the ground, with me assessing the situation. The first thing I noticed was that the child was burning hot, "possibly febrile seizure? No, too old" I thought. I asked both the parents important details while I ordered the other maid to time the duration of the child's seizure. All the while thinking of possible diseases that may present as such, "Seizure disorder? Epilepsy? Meningitis? Encephalitis?" Eventually the shaking stopped, much to the parents' relief, and I ordered them to carry the boy as we made our way back to the clinic.
"Was this the first time it ever happened?" I inquired, as I put the child on one of the beds in the clinic, securing the corners with additional pillows, noticing the sunken face and apparent exhaustion from the boy, possibly due to the ongoing fever and the recent seizure episode. Once secured, I face the parents and continued my inquiries, I eventually explained everything, elaborating on what I believe happened, I explained that for now, lowering the fever and investigating the source were what we could address, the battery of tests I plan to do (disappointingly, most of them cannot be done here, and I would have to accompany them to a hospital on another town as soon as first light breaks), and the medications and management I plan to give. Everything proceeded as planned and I asked both parents to relax and take a breather, offering them a seat and asking the help to give them water.
Things eventually settled, little Johnny's fever subsided and color came back to him. Nowhere near clear, he can worsen anytime, but that was the best that we could do at that time. The parents were still worried, understandably so, but to an extent reassured, we have a plan after all. Martha, as well as Diane (the help from earlier), now at a calmer state. We discussed the plan, how we would travel, who would accompany us and what we would bring. Eventually, our conversations became relaxed, started to shift to other things, trivial matters, such as were they lived in the village, the date and time of my arrival, recent gossip, where Martha was more than happy to share.
"I was worried the evil spirits might have gotten my baby..." Said the mother nonchalantly, as we talked about the occurrence on a lighter note. "...that's how they got Mrs. Johnson's middle child. That poor boy was never the same after."
I smiled. Not wanting to immediately correct them and sound like an uptight individual. It's part of our culture afterall, old belief systems and a way for people to cope with loss or difficulty, who was I to deny them that. I won't approach these people the hardheaded way, but I will slowly show them the realities and truths of the things they may not understand, well, at least with regards to their health.
"Well, little Johnny is safe here, we'll do what we can" pointing to their son.
Only, their son wasn't where he was supposed to be. I look at the parents, I look at both Martha and Diane, everyone who looked at where I pointed were just as shocked as I was, a split second of silence before panic ensued. Suddenly, everyone stood up on high alert and was looking everywhere. Under covers, under the bed, corners of the room, the desk, behind curtains, hell, I saw Diane look at one of the damn drawers, as if a 10 year old would fit there.
Suddenly I heard loud vomiting, retching, followed by sounds of splashing. I follow where the sounds came from and see a large pool of black, tarry liquid at a corner of my room. I slowly trace where it was coming from and there he was...little Johnny...standing...upside down...on the ceiling.
I hear everyone in the room scream, I was probably screaming too, I couldn't remember. I do remember little Johnny screaming with us though, extremely high pitched and mockingly, with bloodshot eyes, upside down, while black liquid poured from his mouth, covering his face and dripping from his hair. How was that even possible, screaming while liters of unknown fluid dripped from his mouth? I don't know.
Then he laughed, although I was pretty sure that wasn't his voice. It was deep and guttural, it cannot be the boy's voice, it cannot be any boy's voice.
Time seemed to move in slow motion, I was noticing every detail, every expression from everyone's face, I can feel the seconds hand on my wall clock move, the slow dripping of the viscous dark liquid from little Johnny, I can feel every drop of sweat on my body. I could not cope with what i'm experiencing, was it a trick of the mind, an organized prank, have I gone mad...again? So I did the only thing I know how to do...
I tried to diagnose.
"Maybe it was dengue shock all along!" I thought to myself. "Vomiting blood, paleness, fever, an episode of seizure and definitely change in sensorium" I reasoned to myself. I was coping, and I was coping hard. I was ready to drown on my self absorbtion when a booming voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"YOU DUMB FUCK, WILL ANY ILLNESS EXPLAIN WHY YOUR FUCKING PATIENT IS HANGING UPSIDE DOWN ON THE FUCKING CEILING?" Said little Johnny, or at least whoever was speaking on his behalf, because from where I'm standing, I can clearly see that the boy was not mouthing any of the words he said.
"YOU'RE A FUCKING FAILURE, DOCTORS LIKE YOU SHOULD KILL THEMSELVES! HAHAHAHA" he laughed, I never knew laughs could sound like that, as if the words were nails, and his voice box a chalkboard.
"OH WAIT, YOU FAILED AT THAT TOO DOC! FUCKING PATHETIC!"
Of all the things that were happening...a young boy hanging upside down, a mother crying on the floor hysterically, a father staring at his son, eyes wide open and mouth agape, Martha and Diane, both crying while sharing a rosary, in the act of what I assume to be prayer...the thing that snapped me out of my trance was the words that came from little Johnny. Knowledge nobody but the closest to me should know. A secret I planned to leave behind when I left the city, a wound I intended to forget as I started anew.
Visions of my memories came flashing back...medical school...overwhelming duty...familial expectations...failure...depression...my attempt...a bottle of medications...my mother...crying...on my bedside...
"LEAVE MY SON ALONE!" Johnny's father screamed. Starling everyone in the room.
Nothing matters, the past is in the past, I am better now, and that boy needs help, more than anything.
"YOUR SON? WHY DON'T WE ASK THAT CRYING WHORE IF JOHNNY REALLY IS YOUR SON" The voice says, laughing.
At that point the mother stops crying, looks up towards johnny, then towards his husband, in a state of shock. Like what the voice said is crazier than whatever was happening at the moment.
"THE ONLY REASON THAT WHORE STUCK WITH YOU WAS BECAUSE JOHNNY'S REAAAAAAAL FATHER WOULD NOT TAKE HER!" The entity says, continuing the hysteric laughter.
We were being played. It was toying with us. And from the look on the mother's face...it seems like little Johnny did not even need to lie to do it.
Then, to everyone's horror..."It" started to run.
It ran across the ceiling in a rabid frenzy, erratic and forceful, running and jumping, hopping sideways then going on all fours, still attached to the ceiling, splashing bile and blood all over the room, all the while making a "hihihi" sound...childish and terrifying. It ran and ran, repeating the same erratic change in movements, repeating the same eerie giggle until it reached the window, stopping and standing straight, it stared outside for what felt like forever...then all of a sudden...johnny just fell, like whatever was attaching him to the ceiling just gave, headfirst into the floor, giving a very audible cracking sound.
I heard a gasp from johnny's mother. I can at least detect some miniscule chest expansion, but that cracking sound cannot be anything good. As if thinking the same thing, Martha, who was the nearest to where Johnny fell, while still clinging tightly to Diane's rosary, approached the boy.
"Johnny?" She said softly, all the while approaching an inch at a time.
As she was almost at arms length of the boy's body, she gives the mother a knowing look, confirming that he was breathing. Martha suddenly produces a piece of cloth from one of the pockets of her uniform, possibly to pack the bleeding from the head. She intended to put the cloth on top of the boy's head, but looked towards my direction, urging me forward, perhaps for me to place it properly. I walk towards the boy, takes the cloth from Martha and as I fold the cloth to circle Johnny's cranium with Martha's help, the boy immediately sat up, looks at Martha and smiles ear to ear...literally ear to ear.
"GET YOUR WRINKLY HANDS OFF ME YOU DUSTY OLD FUCK!" He barks at her, Martha screams in fear and I was taken aback.
That was all the time Johnny needed to stand and jump towards the window, breaking it and running towards the mountainside. I hear his father scream his name, quickly breaking more glass so he could fit, and immediately giving chase. The mother was still on the floor, wailing towards the direction of her child and husband. Martha, in shock, still holding the cloth she intended to wrap johnny with.
It took me a while to notice Diane shaking me vigorously. "Doctor!" She screams. "Doctor Smith! What should we do!?" She voices out, with obvious desperation.
I ignored her.
I feel scared, but taking all into consideration, I predominantly feel tired. Defeated. Insulted.
I have nothing more to give in the face of whatever that thing that took Johnny was.
I slowly walk towards my desk, I open my drawer, I take a piece of paper and I pull out my pen.
Patient #00001a Name redacted 10/M
I write, giving no thoughts to the people on the same room as me, those left behind by little Johnny and his father. "Did he catch up to him? Was the boy alright now?...is his father alright?" I wonder. I'll find out soon enough, I figured, rumors spread like wildfire around here anyways.
I continued to write with resignment, absorbed in my own little world, consumed by the horror I witnessed, the breaking of my spirit, of my beliefs, the questioning of my knowledge. I want to escape it, deny it, but that's not what should be done to the truth. So I surrendered.
1 To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit
END2024.05.20 03:15 Trash_Tia The anatomy of a mermaid.
I wasn't expecting a sea-world date.
Alex was my type.
He was dorky, kind of adorable, and he (really) loved marine life.
The guy was mesmerised, pressing his face against the tank, glued to the mermaid attractions who seemed delighted by his presence, gesturing him toward them. Well, the girls were.
The one singular male mermaid was seriously out of character, rolling his eyes.
2 hours later, the place was closing.
I had been sitting on a bench with a melted slushy for almost three hours, mulling my boyfriend's last words in my head.
”I'm just going to get photos of the dolphins, Kira!”
He'd stood me up.
For fish.
I was making my way toward the exit, when a slimy hand slammed over my mouth.
“Don't move.”
Half awake, I was dragged into a large room with a single tank filled to the brim.
When I lifted my head, an ethereal looking woman dangled my boyfriend over the edge.
Before I could cry out, those same slimy hands found my mouth, squeezing the breath from my lungs.
Alex was unconscious, crumpled in the man's arms. The world shifted when I glimpsed the blade. I saw my boyfriend's half lidded eyes, his parted lips, before his throat was sliced open, his body shoved into the water.
Alex sunk deep down, his blood polluting clarity, a cloud of deep red dragging him to the bottom.
I lunged forward, but I couldn't breathe, couldn't scream.
Someone was speaking, cold steel pressed to my throat.
But their words were white noise. Above me, the roof slid open, and in the centre of the sky, a perfect half moon illuminated the depths.
When a cruel blade was drawn across my throat, my breath choking, blood pooling from my mouth, there was a full moon.
I don't remember being dragged up ice cold metal steps. I don't remember my body hitting cool water, and plunging down, down, down.
What I do remember is a bright light.
The water enveloping me, cradling me, lulling me to sleep, a voice telling me everything was going to be okay.
I was her daughter now.
When I awoke, I was heavy.
Too heavy, like something was weighing me down.
Looking down at myself, a shriek tore from my lips, stolen away in explosions of bubbles.
My legs were gone, something slimy and wrong eating away my torso.
That same melodic murmur told me to stay calm, even when I was screaming.
I can't breathe.
My lungs felt dead.
Like I didn't need to breathe.
That disgusting thing attached to me was pulling me down.
“Look, Mommy! Look at the pretty mermaid!”
The little girl wasn't looking at me.
Twisting around, I found myself face to face with Alex.
Who was smiling.
"Smile.” a male voice muttered in my head.
In the corner of my eye, shadows had me surrounded, already warning me.
”Smile, or they'll feed us to the fucking sharks."
submitted by Trash_Tia to shortscarystories [link] [comments]
Alex was my type.
He was dorky, kind of adorable, and he (really) loved marine life.
The guy was mesmerised, pressing his face against the tank, glued to the mermaid attractions who seemed delighted by his presence, gesturing him toward them. Well, the girls were.
The one singular male mermaid was seriously out of character, rolling his eyes.
2 hours later, the place was closing.
I had been sitting on a bench with a melted slushy for almost three hours, mulling my boyfriend's last words in my head.
”I'm just going to get photos of the dolphins, Kira!”
He'd stood me up.
For fish.
I was making my way toward the exit, when a slimy hand slammed over my mouth.
“Don't move.”
Half awake, I was dragged into a large room with a single tank filled to the brim.
When I lifted my head, an ethereal looking woman dangled my boyfriend over the edge.
Before I could cry out, those same slimy hands found my mouth, squeezing the breath from my lungs.
Alex was unconscious, crumpled in the man's arms. The world shifted when I glimpsed the blade. I saw my boyfriend's half lidded eyes, his parted lips, before his throat was sliced open, his body shoved into the water.
Alex sunk deep down, his blood polluting clarity, a cloud of deep red dragging him to the bottom.
I lunged forward, but I couldn't breathe, couldn't scream.
Someone was speaking, cold steel pressed to my throat.
But their words were white noise. Above me, the roof slid open, and in the centre of the sky, a perfect half moon illuminated the depths.
When a cruel blade was drawn across my throat, my breath choking, blood pooling from my mouth, there was a full moon.
I don't remember being dragged up ice cold metal steps. I don't remember my body hitting cool water, and plunging down, down, down.
What I do remember is a bright light.
The water enveloping me, cradling me, lulling me to sleep, a voice telling me everything was going to be okay.
I was her daughter now.
When I awoke, I was heavy.
Too heavy, like something was weighing me down.
Looking down at myself, a shriek tore from my lips, stolen away in explosions of bubbles.
My legs were gone, something slimy and wrong eating away my torso.
That same melodic murmur told me to stay calm, even when I was screaming.
I can't breathe.
My lungs felt dead.
Like I didn't need to breathe.
That disgusting thing attached to me was pulling me down.
“Look, Mommy! Look at the pretty mermaid!”
The little girl wasn't looking at me.
Twisting around, I found myself face to face with Alex.
Who was smiling.
"Smile.” a male voice muttered in my head.
In the corner of my eye, shadows had me surrounded, already warning me.
”Smile, or they'll feed us to the fucking sharks."
2024.05.20 03:09 Glittering_Act_4059 Show recap! 5/19, 2pm showing
This is my second ever time going to SNM. I wrote up about my first time and how magical it was and I'm so glad I got to go again because let me tell y'all I somehow managed to have an entirely new experience this time.
I got the Oz Guest ticket to ensure I got an Ace card, and I was the first one off the elevator. I was dropped off on the 5th floor, alone, which was quite creepy with all the hospital beds and tubs and the forest. There was no one for several minutes, and I was disoriented and couldn't find the stairs or any way out. I drifted between the tub room and the forest, and eventually a nurse appeared in the tub room. I observed her wringing clothes in water, and draping them across the tubs, staging them like they were people. This process was slow and I heard a noise in the distance so I followed that into the forest, where I saw one other guest watching the cottage in the forest. I noticed finally that there was actually a nurse inside, eyes closed, only visible from one angle so I hadn't seen her when I passed earlier.
With nothing else to do, I stood there watching for what seemed like ages. Surely, at some point, she would do something? It was so long that I thought for sure I was missing a lot of the show. I wondered if it was worth it. I wondered what the other guest was wondering. A few others passed us, but no other characters for the longest time. Then a bell chimed, and the nurse finally opened her eyes. She looked out at us, stood, and....closed the window. At this point I was sure I had just wasted my time. I was debating leaving. But no one else was moving. But surely, this was a waste of time. I turned to leave, and suddenly the nurse from the tub room appeared, crying, and the nurse inside the cottage opened the window to observe her. I must say the lighting here was excellent, but then the lighting in this show continuously impresses me. I have never been a lighting nerd but this show has made me realize how impactful lighting can be to a show. It's used masterfully in many scenes.
But back to the show. The nurse finally came out, and touched hands with the other nurse. They walked. I walked. We all wove through that forest, until the tub nurse ran suddenly, and we were running too, and then we were locked out from a gate. The tub nurse appeared in a window to the tub room, and danced as we watched. This small dance seemed to me like she was on the edge of a cliff, and her grief took her over as she fell suddenly off the edge. Not fell, leaped. I read this scene as a woman tortured by grief taking her own life, while a friend? Colleague? Observed.
Then my cottage nurse turned and walked slowly back to her cottage. She opened the door a crack, and turned, staring at me. I stepped closer. She opened it further. Cautiously, I stepped inside. She closed the door behind us. What transpired next was a magical experience I will not soon forget, with the taste of tea on my lips and whispered words about a moon like decayed bark and a sun like a wilted sunflower and stars like flies pinned to place. Blood will have blood...
I left and there was no one outside the cottage or indeed in the forest at all. I made my way through it and the tub room and finally found another hallway. I'm going to be honest, I do forget where I wandered then, and I may definitely be mixing up the order in which the following scenes happened because the night was a fever dream. But I witnessed scenes I did not see the first time I went last month. Somehow, by luck, other than the ending scene and the rave I did not see any duplicate scenes.
I saw the porter - who I don't think I ever encountered last time - and his dance in the hotel lobby is my new favorite. It's so full of raw joy, and though he was clearly an older man he danced with boyish jubilance that was infectious. More than a few of us observers were absolutely dancing along with him as we watched. I also found his interactions with the Boy Witch fascinating and their choreography at the telephones was my favorite by far.
The Boy Witch was another character I only saw in the ballroom and the rave last time, but who I witnessed several scenes with this time around. He's far too fast for me to follow, but I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time several times throughout the show. It was the same actor as last time, and I have to saw I think he plays the character really well. He's clearly sought after by everyone he encounters, seducing and drawing people in. I loved every scene with him almost as much as the Porter. Also, is the snake tattoo his or his characters? It's really beautiful, either way.
I saw two very intimate scenes with the Bald Witch, who I wondered how I missed last show but found out I didn't - she wears a wig through part of the show 😅 The little room she cleans up in a few times throughout the show off the side of the lobby is where I encountered her most. Once solo, and I felt almost bad I stepped into the room with her because I'm not small and I know I partially blocked the view of people outside of the room but fortune favors the bold right? I did try to squeeze myself into a corner, which only resulted in another person coming in to fully block the view from the hallway. That person caught the eye of the bald witch instead of me (I should have just stayed out blocking them 😤) and was allowed to touch her head in a very intimate moment.
The second time I caught her in there was by following a woman whose character name I don't know, after the ballroom scene where the two of them move the trees and then embrace. This time I did not care if I blocked people, me and one other person were in the room and watched the two women clean themselves up and reapply makeup. When the other woman left, I stayed with the bald witch (now wearing a wig), who fascinated me.
At some point I ended up in the rave bar before the rave began. I didn't know the "Hell Here" sign changed to "Hello There" before the rave! Every time I had seen it previously it had the o and t unlit. I saw Hecate readying for the rave. The music changed, and she danced, and eventually she made gasping sounds. Each gasp seemed to be a summoning. A ritual, drawing the other characters towards her. Her scream initiated the rave, and this time I had front row view from a different angle than I had previously, so it was like seeing it new all over again. Every bit as incredible, but different enough to feel like a brand new experience. And again, the lighting, seriously I'm a lighting whore after this show. I will forever judge theater experiences by their use of lighting compared to this show now. I hope whoever is in charge of lighting design is paid handsomely because seriously their work really drives the story. The music too, but I'm more impressed by the lighting tbh.
After the rave, I debated trying for the Hecate 1 on 1 since I knew what triggered it from last show, but I wanted to try new experiences this time so I tried to follow the Boy Witch instead. But I couldn't keep up, and there were too many people, and the next thing I knew I was by myself wandering empty halls again.
I can't remember if this happened before or after the rave, but I saw Agnes in the hall with all the shops. She went into a bedroom, and lay to sleep, where the tailor (not sure that's the characters actual title?) snuck in through the closet and put her capelet over her as she slept. When he left, she woke, and she locked the door to the room. I watched her put on makeup, and then go into the closet. Me and the 3 others watching kind of looked at each other, wondering if we should follow. Two of them tried the door, to find it's locked. Once I knew that I plowed into the closet and had a delirious thought about going to Narnia but no, I just ended up back in the shops hallway, where I saw Agnes meet the man who had covered her when she slept, and together they went into the clothier, and danced as he presented her with fabrics to choose from, and when he left she stole his money, and he brought her flowers, and then she went back to her room. She went next to the detective agency, and wrote a letter which I couldn't read despite trying over her shoulder (I'm a creep, this show makes me feel like such a voyeur lol).
At some point I ended up back in the lobby, watching the porter and the Boy Witch and two women and I think MacBeth? Dancing on the lobby desk, which was wonderfully choreographed again. Instead of following the others I stayed with the porter and situated myself in front of him as he made a tiny boat out of a card. Then Agnes was there, ringing the bell for the porter, and I realized then we'd had a reset because I had seen this scene already. I went to take the boat origami, but as I reached for it another guest snatched it away - like literally, she had been pressed to my side the entire scene, her fingers twitching so she clearly knew the opportunity would be coming. I thought that was a little uncalled for, but whatever, I'd already had a few very special moments today I wasn't going to let one instance sour anything.
I left to find another scene as I had watched this one already, and ended up back at the Manderlay bar by accident. Took that opportunity to use the restroom and grab a quick drink because a woman was singing and she had a lovely voice. Listened until her song was done and when I went to leave, the guy who was the greeter at the start of the show asked if I want to enter a different way, and took me in through the "main" entrance which somehow I had never gone in through before?? This deposited me in the lobby of the hotel of course, and I wandered until I encountered two people running towards each other and embrace, sobbing. The man went on, and far too many people followed him so I followed the woman, who went into the room with the lit cross where Duncan(?) body is. She unwrapped him and used true loves kiss to bring him back to life. Together they went to the ballroom and danced, which was beautiful. Then she left, and I followed our resurrected Duncan because I had NO IDEA he came back to life at any point from last show so I was like bro what are you gonna do with your new life??? Well, he decided to retrace his steps of course, clearly confused and slowly remembering what had happened to him as he went first to the cross room, then to the place of his murder, then through to the room he dances in before his murder, and then he went running. I tried keeping up but well, I am not a runner.
Somewhere along the way I end up back in the ballroom, having followed someone I encountered in the hall. I thought oh great, banquet again, let me wander and see if anything else happens elsewhere since I have already seen this? But as I went to leave, the Porter and a woman came in, and positioned themselves in the back of the ballroom. I had not seen this before as I'm usually at the front, so I decided to stay and see if they do anything interesting. And this is when I realized the show was ending, because the banquet turned into a hanging, and we were then all ushered out.
Second time going to this show, and I feel I saw a whole new show having witnessed so many scenes I hadn't seen last time. I wonder how many more I am missing? I hope to see it once more next month, and maybe finally see the entire show and put together the pieces of plot. I definitely feel that this time I was able to absorb more, and found myself actually applying motives and thoughts and words to scenes that had none. I love that there are very few spoken scenes - it leaves the experience up to the beholder to interpret, and I know from reading others recaps that we all kind of notice different inflections that mean different things to us and change how we view a scene. I'm only sorry i waited so long to see this show - I wish I could have seen it more often to truly capture all of it.
But, I may have another chance next month! Until then, I for one will definitely be getting a good nights sleep after all that walking today 😂
submitted by Glittering_Act_4059 to sleepnomore [link] [comments]
I got the Oz Guest ticket to ensure I got an Ace card, and I was the first one off the elevator. I was dropped off on the 5th floor, alone, which was quite creepy with all the hospital beds and tubs and the forest. There was no one for several minutes, and I was disoriented and couldn't find the stairs or any way out. I drifted between the tub room and the forest, and eventually a nurse appeared in the tub room. I observed her wringing clothes in water, and draping them across the tubs, staging them like they were people. This process was slow and I heard a noise in the distance so I followed that into the forest, where I saw one other guest watching the cottage in the forest. I noticed finally that there was actually a nurse inside, eyes closed, only visible from one angle so I hadn't seen her when I passed earlier.
With nothing else to do, I stood there watching for what seemed like ages. Surely, at some point, she would do something? It was so long that I thought for sure I was missing a lot of the show. I wondered if it was worth it. I wondered what the other guest was wondering. A few others passed us, but no other characters for the longest time. Then a bell chimed, and the nurse finally opened her eyes. She looked out at us, stood, and....closed the window. At this point I was sure I had just wasted my time. I was debating leaving. But no one else was moving. But surely, this was a waste of time. I turned to leave, and suddenly the nurse from the tub room appeared, crying, and the nurse inside the cottage opened the window to observe her. I must say the lighting here was excellent, but then the lighting in this show continuously impresses me. I have never been a lighting nerd but this show has made me realize how impactful lighting can be to a show. It's used masterfully in many scenes.
But back to the show. The nurse finally came out, and touched hands with the other nurse. They walked. I walked. We all wove through that forest, until the tub nurse ran suddenly, and we were running too, and then we were locked out from a gate. The tub nurse appeared in a window to the tub room, and danced as we watched. This small dance seemed to me like she was on the edge of a cliff, and her grief took her over as she fell suddenly off the edge. Not fell, leaped. I read this scene as a woman tortured by grief taking her own life, while a friend? Colleague? Observed.
Then my cottage nurse turned and walked slowly back to her cottage. She opened the door a crack, and turned, staring at me. I stepped closer. She opened it further. Cautiously, I stepped inside. She closed the door behind us. What transpired next was a magical experience I will not soon forget, with the taste of tea on my lips and whispered words about a moon like decayed bark and a sun like a wilted sunflower and stars like flies pinned to place. Blood will have blood...
I left and there was no one outside the cottage or indeed in the forest at all. I made my way through it and the tub room and finally found another hallway. I'm going to be honest, I do forget where I wandered then, and I may definitely be mixing up the order in which the following scenes happened because the night was a fever dream. But I witnessed scenes I did not see the first time I went last month. Somehow, by luck, other than the ending scene and the rave I did not see any duplicate scenes.
I saw the porter - who I don't think I ever encountered last time - and his dance in the hotel lobby is my new favorite. It's so full of raw joy, and though he was clearly an older man he danced with boyish jubilance that was infectious. More than a few of us observers were absolutely dancing along with him as we watched. I also found his interactions with the Boy Witch fascinating and their choreography at the telephones was my favorite by far.
The Boy Witch was another character I only saw in the ballroom and the rave last time, but who I witnessed several scenes with this time around. He's far too fast for me to follow, but I was lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time several times throughout the show. It was the same actor as last time, and I have to saw I think he plays the character really well. He's clearly sought after by everyone he encounters, seducing and drawing people in. I loved every scene with him almost as much as the Porter. Also, is the snake tattoo his or his characters? It's really beautiful, either way.
I saw two very intimate scenes with the Bald Witch, who I wondered how I missed last show but found out I didn't - she wears a wig through part of the show 😅 The little room she cleans up in a few times throughout the show off the side of the lobby is where I encountered her most. Once solo, and I felt almost bad I stepped into the room with her because I'm not small and I know I partially blocked the view of people outside of the room but fortune favors the bold right? I did try to squeeze myself into a corner, which only resulted in another person coming in to fully block the view from the hallway. That person caught the eye of the bald witch instead of me (I should have just stayed out blocking them 😤) and was allowed to touch her head in a very intimate moment.
The second time I caught her in there was by following a woman whose character name I don't know, after the ballroom scene where the two of them move the trees and then embrace. This time I did not care if I blocked people, me and one other person were in the room and watched the two women clean themselves up and reapply makeup. When the other woman left, I stayed with the bald witch (now wearing a wig), who fascinated me.
At some point I ended up in the rave bar before the rave began. I didn't know the "Hell Here" sign changed to "Hello There" before the rave! Every time I had seen it previously it had the o and t unlit. I saw Hecate readying for the rave. The music changed, and she danced, and eventually she made gasping sounds. Each gasp seemed to be a summoning. A ritual, drawing the other characters towards her. Her scream initiated the rave, and this time I had front row view from a different angle than I had previously, so it was like seeing it new all over again. Every bit as incredible, but different enough to feel like a brand new experience. And again, the lighting, seriously I'm a lighting whore after this show. I will forever judge theater experiences by their use of lighting compared to this show now. I hope whoever is in charge of lighting design is paid handsomely because seriously their work really drives the story. The music too, but I'm more impressed by the lighting tbh.
After the rave, I debated trying for the Hecate 1 on 1 since I knew what triggered it from last show, but I wanted to try new experiences this time so I tried to follow the Boy Witch instead. But I couldn't keep up, and there were too many people, and the next thing I knew I was by myself wandering empty halls again.
I can't remember if this happened before or after the rave, but I saw Agnes in the hall with all the shops. She went into a bedroom, and lay to sleep, where the tailor (not sure that's the characters actual title?) snuck in through the closet and put her capelet over her as she slept. When he left, she woke, and she locked the door to the room. I watched her put on makeup, and then go into the closet. Me and the 3 others watching kind of looked at each other, wondering if we should follow. Two of them tried the door, to find it's locked. Once I knew that I plowed into the closet and had a delirious thought about going to Narnia but no, I just ended up back in the shops hallway, where I saw Agnes meet the man who had covered her when she slept, and together they went into the clothier, and danced as he presented her with fabrics to choose from, and when he left she stole his money, and he brought her flowers, and then she went back to her room. She went next to the detective agency, and wrote a letter which I couldn't read despite trying over her shoulder (I'm a creep, this show makes me feel like such a voyeur lol).
At some point I ended up back in the lobby, watching the porter and the Boy Witch and two women and I think MacBeth? Dancing on the lobby desk, which was wonderfully choreographed again. Instead of following the others I stayed with the porter and situated myself in front of him as he made a tiny boat out of a card. Then Agnes was there, ringing the bell for the porter, and I realized then we'd had a reset because I had seen this scene already. I went to take the boat origami, but as I reached for it another guest snatched it away - like literally, she had been pressed to my side the entire scene, her fingers twitching so she clearly knew the opportunity would be coming. I thought that was a little uncalled for, but whatever, I'd already had a few very special moments today I wasn't going to let one instance sour anything.
I left to find another scene as I had watched this one already, and ended up back at the Manderlay bar by accident. Took that opportunity to use the restroom and grab a quick drink because a woman was singing and she had a lovely voice. Listened until her song was done and when I went to leave, the guy who was the greeter at the start of the show asked if I want to enter a different way, and took me in through the "main" entrance which somehow I had never gone in through before?? This deposited me in the lobby of the hotel of course, and I wandered until I encountered two people running towards each other and embrace, sobbing. The man went on, and far too many people followed him so I followed the woman, who went into the room with the lit cross where Duncan(?) body is. She unwrapped him and used true loves kiss to bring him back to life. Together they went to the ballroom and danced, which was beautiful. Then she left, and I followed our resurrected Duncan because I had NO IDEA he came back to life at any point from last show so I was like bro what are you gonna do with your new life??? Well, he decided to retrace his steps of course, clearly confused and slowly remembering what had happened to him as he went first to the cross room, then to the place of his murder, then through to the room he dances in before his murder, and then he went running. I tried keeping up but well, I am not a runner.
Somewhere along the way I end up back in the ballroom, having followed someone I encountered in the hall. I thought oh great, banquet again, let me wander and see if anything else happens elsewhere since I have already seen this? But as I went to leave, the Porter and a woman came in, and positioned themselves in the back of the ballroom. I had not seen this before as I'm usually at the front, so I decided to stay and see if they do anything interesting. And this is when I realized the show was ending, because the banquet turned into a hanging, and we were then all ushered out.
Second time going to this show, and I feel I saw a whole new show having witnessed so many scenes I hadn't seen last time. I wonder how many more I am missing? I hope to see it once more next month, and maybe finally see the entire show and put together the pieces of plot. I definitely feel that this time I was able to absorb more, and found myself actually applying motives and thoughts and words to scenes that had none. I love that there are very few spoken scenes - it leaves the experience up to the beholder to interpret, and I know from reading others recaps that we all kind of notice different inflections that mean different things to us and change how we view a scene. I'm only sorry i waited so long to see this show - I wish I could have seen it more often to truly capture all of it.
But, I may have another chance next month! Until then, I for one will definitely be getting a good nights sleep after all that walking today 😂
2024.05.20 03:08 Thistookmesixhours What’s wrong with me?
apologies in advance. i just really need help. 29 F, was in therapy (4ish years on off total?) diagnosed social anxiety and on lexapro for a year-ish, weened off due to feeling like my anxiety was “removed” but i still didn’t feel right/ felt blank, stagnant, no sex drive whatsoever, ate a lot, didn’t care and didn’t work out
i’ve been off for about a year but i just feel so different. mentally paralyzed. unable to make a change because ive tried in the past and they resulted in me failing. i constantly mourn who i should be but cant. as i get older i get so much more lonely and have no true closeness with anyone except my partner.
i cannot workout anymore. when i do, i physically feel like i weigh 500 pounds and the amount of mental effort it takes me to get my shoes on is debilitating. im 15ish lbs over my goal weight, if that, and it feels like im 500 pounds overweight. during covid i ran 2-3 miles and lifted daily. i cant imagine doing that now
almost everything feels like it takes enormous amounts of effort to do. cooking equates running a marathon. shower requires a pep talk. i am constantly questioning what the best order of things to do is to get optimal output of my actions. run washer first to get it going so it runs throughout the rest of my tasks, wash dogs bowls so they’re ready after his walk, make any dreaded, dreaded phone calls during dog walk so i dont have to be back in the house during dreaded phone call.. etc. constantly filling every minute with something to have “chill time” later which never comes.
i cannot stick with anything longer than twice. i try different means of exercise and/ or hobbies , either fall in love with them and try them twice before stopping forever or i never get that loving feeling to begin with.
i have no confidence. i used to be so smart and driven and now i just have no personality hobbies or interests. i have a shit job that makes me dumber by the day and gives me no drive. i have no friends of my own and am with a man who for some reason loves me to death, but has a trait of finding the good in everything to a fault. i.e. why i don’t deserve him and im confident everyone around us believe it as well. (everyone makes fun of him for liking terrible movies shows etc, this is an actual thing i make myself we wear a scarlet letter for? does that make sense?)
i have a horrible, horrible memory. i joke that i can watch the same movie, for the first time, ten times. i don’t remember anyone’s name or face. i don’t remember really anything about my childhood or teen years or 20s. i feel like im meeting everyone for the first time no matter how many times ive seen them.
when im at places with a lot of noise, i noticed a specifically at parties with my boyfriends friends or at restaurants, i CANNOT hear the person speaking to me. i hear every other sound and spoken word smashed together in a mush instead of being able to digest the person speaking to me.
whenever i try to meditate or do anything that i find helps lessen my issues, i cant stick with it as long as i should. i give up on everything which gives me no confidence in myself
i exhaust myself just by thinking. i’m constantly constantly thinking. daydreaming a life i wish i was able to give myself , lots of dreading usually upcoming social events (they could be like 5 months out and im still filled with dread about them) im always “thought tornado-ing” as i call it
i feel like i have no control. i’m so determined to be miserable, stagnant, bland, cuz im scared of trying something new because i just know ill fail. no faith in myself bc i forget everything and can’t stick with anything positive. it never fucking stops.
please help. what should i do? what the hell is wrong with me
submitted by Thistookmesixhours to mentalhealth [link] [comments]
i’ve been off for about a year but i just feel so different. mentally paralyzed. unable to make a change because ive tried in the past and they resulted in me failing. i constantly mourn who i should be but cant. as i get older i get so much more lonely and have no true closeness with anyone except my partner.
i cannot workout anymore. when i do, i physically feel like i weigh 500 pounds and the amount of mental effort it takes me to get my shoes on is debilitating. im 15ish lbs over my goal weight, if that, and it feels like im 500 pounds overweight. during covid i ran 2-3 miles and lifted daily. i cant imagine doing that now
almost everything feels like it takes enormous amounts of effort to do. cooking equates running a marathon. shower requires a pep talk. i am constantly questioning what the best order of things to do is to get optimal output of my actions. run washer first to get it going so it runs throughout the rest of my tasks, wash dogs bowls so they’re ready after his walk, make any dreaded, dreaded phone calls during dog walk so i dont have to be back in the house during dreaded phone call.. etc. constantly filling every minute with something to have “chill time” later which never comes.
i cannot stick with anything longer than twice. i try different means of exercise and/ or hobbies , either fall in love with them and try them twice before stopping forever or i never get that loving feeling to begin with.
i have no confidence. i used to be so smart and driven and now i just have no personality hobbies or interests. i have a shit job that makes me dumber by the day and gives me no drive. i have no friends of my own and am with a man who for some reason loves me to death, but has a trait of finding the good in everything to a fault. i.e. why i don’t deserve him and im confident everyone around us believe it as well. (everyone makes fun of him for liking terrible movies shows etc, this is an actual thing i make myself we wear a scarlet letter for? does that make sense?)
i have a horrible, horrible memory. i joke that i can watch the same movie, for the first time, ten times. i don’t remember anyone’s name or face. i don’t remember really anything about my childhood or teen years or 20s. i feel like im meeting everyone for the first time no matter how many times ive seen them.
when im at places with a lot of noise, i noticed a specifically at parties with my boyfriends friends or at restaurants, i CANNOT hear the person speaking to me. i hear every other sound and spoken word smashed together in a mush instead of being able to digest the person speaking to me.
whenever i try to meditate or do anything that i find helps lessen my issues, i cant stick with it as long as i should. i give up on everything which gives me no confidence in myself
i exhaust myself just by thinking. i’m constantly constantly thinking. daydreaming a life i wish i was able to give myself , lots of dreading usually upcoming social events (they could be like 5 months out and im still filled with dread about them) im always “thought tornado-ing” as i call it
i feel like i have no control. i’m so determined to be miserable, stagnant, bland, cuz im scared of trying something new because i just know ill fail. no faith in myself bc i forget everything and can’t stick with anything positive. it never fucking stops.
please help. what should i do? what the hell is wrong with me
2024.05.20 03:01 vityvanity 31 TransF gamer LF online buds, pals, and besties.
My name is Ghee (pronounced like the letter). I'm a graphic designer who works from home with a ton of cats (I don't work WITH them, but they do seem to work against me). I have pockets of free time that I'd like to fill up with some good company. I'm usually on 4PM EST onwards. Please keep in mind that I'm only looking for something platonic and SFW.
Interests are video games, music, TV/anime, movies, art, and pop culture references. Biggest one is probably gaming (PC) on usually NA servers - with my current rotation being League/TFT, Valorant, The Finals, Fortnite, and WoW MoP. I also enjoy trivia and word games so if you feel like nerding it out with me then that would ba A+
My humor is stupid, dark, dry, but never malicious. I respect boundaries and can carry my share of the conversation (my back is not that strong, please feel free to contribute)
I primarily use Discord and enjoy voice calls - whether playing or doing something together or just hanging out while we do our own thing. I don't ask for much, really; but I'd strongly prefer if you were 23+ and LGBT+ friendly. DM me something about yourself and go from there. Thanks for reading and I hope you find what you're looking for!
submitted by vityvanity to Needafriend [link] [comments]
Interests are video games, music, TV/anime, movies, art, and pop culture references. Biggest one is probably gaming (PC) on usually NA servers - with my current rotation being League/TFT, Valorant, The Finals, Fortnite, and WoW MoP. I also enjoy trivia and word games so if you feel like nerding it out with me then that would ba A+
My humor is stupid, dark, dry, but never malicious. I respect boundaries and can carry my share of the conversation (my back is not that strong, please feel free to contribute)
I primarily use Discord and enjoy voice calls - whether playing or doing something together or just hanging out while we do our own thing. I don't ask for much, really; but I'd strongly prefer if you were 23+ and LGBT+ friendly. DM me something about yourself and go from there. Thanks for reading and I hope you find what you're looking for!
2024.05.20 02:52 DitmasJr When someone you love turns on you...
The pain that, I feel right now because of this is unbearable. My sister has cut me dead. I have texted, written letters, called and left messages. Nothing. Not a word. We had a falling out a few years ago when we all lived together in Florida but, I thought it was all behind us. She was an addict and, blamed every bad thing in her life on others. Especially myself, my wife and, my kids. We used to be so close. I could do no wrong in her eyes and her in mine. Now, I'm a bastard. Why is she doing this to me? This hurts more than, just about any other hurt I've ever experienced. How can she just throw away all of the memories? The holidays, BBQs, get togethers, birthdays, all of the love we experienced as a family? I just don't get it.
submitted by DitmasJr to depression [link] [comments]
2024.05.20 02:51 danh138 Titles with four letters or less
Titles are tricky, one word titles are hard enough but let’s narrow it down further. I like titles that are short and sweet, it leaves a lot of what you’re about to watch to the imagination. What are some films that use short titles effectively? Let’s go with four or less letters (or numbers). It can either be a great title or a great movie but preferably both. I’ll go first: Jaws (1975). What do you got?
submitted by danh138 to movies [link] [comments]
2024.05.20 02:39 KittyPurry54 Feeling discouraged/having trouble finding a dr
I’ve always been large chested. As I’ve gotten older, they have only gotten larger and more difficult to deal with. I’ve wanted a breast reduction for quite some time now and recently brought it up with my family doctor. She said based on my size I would qualify for a breast reduction for medical reasons and encouraged me to call some local offices (she said I did not require a referral but would write a letter on my behalf to help my case if needed). The first office I called initially sounded promising as the surgeon there is well known in my area and has gotten good reviews for people I know. Once I gave them my insurance info to make an appointment, I get a call back after booking the consultation from the lady in charge of billing/insurance at the office. She proceeds to tell me that my insurance is accepted but the type of program my card is under is not one they generally accept - they only will bill is it’s for urgent medical needs such as for a breast cancer patient. I told her that I wasn’t pursuing the surgery for aesthetic purposes and it was in fact for medical reasons (but obviously not as urgent as a breast cancer case) but she said the office wouldn’t/“couldn’t” do it. I’m bummed, but didn’t want to give up just yet. I call another office in my area who has a different surgeon (also great reviews but none from anyone I personally knew) and leave a message to inquire about a consultation. I get a call back and I am told they don’t bill insurance and are cash only.
At this point I don’t know if I have any other options. I feel like I’ve hit a wall.. Has anyone run into this issue before with their insurance? Are more dr’s going cash only?
For reference, I am 5’ 3” and am currently a 36-38DDD. At my thinnest weight of 100 lbs, I was still a 32DD. I mention my size at my thinnest because I’ve had people tell me that I just need to lose weight, but that won’t solve the problem as I’ve been large chested from an early age. Genetics also play a roll as my mother was also large chested and passed away from breast cancer at a young age. Her mother also passed away fairly young from cancer (I’m not sure what kind), making me a third generation for potential cancer risk. Any help/advice is appreciated. Or words of encouragement if you are also going through something similar.
submitted by KittyPurry54 to Reduction [link] [comments]
At this point I don’t know if I have any other options. I feel like I’ve hit a wall.. Has anyone run into this issue before with their insurance? Are more dr’s going cash only?
For reference, I am 5’ 3” and am currently a 36-38DDD. At my thinnest weight of 100 lbs, I was still a 32DD. I mention my size at my thinnest because I’ve had people tell me that I just need to lose weight, but that won’t solve the problem as I’ve been large chested from an early age. Genetics also play a roll as my mother was also large chested and passed away from breast cancer at a young age. Her mother also passed away fairly young from cancer (I’m not sure what kind), making me a third generation for potential cancer risk. Any help/advice is appreciated. Or words of encouragement if you are also going through something similar.
2024.05.20 02:34 McSkrong How do you decide if a new word is actually a word?
TLDR- When do you actually count a new word? Is there a certain number of times they need to repeat it, a certain context you’re looking for, etc?
And bonus TLDR question- Is it common for many new words to be similar (ie all “b” words)?
We have an almost 17mo who isn’t really talking yet. Our pediatrician said if she hasn’t started and doesn’t have x number of words (I forget the exact number) at her 18 month appt then they’ll refer us to early intervention, which is great. If she needs early intervention we absolutely want her to get it.
So over the last 5-10 days I am pretty sure she’s gone from 0 words to 6+ words. The main issue is that several of them are very similar- bubble was first (buh-bo), then followed by bird, ball, and broom. We also have woof woof, mama, and dada.. and as of today, cheese, I think. So far all the b words seem to be distinct even though they sound similar. As in she’s pointing at the object and saying the word slightly differently (ie “ba” for ball and “boo/bwoo” for broom). She will generally not repeat after you, but if she sees the object she will point to it, say the word, then often will do the “more” sign which she has co-opted to mean “I want that,” lol.
So yeah, obviously we want her to be talking and we know there’s a language explosion around this time, but what does that really look like? We don’t want to count words if she’s not really saying them and potentially miss out on early intervention that she might need. I’m sure her doctor will clarify this at the next appointment but I wanted to hear from other parents, too! TIA.
ETA if it matters, she’s had mama and dada since 9ish months, and she knows I’m mama and her dad is dada, but hasn’t used the words to refer to us until like, today.
submitted by McSkrong to toddlers [link] [comments]
And bonus TLDR question- Is it common for many new words to be similar (ie all “b” words)?
We have an almost 17mo who isn’t really talking yet. Our pediatrician said if she hasn’t started and doesn’t have x number of words (I forget the exact number) at her 18 month appt then they’ll refer us to early intervention, which is great. If she needs early intervention we absolutely want her to get it.
So over the last 5-10 days I am pretty sure she’s gone from 0 words to 6+ words. The main issue is that several of them are very similar- bubble was first (buh-bo), then followed by bird, ball, and broom. We also have woof woof, mama, and dada.. and as of today, cheese, I think. So far all the b words seem to be distinct even though they sound similar. As in she’s pointing at the object and saying the word slightly differently (ie “ba” for ball and “boo/bwoo” for broom). She will generally not repeat after you, but if she sees the object she will point to it, say the word, then often will do the “more” sign which she has co-opted to mean “I want that,” lol.
So yeah, obviously we want her to be talking and we know there’s a language explosion around this time, but what does that really look like? We don’t want to count words if she’s not really saying them and potentially miss out on early intervention that she might need. I’m sure her doctor will clarify this at the next appointment but I wanted to hear from other parents, too! TIA.
ETA if it matters, she’s had mama and dada since 9ish months, and she knows I’m mama and her dad is dada, but hasn’t used the words to refer to us until like, today.
2024.05.20 02:25 throw-me-away-there 29 [M4A] The more you hate, the more chances of winning
Hello! Naghahanap lang ng friend na sabaw like me. Magsama sama tayong mga latak ng lipunan. Chzz.
About me:
-favorite color is white (color of my cleanliness is next to hapiness)
-Nagtatarot reading (sasabihin ko lagi sayo na magresign ka na)
-Artist and nagdodraw (gawa tayo ng mga planong drawing lang)
-Maeffort magreply (laging may emoji or may extended letters para mafeel mo na gusto kitang kausap)
-99% disinfectant (di lang pampamilya pangsports pa)
About you:
-favorite color mo dapat ay black, pede na ring brown
-favorite food mo ay sinigang
-favorite person mo ay ako
submitted by throw-me-away-there to PhR4Friends [link] [comments]
About me:
-favorite color is white (color of my cleanliness is next to hapiness)
-Nagtatarot reading (sasabihin ko lagi sayo na magresign ka na)
-Artist and nagdodraw (gawa tayo ng mga planong drawing lang)
-Maeffort magreply (laging may emoji or may extended letters para mafeel mo na gusto kitang kausap)
-99% disinfectant (di lang pampamilya pangsports pa)
- 2-storey, 44 sqm, pede financing thru pagibig
About you:
- Nobody is imperfect (kaya dapat perfect ka)
-favorite color mo dapat ay black, pede na ring brown
-favorite food mo ay sinigang
-favorite person mo ay ako
2024.05.20 02:23 NotSoSlimShady1001 The Spirit of a Predator - Chapter 25: An Open Door
[ First / Previous ]
Memory Transcription Subject: Hileen, Krakotl Fugitive Recovery Agent
Date [standardized human time]: November 28th, 2136
It'd been a while since I sat in Marlig's office for a talk face-to-face. Given the agency's secluded location at the edge of the downtown region, it was a chore to drop by when it wasn't for business, but I'd deemed the matter at hand to be worth my time.
I passed by Nampi at her desk on my way to the door and she gave me a coy glare as I carried on. Trying to ignore her risible ear waggle, I turned the corner to the door with my boss’s name painted on the glass panel where I could hear the frantic crumpling of paper.
Quietly, I entered Marlig's office without prompt as I knew he hated to be spooked by knocking. My mentor was surprisingly spry for a bird at his age, sorting through papers with one wing and an eye while using his talons with the other to set away the papers he had splayed out.
“Hileen!” he chirped. “Glad you could make it in today. I was just finishing up my paperwork. Take a seat.”
It was always nice to hear him drop the professional motif for a more grandfatherly attitude when speaking in person. I did as he suggested and took a seat while he grumbled to himself over the sorting. My eye caught a few of the old contracts he was rifling through and saw that some dated back to his days as an agent.
Eventually, he left some sitting out as he sequestered the rest back into their files, sorted by a dichotomy that only he and Nampi could comprehend fully. He motioned with a wing for me to peruse and I turned the first one to face me to find it was my first contract, signed by me in a sloppy fashion. “This takes me back a couple of years.”
“Slick bastard thought he could get away on a forklift but you showed him! Certainly more exciting than my first day!”
“Mm-hmm. And it was when I nearly got impaled that you had the idea to commission all of us utility vests.”
He chuckled, “I really should’ve done so sooner. Cuts and scratches were already a risk, but a forklift was a new one!”
I flipped through the pages of each report, finding that Marlig's notes were filled with praises of my work. There were highs and lows, but I was flattered to find that the grizzled krakotl held my performance in such high regard.
“Flawless interception!” read one footnote about me catching a runner. “Couldn't have done it better myself!”
Marlig waited patiently as I browsed quickly through each page, realizing more and more how the notes also marked improvements in my work. How I found it easier to talk down a rowdy client, or apprehend them in the case that they were beyond helping on my part. Flowery language plastered most pages with him fawning over my work as a doting father would to his prodigal child.
The trend took a sharp turn as the notes became fewer and more critical the closer the dates reached to the present. I brushed the others aside with a wing to peruse the final paper. “And this…”
“Is Tac. Your latest contract. The most recent in a line of declining performance since the interview. This has become a pattern, Hileen, and its consequences are beginning to reach beyond yourself. Paji and Vesek resigned recently for personal reasons, which leaves us even less hands on deck than before. That's four people to cover the entire municipal region, and maybe even beyond, should needs arise. Three, if we include this little probation I have you on.”
“What was I supposed to do? Marlig, these ‘jobs’ you've got us working on overstep the contracts we were signed on with. Our job is to make sure people obey their court-mandated duties, not drag them off to the facilities ourselves!”
“... So the trip we took to the facilities did bother you.”
A sigh clicked in my throat as he reminded me. “Is that what happens to the people we take in, Marlig? Is that what would've happened to your wife?”
His feathers ruffled.
“That's what happens to those who are too dangerous to the general public to be left roaming free. Not everyone we deal with winds up there, but everyone can be subject to it. Miskela sued for her exoneration and proved in court that she was not diseased. I brought you there to show you how it helps the people, but I see now that it was a mistake. I understand why you were so perturbed, really, but it's how things have been for centuries. It's how we've protected ourselves from the dangers out there.”
“You were willing to let Barsul be interned there, too.”
Marlig flinched and sighed as he swept the papers towards himself once I'd signaled I was done. He turned one eye to me while he sorted them.
“There's no room for favoritism, girl. I negotiated for him to be allowed to walk free, and look where that got me. That boy - your neighbor - suffered the consequences of my nepotism. So too would the girl, had nobody intervened.”
“Like Richard.”
“The human, yes. Or you. Or the police. Where does this sudden obsession with humans come from, anyway? I get notifications of you talking about the acceptance of them all the time on forums.”
“Does it even need explaining?”
“Well, I guess not, no, but it's certainly an about-face from the way you used to talk about them with me beforehand.”
“People can change, for better or worse. Which one I fall under remains to be seen.”
Marlig stroked at the plumage on his neck as he finished his sorting. “I hope it's the former, for your sake. Was there any reason you came to talk, or were you just checking that I hadn't gone senile?”
“Well, I was hoping to borrow your secretary for the evening.”
He perked up while his eyes narrowed and he laced his fingers together with curiosity. “You… want to spend an evening with Nampi?”
“It's not what you're insinuating, but yes.”
“I was insinuating nothing,” he warbled coyly. “Go ahead and take her, and make sure to split the bill at dinner.”
“Pain-in-the-ass geezer. I'll keep in touch if your friend causes any more trouble.”
“Keep in touch regardless. Miskela and I get lonely in our old age,” he called back. “Take care.”
I stepped out into the hallway and turned toward the desk where I could hear the secretary's claws tapping furtively at her keyboard. Nampi sat silently with her ears and tail in a relaxed position that implied a bored demeanor. There was barely any response as I stood before her, waiting politely for her acknowledgment that never came.
Hesitantly, I cleared my throat.
An ear raised in acknowledgement, but her focus remained on the screen of her computer. “Mhm?”
“Do you…?”
Her ear rotated toward me, though she still maintained a passive attitude as she continued to glare mindlessly at the monitor.
“Are you free this evening?”
“Well, I'm quite booked, I believe. Why do you ask?”
I was surprised at her curt, dry tone. She hadn't spoken with me like this since we first got to know one another.
“Well,” I started. “I realized something. Every time we went out, whether it was clubbing, or dinner, or even walking around the parks, you always footed the bill. And so…”
Slowly, her other ear perked up and I saw her keystrokes slow down as she listened in.
“I wanted to return the favor?”
Her lips smacked as she opened her mouth, though paused before she spoke. “How could you possibly do that?”
“With a little gesture of friendship.”
Nampi's horizontal pupil turned up toward me and her tail twitched.
I continued, “So that belt you're wearing? It's the same belt you've worn since we first met. And I know you're the pragmatic type who'd never spend a credit more than she needs to, except for all the times you do"- her ears twitched in indignance -"I wanted to see about getting you a little something… extra?”
Her paws raised from the keyboard and she leaned in, resting her snout on her palms. “Go on.”
The bubbly venlil's tail sold out her collected facade as it twitched with anticipation. She was cornered and she didn't even know it yet.
“Well, I found just the place on the other side of town where we can start. It's a place almost as rich and indulgent as yourself.”
“The Platinum Paw? I mean3”
Her ears folded back in embarrassment as she cracked. She wasn't cut out for acting anyway.
“So that's what it's called! Jeez, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was called. Now what do you say? We go over there and find you something nice—”
I hadn’t even finished my thought before Nampi had grabbed her bag and was out the door, giving me a playful tail flick that said come and get me.
The place I suggested was in a shopping center on the opposite side of town, though easily accessible because of its proximity to the transport rails. Nampi had insisted on grabbing something to eat beforehand and so now gleefully bit into a bundle of stalks that had been “grilled” as explained from the food truck we'd stopped at.
Her tail flicked back and forth with her usual enthusiasm as we entered the massive complex of stores. The roofless plan allowed the natural, orange sun to flood the upper levels while artificial lighting illuminated the ground level wherever the light couldn't reach.
The place was built in the last decade by the previous City Magister in a bid for popularity, though ultimately for naught as he would lose the vote following a scandal involving an iftali priestess and a carved bar of soap. I had to say that despite being sick in the head, he sure had a great sense of decor.
Nampi snacked away, joining me in admiring the scenery as we continued to the place I’d planned out for us. Aimless chatter all melded together into a single, thrumming murmur as pedestrians navigated the many levels and stores offered in the place.
A troupe of children passed by us, held in a chain of tails and arms as they were escorted by a pair of venlil who I assumed were students and teachers on a school trip. I caught a whiff of a sweet, aromatic breeze and found it to come from a perfume shop on the same level as us; naturally, venlil were not to be found inside.
We passed a fountain where a couple sat on the edge, their tails twined together as they giggled and flirted. I turned and caught Nampi watching them as well, though she awkwardly returned to sucking the remains of her meal from her claws when we made eye contact. Her ears lifted when I raised a wing to signal to the store we were going to stop at first.
“Platinum Paw, The Greatest Fashion Emporium For Everyone!”
The title alone was painfully cliche, taken to the tenth power by the brightly lit store taking up three department slots. Despite the flashy exterior, though, it was the best place to shop for belts, brooches, and bracelets alike. Customers who looked like they earned my yearly salary in a week browsed the higher end brands while I brought my friend to the section I wanted to show her.
Her ears were held up as we stood together next to a shelf chock full of fashionable bags and bandoliers of every variety.
“Pick one,” I told her.
Nampi's ears shot to a straight pose in surprise, “Any?”
“Within reason. I've got a few extra credits to blow and I know nobody better to spend it on.”
With an inviting headtilt, I let Nampi peruse the shelves at her leisure. Her lips pursed together and her tail flicked with glee as she fingered at every piece that caught her eye. I chuckled at her outburst of enthusiasm while turning to find my own items to gloss over.
A breeze from outside nipped at my beak while I considered what I’d like to purchase. The place dripped with an atmosphere of faux hospitality, from the bright blue-stained floorboards to the radio prattling off advertisements in a sickeningly sweet tone to the faint, fruity aroma of scented cleaner. It was oppressive as only a fissan-owned company could be to the senses.
What I wouldn’t pay to see how a human would fare in such an environment.
I knew they were social creatures at least, but I had no doubt that the predatory senses of a human, so honed to hunting, would get overstimulated in this center of gaudy indulgence. Knowing I was something of a predator myself made me sympathize provided that even I had to squint to keep the pale lights inside from searing my eyes. I could only imagine how the arboreal eyes of a Terran would fare. I was so lost in thought imagining how lost the Terrans would be that I could almost ignore the obnoxious giggling and metallic rattling coming from behind me.
Risking a peek at the source, into my sight came a pair of venlil, one a male carrying a pair of bags as well as a couple more strapped to his belt. The bored expression in his eyes was not one of a man who was in high spirits. The other venlil was a woman who was the source of the noise.
Her mottled gray pelt was accented by a tasteful belt design, free of almost any practical functions but not flashy or excessive in garnishment either. At least, that’s what I would say, were it not for the braid of beads that dangled on the belt, jingling with each bounce of the lively woman’s stride. It was clear that such a gaudy accessory was intended to draw attention to her, though why was a mystery. Certainly, the shiny braids seemed designed as decoration first and practical second.
She turned about and I faced back to my browsing before she could catch me staring. Nampi was nowhere in sight, though I figured she was somewhere behind the shelf, sifting through every accessory on the section I'd suggested.
Clink.
Something pelted to my immediate right. I tilted my head to spot a tree nut shell clattering to the floor. Without being able to guess where it came from, I had to wonder what could've launched it over this way. Even with my keen eyesight, nobody in the crowd seemed to be a suspect.
Clink.
Another shell pelted my vicinity, ricocheting off of the floor and hitting the shelf I was standing next to. I ruffled my feathers in frustration - clearly, someone was trying to get my attention, though I couldn't make out who it was. Out of the corner of my vision, the woman from before eyed me curiously as I looked about, though I wasn't interested in engaging with her.
Thwack.
One more shell came flying and, unfortunately, the aim on this one was true, nailing me on the beak. Irritated, I stormed out of the store to find the source of the instigator. I scanned over the bodies to find anyone who could've been responsible for this indignity, eventually concluding that it came from the dining area across the walkway.
Whoever was responsible was in for an earful and I was already structuring which of the offender's family members would be acceptable as fodder for stray words. As I approached, I found the tables were mostly empty save for one, which made my heart begin to drop as I met eyes with the only occupant. Suddenly, I was much less inclined to hurl insults.
“Oh, hi there!” Qitel called out in a sickly sweet tone. “Come, take a seat! We have much to discuss!”
The Exterminator clutched a bag of tree nuts in his claws, a pile of discarded shells already gathered on the table next to him. He grabbed another as I approached, effortlessly prying the shell in half between two claws and tossed the contents into his mouth. “Good protein, these,” he commented as I sat down.
“Must be for that good arm you've got there,” I mumbled. I caught sight of a couple of bags beneath his chair, seemingly from one of the tech stores contained within the center.
“Bah, it's guesswork. So how are you? I haven't heard from you since we worked together!”
“I was just spending time with a friend, shopping and enjoying my time off.”
“Your time off? Oh, am I interrupting something?”
His snide tone irked me, though now wasn’t the time for interjections. “You are, Qitel,” I replied with no shortage of vitriol in my tone. “But I see no harm in chatting for a bit.”
“Good, because I have some merchandise”- he reached into his belt pocket and deposited a couple of items onto the table -“and you’re just the person to look into it, human sympathizer.”
I drew a terse breath in shock, but my worries were quelled when I considered that if Qitel had the power to do anything about it, he would’ve done so instead of approaching me so discreetly. A glance down at the item on the table showed that he was presenting what looked to be a tracker as well as a personal drive. “Found in the garbage,” he told me.
“The guild resorts to dumpster diving when they already have such a bloated budget now?”
“No, featherbrain, I have decided to keep this for myself. These items were found together, sealed in a plastic pouch, and placed in a garbage bin. The city has bans against electronics being placed into public bins, and so I was curious why this wound up in there. Managed to get my coworker, a techie, to crack it open and…”
Qitel reached into his belt again, glowering at me with the same condescending gaze he’d given me when I first saw his face. He seemed to revel in digging for the item as slowly as possible to waste my time. Finally, he found whatever he was looking for and revealed it as a printed piece of paper, folded into eighths. The snobby yotul threw the unfurled paper on the table and rolled it toward me.
I craned my neck to look at the parchment, though I was immediately perplexed by the text on it; it appeared to be some sort of form, going by the boxes with words on the inside, followed by blank lines. “Found on the drive, here,” Qitel told me, jabbing a claw to the storage. “Translator shows it as Terran writing.”
Drawing my holopad from my satchel, I held it over the paper with the translator to get an understanding. Surely enough, the language on it came up positive as a variant of Terran writing and I was affirmed in it being a form of some sort based on the wording of the text. The boxes seemed like an odd sort of job application, asking for the typical name, contacts, and prior work experiences, but quickly took a strange turn as it began asking for where their home on Earth was prior to arrival, what family they had on Venlil Prime if any, and where they worked, implying that they were seeking individuals who were already employed.
I knew little about human employment methods, but I didn’t imagine that sourcing individuals from other jobs was the most efficient way to gain a workforce. Terran service industries already dotted the planet while many humans also found work in local environments. So what was the angle that the creator of this application was going for?
Most concerningly was that the paper had no insignia, identifying marks, or noted address to return the form to. “And where did you find it again?”
“In the garbage, alongside this intact tracker that was activated at the time of recovery. Y’know, when I was dumpster diving. Text on the document showed it was addressed to one ‘Choctaw Nexus’.”
“A pseudonym of some sort?”
“Clearly. Short sorting through the archives shows the first name traces back to the group out east - perhaps you've heard about them. How the name and the items we have here are connected is beyond my understanding, but-”
“Well, this has been an absolutely riveting discussion about your collection of trash, Qitel,” I told him as I stood up to leave. “But this really sounds like an issue to be resolved by your fellow guildsmen.”
The sound of another shell splitting rang out as I turned away.
“I'm not through talking with you, predator.”
The sting as a piece nailed me in the back of the head prompted me to whirl back around, sticking my beak in the insolent yotul's snout. “Perhaps you've forgotten, little man,” I cooed in an equally bittersweet tone to the one he gave me before. “The krakotl never had a problem with settling issues the old-fashioned way before the interview. Try me and find out why I'm in the line of work I am.”
“Oh, we wouldn't want that in such a"- he waved his paw to a group of passersby who had stopped to gawk at my display -”public forum. Please, contain yourself.”
I had to force the feathers on my back to settle and I raised my head away from him. “What else is it you wanted, then?”
“Well, I'd appreciate if you took this merchandise off my paws,” he told me as he brushed the electronics and printout toward me.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you're closer to the humans than I'd ever care to be, and may be able to find out who this Choctaw Nexus is. Something about the package just feels… off. And I know when to trust my feelings. Besides, we both know that you know where Tac is, don't we?”
“I don't-”
“We have videographic evidence that you conspired with a human - of the aforementioned squatters, no less - and let the kid escape. You're not as sneaky as you think, and if we find this ‘Choctaw Nexus’ turns out to be a bad actor that can be traced back to them - and by extension, you - well, there’d be no talking down my boss from having you dealt with. By helping me find out who this is, you may yet be able to clear your name of any wrongdoing.”
I clenched my beak tightly to maintain a straight face. Qitel stood up with a flourish and discarded the bag he was carrying in a bin.
“See, the krakotl were never special for using threats and bullying to get results. It's because you were good at killing predators,” he jeered. “Now, if you don't mind, this primitive has appointments to attend to… old lady who got trampled courtesy of the humans and all. You stay out of trouble, Hileen, and stay in touch.”
The self-assured marsupial melded into the crowd in a matter of seconds, leaving me with a table containing dumpster trophies and a pile of shells. Reluctantly, I swept the shells into my wing and dumped them into the bin before gathering the other two items he'd left me and stuffing them into my bag. I'd been gone from Nampi long enough and she would notice my absence before long.
Crossing the walkway again, I could spot from where I stood that Nampi was indeed still in the Platinum Paw. I approached, and soon I found that while she didn't seem to have noticed me stepping away, she was definitely in a soured mood based on the sagging of her ears and tail. With my talons clacking on the floorboards, I hustled to her side and her mood chippered up ever so slightly as she heard me approach.
I chimed in, “Find anything?”
“Everything. I want everything, Red, and I can't decide on what I want. They all just look so great!”
From behind, a voice called out, “Nampi!”
We both jumped at the exclamation and turned about to spot the venlil lady I'd seen before spring from behind the shelf. The man poked his head from behind the shelf too, though less enthusiastically and with yet another bag in his clutches. My friend's eyes widened in surprise with her tail and ears perking up in kind. With a light in her eyes, she exclaimed, “Nalek!”
The two embraced with shrill squeals and laughter as Nalek's accompaniment and I traded awkward glances.
“It's been too long!”
“You never stayed in contact!”
The women exchanged giddy greetings and the pompous stranger turned to me, leering over me as though she was sizing me up.
“Who's your friend here?”
“Oh she's actually my-...”
Nampi paused for a moment, looking back to me.
“Yeah, she's a friend.”
“A friend,” Nalek repeated while her eyes flicked between Nampi and I. “Right.”
Somehow, I get the impression that that was judgemental.
“I'm Hileen, by the way,” I chirped, “if names are to be exchanged.”
“Hileen, that's a lovely name! And such plumage to match, it's a wonder you aren't swarmed by suitors!”
Internally, I groaned at the notion. The idea of being approached by someone to state their interest in me made me queasy, to say the least. Thankfully, I never had that issue growing up as most of the other drakes in school were too busy chasing girls who didn't have a lousy pigmentation mutation such as myself.
“I'm flattered,” I told Nalek before turning to the man whose name had yet to be introduced. “May we get your name?”
“Sask.”
His response was succinct and tonally flat, though there was a brief silence as I expected him to elaborate. Nalek's beads jingled as she lashed him on the calf with her tail.
“I'm Sask, Nalek's fiancée,” he added, throwing her a look to see if she was satisfied.
Nampi gasped with her paws over her snout. “Fiancée! Nalek, you're getting married and you never even told me!”
“Well, I felt a little guilty since it technically broke our pact we made when we were pups. You remember that?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? ‘Let she who bonds through betrothal first be cast out unto the world for all to admonish her!’”
Sask and I both gave inquisitive expressions. “You two spoke like that as pups?” Sask asked.
“Well, I'm paraphrasing,” Nampi admitted with a playful ear waggle. “But you get the gist.”
“Indeed, they do, sweet Nampi. Now, may I ask what you're doing bringing your avian friend here into this store on this fine claw?”
“Oh, no no, she's the one treating me! Isn't that right, Red?”
I saw her tail twitch and was sure it took restraint not to tickle my neck with it as we stood before her old friend.
“She's been a good friend,” I explained. “So I wanted to reverse the roles for once and treat her to something myself.”
Nampi skipped over to me and wrapped her arm around me, glancing back to her old friend. “See? We'd all be so lucky to have a… friend like her.”
“So I've witnessed. But perhaps you're a bit stuck, as I've seen you prancing up and down these aisles for a while, no? Maybe you don't know what you want?”
“Nalek, you know I've never been good about making my mind up.”
“Some things never change, you ditz. Tell you what: you and Sask go find us a seat and we can catch up all we'd like when we're not taking up aisle space, yes? So shoo! I'll help Hileen here pick one out for you!”
With a bored grunt, Sask made off with the goods he had strapped to himself, followed by Nampi who gave me one more playful tail flick before dashing off into the crowd. I looked back to the mottled snout of Nalek who watched her friend wander off with a wistful glance.
“She was my first, you know.”
“Your what now.”
“Love. Way back when we were growing from pups into young adults back in private education, we explored much together. We saw each other through a lot, including the less savory parts of finding a mate. When Nampi realized it wasn't the boys she was into, she turned to me, and I offered my hand as her stalwart companion… to a point.”
“You weren't interested in her the same way?”
“I'd grown up seeing her as a sister of sorts, so ultimately, when we split it off, we stayed close as friends and she never seemed to be bothered by it. She struggled to find others in school who had the same interests as herself, but she never fussed about it.”
Nalek's claws browsed over a set of pouched bandoliers made with intricate embroidering. “Have you two… spent the night together? Alone?”
Spiritually, I reeled from the inquiry. The whiplash from that question was equitable to being smacked by a human. “Wha- why? How's that pertinent to the subject at hand?”
“That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me,” she purred with a smug glance my way.
I didn't need to begin to list the different ways such a question was violating to our privacy, and yet this woman was treating it like a game.
“Not really your concern, ma'am.”
Nalek chuckled as she picked out one of the bandoliers and inspected it with her claws. “I'd like to think that she and I still have that old connection, despite everything. And to that end, I know that she's no slag and doesn't trust easy. To see her be so vulnerable around you and to talk so highly of someone who's clearly below her income level as a predator…”
She stretched the bandolier out to appreciate the design in its entirety.
“Well, that's something special. Here"- she foisted the accessory into my wings as I stood gobsmacked -"this just screams her name.”
“This is, like, double my budget.”
“Love don't come cheap, darling. You wanna see good things happen, sometimes you've gotta step out of your comfort zone and grasp for it!”
“I'm being lectured by a rich woman on finances.”
“It's a philosophy that goes beyond money, ‘Red.’ The humans have a saying, in their horrendously predatory nomenclature, that contains a kernel of truth: ‘you miss every shot you don't take’.”
Yep, that's definitely a human phrase.
Nalek's steely braid rattled with every flick of the tail as we proceeded through the checkout.
“You want things to change between you and her?” she continued. “Don't just wait for it to happen.”
She let the conversation rest there as we finished the purchase, possibly to let me recuperate mentally from the damage done to my account. Outside, we found our respective partners sitting at a table with Sask looking up in boredom as Nampi chatted away, though she immediately shut up and turned to me with excited flicks of her tail as she saw what I was carrying.
I held it toward her and she happily shot to her feet, effortlessly removing the tags with her claws and clipping it to her belt. Nalek clapped and waggled her tail as the giddy lady did a whirl about to let us admire the accessory. While I'd have preferred one with pockets to give it a more practical use, I decided to let Nalek have the victory as our mutual friend clearly enjoyed it.
The rest of the paw was a blur as the two friends chatted without end until Sask eventually reminded his betrothed that they had a schedule to attend to. Though Nalek offered to call us a taxi home as a gesture of kindness, I saw through her ruse to determine that she was trying to pull a fast one on me - the clever ear flick she gave as we boarded the automated vehicle sold it for me.
We sat in the seats as the vehicle took the express ride home.
Nampi cleared her throat before she spoke, “Thank you for taking some time to spend with me, I know you've had a lot less free time as of late.”
“It's a prison of my own design, if I must be honest. A feedback loop of working a job that doesn't guarantee a paycheck to pay for rent that keeps going up, and thus needing to work more.”
The venlil giggled and chided me, “You really should've stayed in university.”
“There's a lotta 'should haves’ that've led me to this point. No use wondering what could have been.”
“There's always a use for wondering what could have been, Hileen.”
She wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
“Every decision I make, I always wonder what I could've done differently that it'd have turned out better,” she explained as she waved her free paw to the sky. “It's how you grow as a person, Red.”
Her silky pelt felt heavenly in contrast to the chilly air from outside, making it hard to let her words sink in.
“You rich types seem chock full of philosophy. I wonder if I'll become a brooding orator when I get some cash to my name.”
The cab filled with laughter as we veered around the final corner to my neighborhood, as it was the closest stop. The door popped open accompanied by a chime from the drone, signaling for me to depart.
But before my talons could even hit the pavement, I felt Nampi's scrawny arms wrap around my waist and she let out a pitiful mewl again.
“You don't need to get off here,” she told me with a pouty expression. “We can spend the rest of the paw at my place.”
“I'd love it, but I need to water my plants and get the month's bills sorted before they're due. Again.”
One claw at a time, I plucked her paws from around my waist and the childish venlil conceded, giving me another ear waggle as I departed. “I'll see you tomorrow?” I asked her.
“If you still have eyes by then, then you can bet your ass!”
“I still don't gamble.”
“You'll come around to it eventually.”
I shut the door to the taxi and watched as it carted away the one venlil who I ever truly felt on the same wavelength as. Fiddling with the lock felt like more of a chore than usual at this time as I felt a little voice tugging at the back of my head.
“You miss every shot you don't take.”
The lock felt jammed as I began to jiggle it more vigorously with the electric key. Either the RFID or NFC readers were messed up, as the lock refused to accept my key. I looked up and down the street, though Nampi was now long gone for me to rescind my earlier rejection.
“Every decision I make, I wonder what I could've done differently.”
The door rattled as I grew more and more infuriated with the lock. Qitel's smug expression as he threatened me so boldly in public played back in my head, and I wondered what would've happened had I decided to go through with insulting his mother. Better yet, I wondered what could've been had I not backed down in the face of his unflinching confidence.
Bzzt. The lock rejected my key again.
“Raagh! You fucking useless hunk of junk!”
I squawked in anger and kicked against the door, careless of the consequences of having Markol back down here to admonish another of his tenants for causing a ruckus. The walls were surprisingly sturdy for how ineffective the venlil architecture looked on the surface and I reeled back in pain as my leg throbbed.
Click.
I looked to my left to see that it wasn't my door that came open, but that of the twins. The door cracked open ever so slightly, no doubt nudged by the force of my tirade and I sighed. Nobody was expected to be home at this time, with Vili being away and Luka leaving early to get a head start.
Luka had been given a stern talking-to by the landlord for allowing one of those cats into his apartment through neglect, and I was disappointed that he seemed to have not learned his lesson this time. In fact, it seemed he hadn't even thought to lock the door this time.
I took it upon myself to shut the door for him before turning back to my own apartment door. Grasping the key with one talon, I turned it ever so gently, though the lock still refused to give in.
With a bit more force, the torsion applied to the key felt as though it should've snapped it by now. Markol sure didn't waste any expense for the security for this place, doubtlessly as a result of his history in electronic security, but I wished now that he had provided a way in that didn't rely on privately sourced locks.
Considering my options as I stood trapped outside, I realized that I had never gotten around to paying for a new lock for Tadi. I'd considered contacting her to inform her that Tac had made it out of town safely, but that'd involve also telling her that her son was now in the care of humans, as if that was a better outcome to her.
Stepping out front, I realized that there was one more option I hadn't considered: my window. I usually forgot to lock it after I was through letting air circulate and I was silently grateful to myself for this absentmindedness now more than ever. Sticking a foot on the threshold, I lifted myself in a way that'd allow me to have leverage to force the window open.
The window made me fight for every inch, but I felt a strange satisfaction as it slowly opened up into an entrance that I could squeeze my way through. I let out a sigh as my talons clicked against the cool floor and slid the window shut.
I laid my satchel on the couch and turned back to the door, ready to unleash my fury on the disobedient object. But as I reached for the lock to manually open the door, I noted that the lights on the RFID interface both flashed at once, blinking erratically. Red and green flickered without rhyme or reason, indicating that it was both active and inactive.
As pretty as the colors were, I now knew that Markol's locks were not as reliable as he had touted them about: typically, such would not occur unless the device was damaged deliberately, and yet nothing indicated that I'd had uninvited guests. One could pray that those cats didn't secretly know how to cobble together an ECM jammer, but my personal wager was on faulty equipment.
Settling in, I browsed my favorite soaps on the television. For what was intended to be a day of relaxation and show of affection for a friend, I found myself rather wound up over all the things that added up. Couples threw around flowery words and swooned over one another on screen as I felt the tension diffuse. My holopad rang and I turned it over to spot that Nampi was informing me that she'd arrived home safely.
>>> Feels empty here, all alone.
She made sure to drive the point home with a sticker of a venlil making a pouty expression.
Next time, I thought to myself, I'll get it right for you, Nampi.
[ First / Previous ]
submitted by NotSoSlimShady1001 to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
Memory Transcription Subject: Hileen, Krakotl Fugitive Recovery Agent
Date [standardized human time]: November 28th, 2136
It'd been a while since I sat in Marlig's office for a talk face-to-face. Given the agency's secluded location at the edge of the downtown region, it was a chore to drop by when it wasn't for business, but I'd deemed the matter at hand to be worth my time.
I passed by Nampi at her desk on my way to the door and she gave me a coy glare as I carried on. Trying to ignore her risible ear waggle, I turned the corner to the door with my boss’s name painted on the glass panel where I could hear the frantic crumpling of paper.
Quietly, I entered Marlig's office without prompt as I knew he hated to be spooked by knocking. My mentor was surprisingly spry for a bird at his age, sorting through papers with one wing and an eye while using his talons with the other to set away the papers he had splayed out.
“Hileen!” he chirped. “Glad you could make it in today. I was just finishing up my paperwork. Take a seat.”
It was always nice to hear him drop the professional motif for a more grandfatherly attitude when speaking in person. I did as he suggested and took a seat while he grumbled to himself over the sorting. My eye caught a few of the old contracts he was rifling through and saw that some dated back to his days as an agent.
Eventually, he left some sitting out as he sequestered the rest back into their files, sorted by a dichotomy that only he and Nampi could comprehend fully. He motioned with a wing for me to peruse and I turned the first one to face me to find it was my first contract, signed by me in a sloppy fashion. “This takes me back a couple of years.”
“Slick bastard thought he could get away on a forklift but you showed him! Certainly more exciting than my first day!”
“Mm-hmm. And it was when I nearly got impaled that you had the idea to commission all of us utility vests.”
He chuckled, “I really should’ve done so sooner. Cuts and scratches were already a risk, but a forklift was a new one!”
I flipped through the pages of each report, finding that Marlig's notes were filled with praises of my work. There were highs and lows, but I was flattered to find that the grizzled krakotl held my performance in such high regard.
“Flawless interception!” read one footnote about me catching a runner. “Couldn't have done it better myself!”
Marlig waited patiently as I browsed quickly through each page, realizing more and more how the notes also marked improvements in my work. How I found it easier to talk down a rowdy client, or apprehend them in the case that they were beyond helping on my part. Flowery language plastered most pages with him fawning over my work as a doting father would to his prodigal child.
The trend took a sharp turn as the notes became fewer and more critical the closer the dates reached to the present. I brushed the others aside with a wing to peruse the final paper. “And this…”
“Is Tac. Your latest contract. The most recent in a line of declining performance since the interview. This has become a pattern, Hileen, and its consequences are beginning to reach beyond yourself. Paji and Vesek resigned recently for personal reasons, which leaves us even less hands on deck than before. That's four people to cover the entire municipal region, and maybe even beyond, should needs arise. Three, if we include this little probation I have you on.”
“What was I supposed to do? Marlig, these ‘jobs’ you've got us working on overstep the contracts we were signed on with. Our job is to make sure people obey their court-mandated duties, not drag them off to the facilities ourselves!”
“... So the trip we took to the facilities did bother you.”
A sigh clicked in my throat as he reminded me. “Is that what happens to the people we take in, Marlig? Is that what would've happened to your wife?”
His feathers ruffled.
“That's what happens to those who are too dangerous to the general public to be left roaming free. Not everyone we deal with winds up there, but everyone can be subject to it. Miskela sued for her exoneration and proved in court that she was not diseased. I brought you there to show you how it helps the people, but I see now that it was a mistake. I understand why you were so perturbed, really, but it's how things have been for centuries. It's how we've protected ourselves from the dangers out there.”
“You were willing to let Barsul be interned there, too.”
Marlig flinched and sighed as he swept the papers towards himself once I'd signaled I was done. He turned one eye to me while he sorted them.
“There's no room for favoritism, girl. I negotiated for him to be allowed to walk free, and look where that got me. That boy - your neighbor - suffered the consequences of my nepotism. So too would the girl, had nobody intervened.”
“Like Richard.”
“The human, yes. Or you. Or the police. Where does this sudden obsession with humans come from, anyway? I get notifications of you talking about the acceptance of them all the time on forums.”
“Does it even need explaining?”
“Well, I guess not, no, but it's certainly an about-face from the way you used to talk about them with me beforehand.”
“People can change, for better or worse. Which one I fall under remains to be seen.”
Marlig stroked at the plumage on his neck as he finished his sorting. “I hope it's the former, for your sake. Was there any reason you came to talk, or were you just checking that I hadn't gone senile?”
“Well, I was hoping to borrow your secretary for the evening.”
He perked up while his eyes narrowed and he laced his fingers together with curiosity. “You… want to spend an evening with Nampi?”
“It's not what you're insinuating, but yes.”
“I was insinuating nothing,” he warbled coyly. “Go ahead and take her, and make sure to split the bill at dinner.”
“Pain-in-the-ass geezer. I'll keep in touch if your friend causes any more trouble.”
“Keep in touch regardless. Miskela and I get lonely in our old age,” he called back. “Take care.”
I stepped out into the hallway and turned toward the desk where I could hear the secretary's claws tapping furtively at her keyboard. Nampi sat silently with her ears and tail in a relaxed position that implied a bored demeanor. There was barely any response as I stood before her, waiting politely for her acknowledgment that never came.
Hesitantly, I cleared my throat.
An ear raised in acknowledgement, but her focus remained on the screen of her computer. “Mhm?”
“Do you…?”
Her ear rotated toward me, though she still maintained a passive attitude as she continued to glare mindlessly at the monitor.
“Are you free this evening?”
“Well, I'm quite booked, I believe. Why do you ask?”
I was surprised at her curt, dry tone. She hadn't spoken with me like this since we first got to know one another.
“Well,” I started. “I realized something. Every time we went out, whether it was clubbing, or dinner, or even walking around the parks, you always footed the bill. And so…”
Slowly, her other ear perked up and I saw her keystrokes slow down as she listened in.
“I wanted to return the favor?”
Her lips smacked as she opened her mouth, though paused before she spoke. “How could you possibly do that?”
“With a little gesture of friendship.”
Nampi's horizontal pupil turned up toward me and her tail twitched.
I continued, “So that belt you're wearing? It's the same belt you've worn since we first met. And I know you're the pragmatic type who'd never spend a credit more than she needs to, except for all the times you do"- her ears twitched in indignance -"I wanted to see about getting you a little something… extra?”
Her paws raised from the keyboard and she leaned in, resting her snout on her palms. “Go on.”
The bubbly venlil's tail sold out her collected facade as it twitched with anticipation. She was cornered and she didn't even know it yet.
“Well, I found just the place on the other side of town where we can start. It's a place almost as rich and indulgent as yourself.”
“The Platinum Paw? I mean3”
Her ears folded back in embarrassment as she cracked. She wasn't cut out for acting anyway.
“So that's what it's called! Jeez, I couldn't for the life of me figure out what it was called. Now what do you say? We go over there and find you something nice—”
I hadn’t even finished my thought before Nampi had grabbed her bag and was out the door, giving me a playful tail flick that said come and get me.
The place I suggested was in a shopping center on the opposite side of town, though easily accessible because of its proximity to the transport rails. Nampi had insisted on grabbing something to eat beforehand and so now gleefully bit into a bundle of stalks that had been “grilled” as explained from the food truck we'd stopped at.
Her tail flicked back and forth with her usual enthusiasm as we entered the massive complex of stores. The roofless plan allowed the natural, orange sun to flood the upper levels while artificial lighting illuminated the ground level wherever the light couldn't reach.
The place was built in the last decade by the previous City Magister in a bid for popularity, though ultimately for naught as he would lose the vote following a scandal involving an iftali priestess and a carved bar of soap. I had to say that despite being sick in the head, he sure had a great sense of decor.
Nampi snacked away, joining me in admiring the scenery as we continued to the place I’d planned out for us. Aimless chatter all melded together into a single, thrumming murmur as pedestrians navigated the many levels and stores offered in the place.
A troupe of children passed by us, held in a chain of tails and arms as they were escorted by a pair of venlil who I assumed were students and teachers on a school trip. I caught a whiff of a sweet, aromatic breeze and found it to come from a perfume shop on the same level as us; naturally, venlil were not to be found inside.
We passed a fountain where a couple sat on the edge, their tails twined together as they giggled and flirted. I turned and caught Nampi watching them as well, though she awkwardly returned to sucking the remains of her meal from her claws when we made eye contact. Her ears lifted when I raised a wing to signal to the store we were going to stop at first.
“Platinum Paw, The Greatest Fashion Emporium For Everyone!”
The title alone was painfully cliche, taken to the tenth power by the brightly lit store taking up three department slots. Despite the flashy exterior, though, it was the best place to shop for belts, brooches, and bracelets alike. Customers who looked like they earned my yearly salary in a week browsed the higher end brands while I brought my friend to the section I wanted to show her.
Her ears were held up as we stood together next to a shelf chock full of fashionable bags and bandoliers of every variety.
“Pick one,” I told her.
Nampi's ears shot to a straight pose in surprise, “Any?”
“Within reason. I've got a few extra credits to blow and I know nobody better to spend it on.”
With an inviting headtilt, I let Nampi peruse the shelves at her leisure. Her lips pursed together and her tail flicked with glee as she fingered at every piece that caught her eye. I chuckled at her outburst of enthusiasm while turning to find my own items to gloss over.
A breeze from outside nipped at my beak while I considered what I’d like to purchase. The place dripped with an atmosphere of faux hospitality, from the bright blue-stained floorboards to the radio prattling off advertisements in a sickeningly sweet tone to the faint, fruity aroma of scented cleaner. It was oppressive as only a fissan-owned company could be to the senses.
What I wouldn’t pay to see how a human would fare in such an environment.
I knew they were social creatures at least, but I had no doubt that the predatory senses of a human, so honed to hunting, would get overstimulated in this center of gaudy indulgence. Knowing I was something of a predator myself made me sympathize provided that even I had to squint to keep the pale lights inside from searing my eyes. I could only imagine how the arboreal eyes of a Terran would fare. I was so lost in thought imagining how lost the Terrans would be that I could almost ignore the obnoxious giggling and metallic rattling coming from behind me.
Risking a peek at the source, into my sight came a pair of venlil, one a male carrying a pair of bags as well as a couple more strapped to his belt. The bored expression in his eyes was not one of a man who was in high spirits. The other venlil was a woman who was the source of the noise.
Her mottled gray pelt was accented by a tasteful belt design, free of almost any practical functions but not flashy or excessive in garnishment either. At least, that’s what I would say, were it not for the braid of beads that dangled on the belt, jingling with each bounce of the lively woman’s stride. It was clear that such a gaudy accessory was intended to draw attention to her, though why was a mystery. Certainly, the shiny braids seemed designed as decoration first and practical second.
She turned about and I faced back to my browsing before she could catch me staring. Nampi was nowhere in sight, though I figured she was somewhere behind the shelf, sifting through every accessory on the section I'd suggested.
Clink.
Something pelted to my immediate right. I tilted my head to spot a tree nut shell clattering to the floor. Without being able to guess where it came from, I had to wonder what could've launched it over this way. Even with my keen eyesight, nobody in the crowd seemed to be a suspect.
Clink.
Another shell pelted my vicinity, ricocheting off of the floor and hitting the shelf I was standing next to. I ruffled my feathers in frustration - clearly, someone was trying to get my attention, though I couldn't make out who it was. Out of the corner of my vision, the woman from before eyed me curiously as I looked about, though I wasn't interested in engaging with her.
Thwack.
One more shell came flying and, unfortunately, the aim on this one was true, nailing me on the beak. Irritated, I stormed out of the store to find the source of the instigator. I scanned over the bodies to find anyone who could've been responsible for this indignity, eventually concluding that it came from the dining area across the walkway.
Whoever was responsible was in for an earful and I was already structuring which of the offender's family members would be acceptable as fodder for stray words. As I approached, I found the tables were mostly empty save for one, which made my heart begin to drop as I met eyes with the only occupant. Suddenly, I was much less inclined to hurl insults.
“Oh, hi there!” Qitel called out in a sickly sweet tone. “Come, take a seat! We have much to discuss!”
The Exterminator clutched a bag of tree nuts in his claws, a pile of discarded shells already gathered on the table next to him. He grabbed another as I approached, effortlessly prying the shell in half between two claws and tossed the contents into his mouth. “Good protein, these,” he commented as I sat down.
“Must be for that good arm you've got there,” I mumbled. I caught sight of a couple of bags beneath his chair, seemingly from one of the tech stores contained within the center.
“Bah, it's guesswork. So how are you? I haven't heard from you since we worked together!”
“I was just spending time with a friend, shopping and enjoying my time off.”
“Your time off? Oh, am I interrupting something?”
His snide tone irked me, though now wasn’t the time for interjections. “You are, Qitel,” I replied with no shortage of vitriol in my tone. “But I see no harm in chatting for a bit.”
“Good, because I have some merchandise”- he reached into his belt pocket and deposited a couple of items onto the table -“and you’re just the person to look into it, human sympathizer.”
I drew a terse breath in shock, but my worries were quelled when I considered that if Qitel had the power to do anything about it, he would’ve done so instead of approaching me so discreetly. A glance down at the item on the table showed that he was presenting what looked to be a tracker as well as a personal drive. “Found in the garbage,” he told me.
“The guild resorts to dumpster diving when they already have such a bloated budget now?”
“No, featherbrain, I have decided to keep this for myself. These items were found together, sealed in a plastic pouch, and placed in a garbage bin. The city has bans against electronics being placed into public bins, and so I was curious why this wound up in there. Managed to get my coworker, a techie, to crack it open and…”
Qitel reached into his belt again, glowering at me with the same condescending gaze he’d given me when I first saw his face. He seemed to revel in digging for the item as slowly as possible to waste my time. Finally, he found whatever he was looking for and revealed it as a printed piece of paper, folded into eighths. The snobby yotul threw the unfurled paper on the table and rolled it toward me.
I craned my neck to look at the parchment, though I was immediately perplexed by the text on it; it appeared to be some sort of form, going by the boxes with words on the inside, followed by blank lines. “Found on the drive, here,” Qitel told me, jabbing a claw to the storage. “Translator shows it as Terran writing.”
Drawing my holopad from my satchel, I held it over the paper with the translator to get an understanding. Surely enough, the language on it came up positive as a variant of Terran writing and I was affirmed in it being a form of some sort based on the wording of the text. The boxes seemed like an odd sort of job application, asking for the typical name, contacts, and prior work experiences, but quickly took a strange turn as it began asking for where their home on Earth was prior to arrival, what family they had on Venlil Prime if any, and where they worked, implying that they were seeking individuals who were already employed.
I knew little about human employment methods, but I didn’t imagine that sourcing individuals from other jobs was the most efficient way to gain a workforce. Terran service industries already dotted the planet while many humans also found work in local environments. So what was the angle that the creator of this application was going for?
Most concerningly was that the paper had no insignia, identifying marks, or noted address to return the form to. “And where did you find it again?”
“In the garbage, alongside this intact tracker that was activated at the time of recovery. Y’know, when I was dumpster diving. Text on the document showed it was addressed to one ‘Choctaw Nexus’.”
“A pseudonym of some sort?”
“Clearly. Short sorting through the archives shows the first name traces back to the group out east - perhaps you've heard about them. How the name and the items we have here are connected is beyond my understanding, but-”
“Well, this has been an absolutely riveting discussion about your collection of trash, Qitel,” I told him as I stood up to leave. “But this really sounds like an issue to be resolved by your fellow guildsmen.”
The sound of another shell splitting rang out as I turned away.
“I'm not through talking with you, predator.”
The sting as a piece nailed me in the back of the head prompted me to whirl back around, sticking my beak in the insolent yotul's snout. “Perhaps you've forgotten, little man,” I cooed in an equally bittersweet tone to the one he gave me before. “The krakotl never had a problem with settling issues the old-fashioned way before the interview. Try me and find out why I'm in the line of work I am.”
“Oh, we wouldn't want that in such a"- he waved his paw to a group of passersby who had stopped to gawk at my display -”public forum. Please, contain yourself.”
I had to force the feathers on my back to settle and I raised my head away from him. “What else is it you wanted, then?”
“Well, I'd appreciate if you took this merchandise off my paws,” he told me as he brushed the electronics and printout toward me.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you're closer to the humans than I'd ever care to be, and may be able to find out who this Choctaw Nexus is. Something about the package just feels… off. And I know when to trust my feelings. Besides, we both know that you know where Tac is, don't we?”
“I don't-”
“We have videographic evidence that you conspired with a human - of the aforementioned squatters, no less - and let the kid escape. You're not as sneaky as you think, and if we find this ‘Choctaw Nexus’ turns out to be a bad actor that can be traced back to them - and by extension, you - well, there’d be no talking down my boss from having you dealt with. By helping me find out who this is, you may yet be able to clear your name of any wrongdoing.”
I clenched my beak tightly to maintain a straight face. Qitel stood up with a flourish and discarded the bag he was carrying in a bin.
“See, the krakotl were never special for using threats and bullying to get results. It's because you were good at killing predators,” he jeered. “Now, if you don't mind, this primitive has appointments to attend to… old lady who got trampled courtesy of the humans and all. You stay out of trouble, Hileen, and stay in touch.”
The self-assured marsupial melded into the crowd in a matter of seconds, leaving me with a table containing dumpster trophies and a pile of shells. Reluctantly, I swept the shells into my wing and dumped them into the bin before gathering the other two items he'd left me and stuffing them into my bag. I'd been gone from Nampi long enough and she would notice my absence before long.
Crossing the walkway again, I could spot from where I stood that Nampi was indeed still in the Platinum Paw. I approached, and soon I found that while she didn't seem to have noticed me stepping away, she was definitely in a soured mood based on the sagging of her ears and tail. With my talons clacking on the floorboards, I hustled to her side and her mood chippered up ever so slightly as she heard me approach.
I chimed in, “Find anything?”
“Everything. I want everything, Red, and I can't decide on what I want. They all just look so great!”
From behind, a voice called out, “Nampi!”
We both jumped at the exclamation and turned about to spot the venlil lady I'd seen before spring from behind the shelf. The man poked his head from behind the shelf too, though less enthusiastically and with yet another bag in his clutches. My friend's eyes widened in surprise with her tail and ears perking up in kind. With a light in her eyes, she exclaimed, “Nalek!”
The two embraced with shrill squeals and laughter as Nalek's accompaniment and I traded awkward glances.
“It's been too long!”
“You never stayed in contact!”
The women exchanged giddy greetings and the pompous stranger turned to me, leering over me as though she was sizing me up.
“Who's your friend here?”
“Oh she's actually my-...”
Nampi paused for a moment, looking back to me.
“Yeah, she's a friend.”
“A friend,” Nalek repeated while her eyes flicked between Nampi and I. “Right.”
Somehow, I get the impression that that was judgemental.
“I'm Hileen, by the way,” I chirped, “if names are to be exchanged.”
“Hileen, that's a lovely name! And such plumage to match, it's a wonder you aren't swarmed by suitors!”
Internally, I groaned at the notion. The idea of being approached by someone to state their interest in me made me queasy, to say the least. Thankfully, I never had that issue growing up as most of the other drakes in school were too busy chasing girls who didn't have a lousy pigmentation mutation such as myself.
“I'm flattered,” I told Nalek before turning to the man whose name had yet to be introduced. “May we get your name?”
“Sask.”
His response was succinct and tonally flat, though there was a brief silence as I expected him to elaborate. Nalek's beads jingled as she lashed him on the calf with her tail.
“I'm Sask, Nalek's fiancée,” he added, throwing her a look to see if she was satisfied.
Nampi gasped with her paws over her snout. “Fiancée! Nalek, you're getting married and you never even told me!”
“Well, I felt a little guilty since it technically broke our pact we made when we were pups. You remember that?”
“Of course! Why wouldn’t I? ‘Let she who bonds through betrothal first be cast out unto the world for all to admonish her!’”
Sask and I both gave inquisitive expressions. “You two spoke like that as pups?” Sask asked.
“Well, I'm paraphrasing,” Nampi admitted with a playful ear waggle. “But you get the gist.”
“Indeed, they do, sweet Nampi. Now, may I ask what you're doing bringing your avian friend here into this store on this fine claw?”
“Oh, no no, she's the one treating me! Isn't that right, Red?”
I saw her tail twitch and was sure it took restraint not to tickle my neck with it as we stood before her old friend.
“She's been a good friend,” I explained. “So I wanted to reverse the roles for once and treat her to something myself.”
Nampi skipped over to me and wrapped her arm around me, glancing back to her old friend. “See? We'd all be so lucky to have a… friend like her.”
“So I've witnessed. But perhaps you're a bit stuck, as I've seen you prancing up and down these aisles for a while, no? Maybe you don't know what you want?”
“Nalek, you know I've never been good about making my mind up.”
“Some things never change, you ditz. Tell you what: you and Sask go find us a seat and we can catch up all we'd like when we're not taking up aisle space, yes? So shoo! I'll help Hileen here pick one out for you!”
With a bored grunt, Sask made off with the goods he had strapped to himself, followed by Nampi who gave me one more playful tail flick before dashing off into the crowd. I looked back to the mottled snout of Nalek who watched her friend wander off with a wistful glance.
“She was my first, you know.”
“Your what now.”
“Love. Way back when we were growing from pups into young adults back in private education, we explored much together. We saw each other through a lot, including the less savory parts of finding a mate. When Nampi realized it wasn't the boys she was into, she turned to me, and I offered my hand as her stalwart companion… to a point.”
“You weren't interested in her the same way?”
“I'd grown up seeing her as a sister of sorts, so ultimately, when we split it off, we stayed close as friends and she never seemed to be bothered by it. She struggled to find others in school who had the same interests as herself, but she never fussed about it.”
Nalek's claws browsed over a set of pouched bandoliers made with intricate embroidering. “Have you two… spent the night together? Alone?”
Spiritually, I reeled from the inquiry. The whiplash from that question was equitable to being smacked by a human. “Wha- why? How's that pertinent to the subject at hand?”
“That sounds like a ‘yes’ to me,” she purred with a smug glance my way.
I didn't need to begin to list the different ways such a question was violating to our privacy, and yet this woman was treating it like a game.
“Not really your concern, ma'am.”
Nalek chuckled as she picked out one of the bandoliers and inspected it with her claws. “I'd like to think that she and I still have that old connection, despite everything. And to that end, I know that she's no slag and doesn't trust easy. To see her be so vulnerable around you and to talk so highly of someone who's clearly below her income level as a predator…”
She stretched the bandolier out to appreciate the design in its entirety.
“Well, that's something special. Here"- she foisted the accessory into my wings as I stood gobsmacked -"this just screams her name.”
“This is, like, double my budget.”
“Love don't come cheap, darling. You wanna see good things happen, sometimes you've gotta step out of your comfort zone and grasp for it!”
“I'm being lectured by a rich woman on finances.”
“It's a philosophy that goes beyond money, ‘Red.’ The humans have a saying, in their horrendously predatory nomenclature, that contains a kernel of truth: ‘you miss every shot you don't take’.”
Yep, that's definitely a human phrase.
Nalek's steely braid rattled with every flick of the tail as we proceeded through the checkout.
“You want things to change between you and her?” she continued. “Don't just wait for it to happen.”
She let the conversation rest there as we finished the purchase, possibly to let me recuperate mentally from the damage done to my account. Outside, we found our respective partners sitting at a table with Sask looking up in boredom as Nampi chatted away, though she immediately shut up and turned to me with excited flicks of her tail as she saw what I was carrying.
I held it toward her and she happily shot to her feet, effortlessly removing the tags with her claws and clipping it to her belt. Nalek clapped and waggled her tail as the giddy lady did a whirl about to let us admire the accessory. While I'd have preferred one with pockets to give it a more practical use, I decided to let Nalek have the victory as our mutual friend clearly enjoyed it.
The rest of the paw was a blur as the two friends chatted without end until Sask eventually reminded his betrothed that they had a schedule to attend to. Though Nalek offered to call us a taxi home as a gesture of kindness, I saw through her ruse to determine that she was trying to pull a fast one on me - the clever ear flick she gave as we boarded the automated vehicle sold it for me.
We sat in the seats as the vehicle took the express ride home.
Nampi cleared her throat before she spoke, “Thank you for taking some time to spend with me, I know you've had a lot less free time as of late.”
“It's a prison of my own design, if I must be honest. A feedback loop of working a job that doesn't guarantee a paycheck to pay for rent that keeps going up, and thus needing to work more.”
The venlil giggled and chided me, “You really should've stayed in university.”
“There's a lotta 'should haves’ that've led me to this point. No use wondering what could have been.”
“There's always a use for wondering what could have been, Hileen.”
She wrapped an arm around my shoulder.
“Every decision I make, I always wonder what I could've done differently that it'd have turned out better,” she explained as she waved her free paw to the sky. “It's how you grow as a person, Red.”
Her silky pelt felt heavenly in contrast to the chilly air from outside, making it hard to let her words sink in.
“You rich types seem chock full of philosophy. I wonder if I'll become a brooding orator when I get some cash to my name.”
The cab filled with laughter as we veered around the final corner to my neighborhood, as it was the closest stop. The door popped open accompanied by a chime from the drone, signaling for me to depart.
But before my talons could even hit the pavement, I felt Nampi's scrawny arms wrap around my waist and she let out a pitiful mewl again.
“You don't need to get off here,” she told me with a pouty expression. “We can spend the rest of the paw at my place.”
“I'd love it, but I need to water my plants and get the month's bills sorted before they're due. Again.”
One claw at a time, I plucked her paws from around my waist and the childish venlil conceded, giving me another ear waggle as I departed. “I'll see you tomorrow?” I asked her.
“If you still have eyes by then, then you can bet your ass!”
“I still don't gamble.”
“You'll come around to it eventually.”
I shut the door to the taxi and watched as it carted away the one venlil who I ever truly felt on the same wavelength as. Fiddling with the lock felt like more of a chore than usual at this time as I felt a little voice tugging at the back of my head.
“You miss every shot you don't take.”
The lock felt jammed as I began to jiggle it more vigorously with the electric key. Either the RFID or NFC readers were messed up, as the lock refused to accept my key. I looked up and down the street, though Nampi was now long gone for me to rescind my earlier rejection.
“Every decision I make, I wonder what I could've done differently.”
The door rattled as I grew more and more infuriated with the lock. Qitel's smug expression as he threatened me so boldly in public played back in my head, and I wondered what would've happened had I decided to go through with insulting his mother. Better yet, I wondered what could've been had I not backed down in the face of his unflinching confidence.
Bzzt. The lock rejected my key again.
“Raagh! You fucking useless hunk of junk!”
I squawked in anger and kicked against the door, careless of the consequences of having Markol back down here to admonish another of his tenants for causing a ruckus. The walls were surprisingly sturdy for how ineffective the venlil architecture looked on the surface and I reeled back in pain as my leg throbbed.
Click.
I looked to my left to see that it wasn't my door that came open, but that of the twins. The door cracked open ever so slightly, no doubt nudged by the force of my tirade and I sighed. Nobody was expected to be home at this time, with Vili being away and Luka leaving early to get a head start.
Luka had been given a stern talking-to by the landlord for allowing one of those cats into his apartment through neglect, and I was disappointed that he seemed to have not learned his lesson this time. In fact, it seemed he hadn't even thought to lock the door this time.
I took it upon myself to shut the door for him before turning back to my own apartment door. Grasping the key with one talon, I turned it ever so gently, though the lock still refused to give in.
With a bit more force, the torsion applied to the key felt as though it should've snapped it by now. Markol sure didn't waste any expense for the security for this place, doubtlessly as a result of his history in electronic security, but I wished now that he had provided a way in that didn't rely on privately sourced locks.
Considering my options as I stood trapped outside, I realized that I had never gotten around to paying for a new lock for Tadi. I'd considered contacting her to inform her that Tac had made it out of town safely, but that'd involve also telling her that her son was now in the care of humans, as if that was a better outcome to her.
Stepping out front, I realized that there was one more option I hadn't considered: my window. I usually forgot to lock it after I was through letting air circulate and I was silently grateful to myself for this absentmindedness now more than ever. Sticking a foot on the threshold, I lifted myself in a way that'd allow me to have leverage to force the window open.
The window made me fight for every inch, but I felt a strange satisfaction as it slowly opened up into an entrance that I could squeeze my way through. I let out a sigh as my talons clicked against the cool floor and slid the window shut.
I laid my satchel on the couch and turned back to the door, ready to unleash my fury on the disobedient object. But as I reached for the lock to manually open the door, I noted that the lights on the RFID interface both flashed at once, blinking erratically. Red and green flickered without rhyme or reason, indicating that it was both active and inactive.
As pretty as the colors were, I now knew that Markol's locks were not as reliable as he had touted them about: typically, such would not occur unless the device was damaged deliberately, and yet nothing indicated that I'd had uninvited guests. One could pray that those cats didn't secretly know how to cobble together an ECM jammer, but my personal wager was on faulty equipment.
Settling in, I browsed my favorite soaps on the television. For what was intended to be a day of relaxation and show of affection for a friend, I found myself rather wound up over all the things that added up. Couples threw around flowery words and swooned over one another on screen as I felt the tension diffuse. My holopad rang and I turned it over to spot that Nampi was informing me that she'd arrived home safely.
>>> Feels empty here, all alone.
She made sure to drive the point home with a sticker of a venlil making a pouty expression.
Next time, I thought to myself, I'll get it right for you, Nampi.
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