Irish daughter tattoos

Previous Part
I grabbed the back pack Bianca had left in the kitchen and waited in the living room. I had no idea what she was packing for but after this morning I wasn’t going up there to check. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted to ask Tuck yet. I wanted him to tell me he was a werewolf himself, that seemed like pretty important information just on the basis of trust. But I also wanted to know why he was really out by the mine yesterday. His story didn’t add up and there’s no way he knew we would be up there, I think that was just a coincidence. As I was trying to come up with exactly how I wanted to broach the question to Tuck, Frank put a hand on my shoulder. He was wearing his lab coat so I guessed he just came up from the basement. The hairnet he always seemed to wear when he was working was in its usual spot. I suppose he wore it to protect the memory of hair that was once on his head. He looked solemn and a little sick as he turned to me.
“Keep her out of trouble will you? I know we haven’t always been the best to her and I’m sure Stein and I don’t really give her the help she needs. But she’s like the daughter I never had time to have, I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to her.”
“Frank, you probably do more than you know for her. Did she ever talk about her family with you?”
“Very briefly throughout the years, I don’t know if she’s told you much or anything for that matter. It… it certainly wasn’t easy for her growing up and it never got easier.”
“I’ll do my best to keep her out of trouble. If she does end up following me into… whatever this trial ends up being just promise me you’ll have a way to get her out. Some kind of contingency, I can fend for myself but I’ve seen her just shut down before. Like yesterday in the caves someone grabbed her and she lashed out and just… wasn’t herself. She just froze and I don’t want that to happen anywhere near Shaoni.”
“I’ll work on something but I can’t promise that. Like Stein said we’re scientists, we don’t really do field work like that. If I do come up with something you’ll be the first to know. I’m glad she ran into you when she did Keith, she could really use a friend.”
With that Frank walked away, back towards the kitchen and into the basement.
It wasn’t long after that when I heard Bianca coming down the stairs asking if anyone had seen her toothbrush. At which point Rocco appeared in front of me from god knows where holding a suspicious disassembled toothbrush.
“Not. A. Word. Kid.”
Rocco growled at me as he scampered out the door behind me.
“I have a couple that I packed for the trip here from Wisconsin I can just give you one of those.”
I called to Bianca. Partially because I wanted to get a move on and partially because I wanted no part in whatever Rocco was getting up to. If there was one supernatural thing about this town it was that raccoon’s knack for mischief. I get that’s what raccoons are known for but seriously, Rocco was on another level. Bianca reluctantly agreed to take one of the travel tooth brushes I had back at my house. I wasn’t even going to ask why she packed a duffle bag to go a few hundred feet into town and back again.
“Come on we’ll take the bikes again.”
Bianca said as she made her way behind the house.
“I’m telling you they’re going to give me tetanus one of these days but sure. Lets just stop at my place first, I want to drop off this backpack you took yesterday first.”
Bianca was still wearing the ratty jeans she’d taken from me yesterday and at this point I just figured she could have them. I really wasn’t about to get into an argument as to why she should take my pants off and… ugh even saying it is just… no. Those were hers now as far as I was concerned.
We rode over to my house through the crisp autumn afternoon. The trees along the street were finally being to change color, it looked like a scene from a postcard. One of those one’s of the idyllic towns that could’ve come straight out of a hallmark movie. I had to give it to Eagles Peak, it may by turning into a den of vipers for me minute by minute but it sure could be beautiful, in it’s own isolated kind of way.
“Wow its very… small.”
Bianca commented as she stepped into my house and looked around.
“Yeah not everyone has a blank check from two different governments like Stein.”
“I didn’t mean li…”
“It’s ok I know what you meant, its different.”
I said cutting her off before she had the chance to apologize. I dropped off the backpack in my room and rooted around in the one duffle bag I still hadn’t unpacked from my trip here. I found the toothbrush without to much trouble and walked into the living room to give it to Bianca only to find her unpacking on the couch.
“What’s going on here, are you moving in?”
I joked, not expecting the answer I was about to get.
“Yeah, kind of hard to keep an eye on you from my house. I suppose I could from the top floor but if we’re working against Shaoni that doesn’t seem like a great idea. She’s got that whole thing with lighting and I get the sense her being angry at you while your up in the air isn’t a great combination.”
Bianca said, unpacking a blanket like she wasn’t just inserting herself into my house.
“WHAT?”
I shouted, maybe a little too loud.
“Is there a problem?I thought you wanted me looking out for you, this is me, doing that.”
She said looking up at me with puppy dog eyes. You’ve got to understand, those eyes coming from someone like Bianca, glowing or otherwise, well you just can’t say no to that. When it’s Bianca you really can’t say no. She can just take that option away in an instant but again she didn’t for me, it was still my choice.
“I.. sure but you can have my bed. We’ll get everything set up once we get back from the Roost. You did tell Frank and Stein about this right?”
I gave in, deciding to let her stay.
“I’m a big girl, they doin’t need to know everything I do, and… thanks”
“It’s alright, just let me know next time you’re going to pull something like this ok?”
I added, equal parts excited to actually have someone to talk to besides myself in my own home, and worried what Frank and Stein might think was going on here. I put those thoughts out of my head for the moment as we got back on the bikes.
It was about 3 by the time we made it to Tuck’s bar after the delay Bianca had caused by moving herself out before we left. Just as I expected the sign said closed but the door was unlocked. The bar looked exactly the same as the last time I was there. Stone fireplace roaring and pristine wooden floor looking like it had been polished just this morning. Tuck was sitting behind the bar looking worse for wear. The look on his face said he knew we were coming and he wasn’t to thrilled about it.
“Does he know?”
Tuck asked pointedly, looking straight through me and speaking to Bianca.
“About me or you, because the answer is both of us.”
Tuck shook his head at this and a grim look came over him.
“Ya shouldn’t have pulled him into this.”
“Actually I pulled her into it if anything, going out there was my idea. I’ve got a mark like Robert’s, its actually what brought me to town in the first place.”
I said, hoping my honesty would get the same out of Tuck.
“So that bird called ya out here somehow?”
“More or less, but that’s not what I’m here about. I want to know why exactly you followed us out there yesterday.”
Tuck sighed and gestured to the seats at the bar, beckoning Bianca and I to take a seat.
“When Robert chased ya out the other night some of his friends came by. They all got that mark like him, they were sayin’ something about the thunderbird makin’ an appearance back at the old mine. I wanted to see for myself and make sure they were wrong. I found those bikes and ended up followin’ the trail. By the time I got there some guys were poking around that hole in the wall and a storm had kicked up. I saw them cut that rope and figured they weren’t doin’ no good. I… changed and dealt with them then forced my way into the old mine entrance, the rest ya already know cause I ran into ya not long after.”
This story made more sense to me, Tuck never came out there to find me, I just so happened to be out there. Those boulders I thought were moved had been, by Tuck which made me question just how strong he was. Each of those huge things had to weigh tons and there were three strewn about the entrance.
“Ok that makes more sense than what you told me, but what were you hoping to accomplish up there. If you ran into the thunderbird what would you have done?”
“I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t really up there again but the storm seemed to say otherwise. No storm like that just pops up and goes away, the bird had to be involved with that.”
“Actually she was there, just not as some huge bird. She was down in the caves with us but she looked human, native American to be more precise. That’s how I met her when I got marked and now she’s holding some kind of trial out in those mines.”
“You met the thunderbird, its a person? What does she want with this place now.”
Tuck said his demeanor changing into one full of concern. I didn’t know what else to say cause at the moment I didn’t actually know much more than that. It’s infuriating, this being in the dark thing. I just settled for dodging the question.
“Not to change the topic but are we to early to grab a bite to eat?”
I wish I had a camera handy because the face Tuck made at that whiplash change of topics was priceless. I can’t properly do it justice with words. Suffice it to say one of his eyebrows hit the ceiling while the other hit the floor and a violently confused expression plastered his face.
“Sure I guess, what do the two of ya want!”
Tuck exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air and walking back behind the counter. I ended up ordering some fried chicken sandwich with bacon and pickles, and as I took the first bite my risk of heart attack increased ten fold. Bianca ordered the same thing and was pecking at it inquisitively when I asked,
“So what’s the story with Rocco?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean why, why did Frank and Stein make him in the first place?”
I asked through a mouthful of greasy goodness.
“Well I think it started out as a joke, then Stein actually wanted an assistant and that joke became Rocco. They worked on him for a while, pretty much they took a random raccoon off the street and played around in its head. I know there was some gene splicing involved but if you want to know how they did it ask them.”
“So he was supposed to be an assistant in the lab? I think I’ve seen him doing one thing to help them out this whole time and he was poking through a back alley for old batteries.”
“Yeah, he’s not a great assistant, must be good enough though cause they haven’t tossed him out.”
“Are you kidding me! If they tossed him out he be so much worse! Just think, Rocco left to his own devices without any supervision.”
Both of us shuddered at the thought, if he was bad now he’d be a menace to society without the little control we had over him.
Bianca and I ate and eventually Tuck came out and I told him my story about Imalone. He seemed really concerned at the fact that the thunderbird could be walking around town and he wouldn’t know about it. I assured him that Shaoni was really hard to miss if you just looked at the eyes. It wasn’t like she looked any different either, no matter what she was wearing those tattoos would be a dead giveaway. Tuck assured me he was going to keep an eye out and gave me his number to call if I saw her. I don’t want to talk down on Bianca, but something about having a werewolf looking out for me as well was reassuring. Tuck told us a bit about what he was doing with Frank and Stein too. Apparently he contracted his “disease” as he called it long before he came to work in Eagles Peak. He was originally from Louisiana and moved to New York for a change of scenery and ended up getting a job in the mines here around 1940. I should also mention Tuck ages very slowly due to his “disease” so he looks like he’s in his 50’s or so but he was born in 1900. To his credit you’d never know he was anything other than your friendly middle aged bartender.
Bianca and I were getting ready to leave as it came time to open the bar for real. When Tuck offered us a round of drinks on the house.
“No, no that’s alright Tuck, you’ve done enough for us we’ll see you later.”
Bianca politely declined, pulling me towards the door. After I said my goodbyes and we had gotten back to the bikes I asked Bianca,
“Do you not drink? I’m not judging just… when Tuck offered you seemed kind of jumpy.”
“I just never have, I was kind of bouncing around the country when I turned 21 so I just never started.”
“So your telling me you never had your first drink? Well, we have to fix that then.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, its like a right of passage where I’m from. We’ll pick up a six pack or something on the way back but we don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”
I said, trying to convince her. I’m not a huge drinker but I am from Wisconsin, alcohol is a way of life out there and we’re know for our beer. In my family turning 21 and having your first drink is cause to bring the whole family together. I couldn’t do that for her but I could at least give her the experience, maybe give her just one more good thing to remember.
Bianca agreed and we pulled into the Save-A-Lot just outside town. The building was painted white bit it was slowly peeling away revealing a concrete grey underneath. The big glowing sign was missing a few letters now simply reading Sav- -Lo. Despite its decaying state it still had the classic beer cave inside. I took a second to look for something from Wisconsin, call me a snob but we do beer right. I settled on a 12 pack of Leinenkugel, that was close enough to home for me. Bianca trailed behind me in the store, a bit like a scared cat looking for a place to hide. Obviously she didn’t get out much and having people she didn’t really know much about was stressing her out somewhat. We got to the checkout and an older cashier eyed my suspiciously.
“Can I see an ID”
She croaked in a hoarse smokey voice. Now I don’t always look my age but I’m 28 there was no reason to try and ID me. That didn’t really bother me so much as the fact that my wallet was still at home. I’ve been spending the cash Bianca gave me back when I watched her house and I just keep that in my pocket. I also have a bad habit of only brining my wallet when I knew I would need it instead of carrying it on me. Regardless I started to sweat a little as I tried to explain the situation.
“You see I would but I left mine at home and I’m not sure if…”
I was cut off by Bianca reaching out and brushing the cashier’s hand Then looking her straight in the eye. I knew exactly what she was doing.
“Look we don’t have an ID for you right now can you just take it on faith?”
“I understand sweetie, here why don’t I cover it for you, my treat.”
The cashier said, turning a complete 180 on her previous question. I looked from Bianca to the old woman a few times before Bianca finally shrugged.
“What?”
I wondered if it was that easy for her to change my mind back when she manipulated me into watching the house.
“So she just payed for it?”
I asked Bianca as we walked back to the bikes.
“That was her, not that I couldn’t make her do that. As far as I can work out, if I suggest something people tend to do it. Over the years I learned how to control that to the point where I’m only able to do it when I want to. Frank said it has something to do with pheromones in my breath or something like that.”
Bianca explained, hoping onto her bike and keeping pace with me back towards my house. I didn’t ask for an explanation but she gave it. I’m not really sure pheromones were something that could have that profound of an effect on someone but I’d just add it to the list of questions I’d have to ask Frank or Stein at some point.
“Still it was a bit weird seeing it from the outside. Was I that easy to convince before?”
Bianca got a mischievous look in her eye.
“Oh, you were so much easier, I barley needed to try. Just flip my hair and flutter my eyes a few times and that was that.”
She said, smiling devilishly at me. I blushed a little bit, partly because that’s probably all it would’ve taken from someone who looked like her and partly because I was embarrassed that she might not just be poking fun at me.
“No you definitely did something to me, I lost like 6 hours in your kitchen! That was you right…right?!”
I asked a little nervous. Bianca just laughed and pedaled off ahead of me. She did not put my mind at ease with any sort of answer but she did beat me back to the house.
When I got in She was sitting on the couch sorting through a pile of movies she pulled out of her duffle bag. She really had just thrown the entire contents of her room into a bag and brought them over. Bianca seemed to settle on a movie before she realized I’d walked in.
“So you like horror?”
I said, gesturing to the same movies I’d seen lying out earlier when I watched her house.
“Yeah, I just like seeing how people think all these things act. Like Tuck, werewolves are always looked at as these big imposing things in movies but he’s a puppy in comparison.”
“The guy looks like he could tear me apart down the middle with his bare hands buuuut, I see your point.”
Thinking back to every interaction I’d had with the guy so far, he never really was as scary as he looked. I sat down on the couch, dropping the case of beer on the coffee table.
“So, have you picked out a movie yet?”
To which Bianca closed her eyes and poked at a random movie in the pile. “Dog Soldiers”, it was called, actually I think I’ve heard of that movie before. One of those its so bad its entertaining things. I popped the movie into my DVD player and sat back, handing Bianca a beer.
“ Is this how normal people feel?”
She asked as the movie started.
“Depends on what you mean by normal, even then I’m not sure that’s the question I’d be asking. Maybe you just finally have a chance to relax after years of never being able to.”
“Oh sure, I’ll just relax now that I know we have the actual thunderbird looking to force you into some kind of trial.”
Bianca joked sarcastically before suddenly softening and taking a sip of her beer.
“Uggg that’s bitter… but not bad. Maybe your onto something Kieth.”
I don’t remember much from the movie. One scene stuck with me, a guy trying to fist fight a werewolf. It was already campy but the effects on the werewolf were just dated enough to make it that much funnier. Bianca and I couldn’t help but to Imagine Tuck as the werewolf, bewildered as to why this scrawny thing thought it could fight him. At some point the beer ran out, Bianca and I making it through the whole case. I remember getting up to go to my own room and Bianca pulling me back. What I didn’t remember though was letting Shaoni into my house. I was woken up by a tap on my shoulder, coming face to face with her. Shaoni’s hand was on one shoulder and Bianca’s head was on the other. At some point we both feel asleep on the couch together, the TV was still on, illuminating the dark room.
“Well well, I wasn’t expecting you to have guests Keith.”
Shaoni mocked, clicking her tongue at me as she finished. She wore the same white night dress I’d seen her in before. Something in the house was open, a window, a door? I didn’t know but the smells of an autumn rainstorm blew into the house, a storm no doubt caused by Shaoni.
“I… its not what it looks like.”
I stammered out, embarrassed to be caught like this.
“I don’t care what you get up to in your free time Keith. I just came to tell you I’ll expect you at the mine tomorrow, The trials will be starting soon and I want everyone who will be participating to meet each other, you will be participating, won’t you Keith?”
She asked like it was a question but it really wasn’t, wether I liked it or not I was going to be there, I could come willingly or kicking and screaming. She was simply asking which I wanted it to be.
“When do you want me there?”
“Oh don’t worry about that, I’ll send someone to collect you around noon.”
With that she turned to walk away, but I wasn’t done with her yet.
“Wait! What exactly are these trials, what am I going to be doing out there?”
“That would spoil the surprise Keith, be patient, you’ll know in time. That pretty little thing there, her name wouldn’t happen to be Bianca, would it?”
Shaoni asked, pointing at Bianca who was still asleep on my shoulder.
“How did you know that?”
I shot back, immediately jumping to Bianca’s defense. I hadn’t known her all that long true, but I didn’t want her any closer to this than she had to be.
“Oh no reason.”
Shaoni said with a snicker that sounded more like a hiss. With that she disappeared, and I mean she was just gone. One minute she was there the next there was a gust of wind and a brief flash of light and she was gone. The disruption was enough to wake Bianca up finally.
“Ugh, head..still…spinning.”
“Heh, I think you overdid it a bit last night.”
“Ugh maybe.”
She said, holding her head that still rested on my shoulder.
“What’s going on anyway, why’d you wake me up.”
“It’s just… well things are moving a bit faster than I hoped.”
I said, trying to reassure her that it was nothing, most likely failing miserably but she didn’t seem to notice. There was a second there that I thought maybe things could just be normal. This whole thing would just blow over and Shaoni would never come back and get me for these “trials” but I always knew it was wishful thinking. Now Bianca was a part of it to somehow, that had made up my mind. She’d been through enough, now Shaoni seemed interested in her all of a sudden. If putting myself through these trials kept her away from Bianca that’s exactly what I’d do.

I've been on this Earth for a good while and nothing makes me lose more faith in humanity than the popularity of rap music. I wasn't a fan of when it first became popular, and it seems to only have gotten worse, which I didn't think could happen. I caught my daughter listening to some crappy rap song she heard on Tick Tock, and I couldn't even stand it! All these "Lils" and "Youngs" only rap about vulgar and sexual filth, with obnoxious instrumentals, no real instruments or anything. They have no talent and it seems like all of them look like spray-painted walls with all those ridiculous tattoos. It just makes me sad to see that our youth is listening to this crap rather than the good music I grew up with, surely there are other musical acts today that aren't as bad as rap music. It's just a shame to see what happened with the once beloved music industry.

I don't consider myself the greatest dad in the world, but l always make an effort to be the best I can be. Lately, l've noticed that my wife has given up on her household duties. As a tattoo artist, I often stay up late drawing until 1-2 in the morning, and some nights I get very little sleep. Despite this, my partner doesn't make an effort to wake up when our daughter does, leaving me with only 4 hours of sleep to go and permanently mark people's bodies. While I wake up at 5:30 or 6am to take care of morning duties like getting our daughter dressed, making breakfast, and taking her for a walk or to the park, my wife sometimes sleeps in until 9 or 10 o'clock. On top of that, I work 8-10 hours a day, five days a week, and on my only two days off, I spend them with my daughter because I love her so much. It brings me joy to be around her and see her laughing, playing, and smiling.
I'm at a loss as to what to do because we've tried therapy, but my wife stormed out in a rage during our session. Initially, she agreed to therapy and even chose the therapist, but later she stated she chose the therapist for me because she thought "we would get along" she weaponized this later. My wife used to be a stay-at-home mom, but when I realized things weren't getting done, I asked her to get a job to contribute to the rent. Now she works at a retail store for 3-4 days a week, with 4-hour shifts. Despite setting boundaries, when she comes home, she claims to be too tired to do any housework, even though it wasn't getting done before and the duty has always fallen on me. Additionally, there is no intimacy in our relationship, which probably goes without saying. After our daughter was born, my partner confessed that she had our baby so that I wouldn't leave the relationship. I've lost all attraction to her, and I don't want to live like this forever. I know this sounds like a victim mentality but It feels like l've been taken advantage of under the pretense of love. I'm lost and seeking advice on what to do.
TL;DR;: I feel like my partner is a bad mother who isn’t upholding her end of the parenting and I am seeking advice because I feel like I’m being taken advantage of.

a bit of back story- in November 2022 I tore my acl, was misdiagnosed for 4 months (on crutches) had surgery #1 in April and still couldn’t walk until surgery #2 in July. In august 2022 I returned to my full time job as tattoo shop manager / apprentice while still in a brace. I spent over 30k on doctors, surgeries, and just generally being alive and eating in the 10 months I couldn’t walk so I returned to work despite not being better.
I started doing apprentice tattoos in March so I’ve been pulling 60-70 hours a week. 40 as shop manager and then 15 hours after work + 8 hours on my “day off”
During this time and throughout the entire period I couldn’t walk my mom will not leave me the fuck alone. It’s constant. She’s constantly asking me when I’ll “have time for her”. Threatening to kick me out of the apartment I rent from her brother, raising mine and my partners rent, making it fucking impossible for me to save up any money to eventually leave. I make 600 a week working all these hours, which I’m fine with cause I know apprenticeships are typically unpaid, but god damn she tries every fucking thing to make existing as hard as possible for me.
I get the “other daughters spend time with their mothers” almost daily. Like other daughters have been through half the shit I have this last year, or have a horrible BPD mother making every aspect of their life a thousand times harder. I get threats of suicide because I’m not paying enough attention to her. I get insults from her about myself and my partner. I get berated if I go out with my partner or a friend for dinner after work because that’s “time I could’ve spent with her”. I get requests to skip work and cancel appointments to see her instead. It’s just a constant stream of requests and hate because she “misses me” but why would I ever want to fucking spend time with someone who makes every single part of my life miserable because Icant see her when I’m working.

I don't consider myself the greatest dad in the world, but I always make an effort to be the best I can be. Lately, I've noticed that my wife has given up on her household duties. As a tattoo artist, I often stay up late drawing until 1-2 in the morning, and some nights I get very little sleep. Despite this, my partner doesn't make an effort to wake up when our daughter does, leaving me with only 4 hours of sleep to go and permanently mark people's bodies. While I wake up at 5:30 or 6am to take care of morning duties like getting our daughter dressed, making breakfast, and taking her for a walk or to the park, my wife sometimes sleeps in until 9 or 10 o'clock. On top of that, I work 8-10 hours a day, five days a week, and on my only two days off, I spend them with my daughter because I love her so much. It brings me joy to be around her and see her laughing, playing, and smiling.
I'm at a loss as to what to do because we've tried therapy, but my wife stormed out in a rage during our session. Initially, she agreed to therapy and even chose the therapist, but later she stated she chose the therapist for me because she thought “we would get along” she weaponized this later. My wife used to be a stay-at-home mom, but when I realized things weren't getting done, I asked her to get a job to contribute to the rent. Now she works at a retail store for 3-4 days a week, with 4-hour shifts. Despite setting boundaries, when she comes home, she claims to be too tired to do any housework, even though it wasn't getting done before and the duty has always fallen on me. Additionally, there is no intimacy in our relationship, which probably goes without saying. After our daughter was born, my partner confessed that she had our baby so that I wouldn't leave the relationship. I've lost all attraction to her, and I don't want to live like this forever. I know this sounds like a victim mentality but It feels like I've been taken advantage of under the pretense of love. I'm lost and seeking advice on what to do.
Note: If this is not the correct place to ask for help with something like this, please guide me to the correct place. I don’t post on Reddit that often.

Hi there!
Just your standard tatted up metal loving alternative irish fella, chasing the dream whilst living out his 90's kid childhood through video games, television and movies. Honestly I don't think I'm ever going to feel like I have reached a level of Adult where I feel like I have my shit together.
Anyways.... as stated i am heavily tattooed and love rock music, I'll jam away in my studio to hits from. My teenage angst years.. IT WAS NEVER A PHASE MUM! My dogs seem to like my renditions during my dish washing kitchen karaoke sessions.. At least they have yet to tell me otherwise.. My neighbours have definitely scooped me singing my heart out because my windows are usually open.
I'd love to meet a fellow nerdy, tattooed gamer to share that with but if that's not your thing i do love hitting the gym, camping and Photography. I am definitely most at peace when it's just me my camera and the whole wide world as my playground.
Feel free to get in touch if I have at least aroused (haha aroused) a smidge of curiosity. Visual person? Me to..which is why i have no problem with swapping a picture or two.
Look forward to chatting :D
!unlock

My mother and I have a rocky relationship and I stopped caring about it a few years ago. We "reconnected" for a lack of a better word last year. Earlier this year she was diagnosed with terminal cancer. We looked into hospice and palliative care but the good/decent ones had no beds. She was renting a house but her stupid ass let my mentally unstable sister move in and she basically kicked our mom out of her own mom. There's another sibling but she lives in another state and is pregnant and another sister who living in a small apartment with her kids as her house is being remodeled.
So it fell onto me to let my mom move in back in March. I was under the assumption that my mom was flat broke. My out of state sister was the one handling her finances. I ended up picking up the tab on several things like copays, her cell phone bill, grocery and I pay my maid extra money to basically babysit her.
I've started to dig into my savings (which I have never done) to cover costs. All of my siblings are crying poverty. I told her that I needed to start putting together her paperwork and she became evasive and hostile. I thought she was scared about facing her mortality. I found some legal stuff including her will which was signed before she moved in with me.
This b has 750K and asked that it be divided between my three siblings. I get nothing. The daughter who rang up $3000 on her dying mom's credit card on weed, UberEats and tattoos gets 250K but the daughter who helps her off the toilet and spent $1,300 on a bed gets $0. This isn't a misunderstanding. The only time my name was mentioned in the will was to confirm that I was being left out.
I confronted her about it and she said she didn't think I needed money and I'm the only kid without kids. I said so you were going to use me to take care of me and then basically me to fuck off when you die? She said she would change it and I was right and she was wrong.
I said don't bother. You have to move out. She said she has a couple of months to live. She can't move back into her rental that she's paying $2000 a month for because she's scared of my sister and she wouldn't survive a road trip to my other sister who is due any day and there's no room at my other sister's place. My house is clean, quiet and by the beach.
I sent an email to my siblings telling them that she has a week to leave and if you don't take her then I'll arrange for the cops to do it. They know I'll do it too. They'll probably take her to some county hospital. Of course my siblings are mad at me.
I'm not looking for advice. I spoke to several professionals from lawyers to CPAs. I do not owe my mother anything. If the roles were reversed then she'd lose no sleep over my sleeping on the streets with cancer

"You gotta know that there's an art to it, Ezra," Hitch said, cutting another piece of duct tape.
The sleeves of his weather-beaten coat were shoved all the way up his arms, to stop the fabric from falling over his knuckles while he was working, and goosebumps lined his skin. He was strapping a rubber chicken to the back of his truck, over the lens of the shattered backup camera, with the legs pointing down so that they hung a couple inches above the ground. There were dents in the hood from the crash last week, and scratches along the door from scraping into a curb. The chicken, hopefully, would keep him from breaking anything else.
"You can't go cheap," Hitch said. "The cheap rubber chickens only make noise when pressure lets go. That's no good. As soon as I back up into something, I want this chicken to be screaming like it’s in the depths of hell."
“Sure thing,” I said in a monotone, leaning against the side of the truck.
There were scrambled electronic parts piled in the back of the truck, the innards of a radio, a broken computer, tangled wires, a couple loose pairs of earbuds. He found the parts in alleyways or bummed them off his friends for a couple bucks or stole them from the vacation homes that were left empty for most of the year. Then he sold them for a profit at the scrapyard. Hitch had bounced between minimum-wage jobs for a while after high school, spending a couple months as a bagger at the grocery store or as a seasonal worker at the farm two hours down the highway. He'd never stuck with it. At the very least, the scrapyard got him enough money to eat and occasionally spend a night in a motel when he got tired of sleeping in his car.
Hitch pressed the last piece of tape in place and grinned up at me. "I've got something for you, duck."
The nickname came from when I’d broken my leg as a child and waddled around in a cast until it was healed. I hated it with a burning passion, and I glared at Hitch with the ease of twenty-one years of practice. He had a duck tattoo at the base of his thumb that he’d gotten in a back-alley shop as a teenager. He said that he’d gotten it to remind him of me, and the fact that I hated the nickname was just a bonus. It was shaky-lined, with an uneven face, but he loved it anyway.
The handle stuck when Hitch tried to open the door, a consequence of the rust collecting in the crevices of the car and running down the sides like blood from a cut. The car groaned when the door finally popped open, a metal against metal screech that had me flinching away. Hitch dug through the cluttered fast food containers in the passenger-side footwell, eventually coming up with a crinkly paper bag. He waved away the flies buzzing around the opening of the bag and held it out to me.
The last time Hitch had brought me food, I’d gotten food poisoning because he’d left it out in the midday sun for two days. The donut was squished slightly, and the icing was stuck to the bag. I still ate it, grimacing at the harsh citrus flavor. Taking Hitch’s food was an instinct engraved from the days when Dad had given us a can of kidney beans for dinner and Hitch had drank the juice, leaving the beans for me.
I rarely went hungry anymore, three mostly square meals a day and granola in my pockets just in case, but habits didn’t die easy.
These days, Hitch only brought me food when he wanted my help, like when he saw a place he wanted to hit but was worried about doing it alone.
I got in the car, like I always did.
We drove past the cluster of seafood-themed restaurants with chipped paint decks, the beachfront park where there were always shifty-eyed men sitting under the slide, the single room library where all the books had been water damaged in the flood last year. The change was quick as we drove across Main Street, heading closer to the beach. The roads were freshly paved, the concrete a smooth black except where the sun had already started to pick away at it. The three-story homes lining the sides of the street were crouched on elegant stilts, with space underneath for a car or three. Most of the garages were empty, with the lights off and curtains drawn in the house. Come summer, the streets would be swarming with tourists and vacationers, but until then, most of the buildings nearest to the beach were unoccupied.
Hitch stopped as the sun started to go down at a house that was leaning precariously out towards the beach, tilted ever so slightly, the edge of its foundation buried in the shifting sand of the beach. It certainly looked deserted, with an overgrown yard and blue paint peeling off the door in sheets.
Hitch took his hammer out of the backseat, hoisting it over his shoulder. It was two feet of solid metal with rags wrapped around the head to muffle the sound of the hits. Hitch squared up, bending his knees and holding the hammer like a baseball bat. Before he could swing, though, the door creaked open on its own, the hinges squeaking. The house beyond was dark enough that I could only make out general shapes, glimpsing the curve of a sofa to the left, what was maybe the shimmer of a chandelier on the other side.
Hitch lowered his hammer, looking vaguely disappointed that he didn’t get to use it. “That’s…weird as hell.”
“Maybe the deadbolt broke, maybe they forgot to lock it, it doesn’t matter,” I hissed, checking our surroundings for other people again. “Just hurry up and get inside before someone calls the cops.”
Hitch flicked the lightswitch on the wall, and the lights flickered on. They were dim, buzzing audibly and blinking off occasionally. The walls were plastered with contrasting swatches of wallpaper and splattered with random colors. There was neon orange behind the dining table, a galaxy swirl in the kitchen, and on the ceiling there was a repeating floral pattern covered in nametag stickers. Each of the stickers was filled out with The Erlking. Chandeliers hung in every room, three or four for each, and rubber ducks sat on every table. A miniature carousel sat in the corner along with a towering model rocket.
Sand was heaped on every surface, at least a couple inches everywhere. It was piled in the corners and stuck to the walls, and it covered the floor in a thick blanket. Our hesitant steps into the house left footprints clearly outlined in the sand.
Hitch took a cursory look around and headed immediately for the TV mounted on the wall. “Look out the windows and tell me if anyone is coming.”
I shook the sand out of the blinds and pulled them open, then had to brush sand off of the window before I could see anything.
Hitch was quick, practiced at finding and appropriating the things that were worth taking. He came back to me with an armful of electronics and chandeliers, dumping it at my feet before turning to head deeper into the house again.
There was a thump, somewhere upstairs, and then footsteps, slow and deliberate. Hitch froze at the threshold of the room, then ran for the door with me just ahead of him, sand flying out from under our feet.
My hand was almost brushing the doorknob, close enough that I could see the light from the streetlamp outside streaming in through the cracks in the door. My fingers touched the wood and it gave under my touch, becoming malleable and warm. I yelped, stumbling backwards, and the door started to melt. The paint ran down in thick drops, pooling at the bottom of the door, and the wood warped like metal being welded. The soft edges of the door ran into the walls until there was no sign of an exit ever being there.
“Well, well, well,” said a cultured voice with just an edge of snooty elitism. “What do we have here?”
The man was well over eight feet tall, with long black hair covering his eyes. He was wearing a yellow raincoat with holes cut out of the hood to accommodate the deer antlers jutting upwards from his head. There was sand settled on his shoulders and hovering around his head like a halo.
“Who the fuck are you?” Hitch said, inching towards a window.
He smiled, just a little bit, and his teeth shone in the dim light. “I am the Erlking.”
Hitch nodded, and seemed about to respond. I grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the window. I could feel sand in the wind roaring against my back as the Erlking growled in anger, the grains scraping harshly against my cheeks.
We were almost to the window when Hitch was ripped away from me, and I came to a startled halt. The sand had formed long grasping arms that pressed Hitch against the floral wallpaper. His wrists were held tight, and as I watched, a sandy hand wrapped around his mouth and forced its way between his teeth. He gagged, and sand trickled out of the corners of his mouth.
The Erlking strolled towards him, not seeming to be in any sort of rush. “You know, I’m not very fond of your yapping.”
He made an idle gesture and the sand wrapped around my ankles, tethering me in place.
“I yap all the time,” Hitch said. “Three-time olympic yapper, that’s me. Best to just let me go now and save yourself some trouble.”
The Erlking tapped a manicured nail against Hitch’s mouth, hard enough to hurt, judging by the way he flinched away. “But why would I ever let you go when I’ve gone to this much trouble to catch you and your sister? It’s so hard, these days, to find people that no one will miss.”
Hitch struggled against the sand, trying to escape and failing. “What do you want with us, then? You just said it, we’re nobody.”
“I’m fae, dear one,” the Erlking said. “I get my power from my followers. And I think that you two will make lovely additions to my flock.”

He flicked Hitch's nose and Hitch gasped. Feathers started to form on his arms, popping out from under his skin in a spray of blood.
Hitch pushed off the wall, using his bound hands as a fulcrum, and his knees crashed into the Erlking’s stomach. The Erlking fell backwards, wheezing, and the sand around my ankles loosened.
Hitch made desperate eye contact with me as feathers shot up his neck and jerked his head towards the window. The message was obvious. Run.
The last thing I saw before crashing out the window and into freedom was Hitch’s body twisting, his arms wrenching into wings and feathers covering every inch of his skin. By the time I landed on the concrete outside, he was a small black bird, held tightly in the Erlking’s hands. The whole building was sinking into the ground, burnished-gold sand piling up over top and streaming from the windows.
Thirty years later, I saw Sam’s Supernatural Consultation and Neutralization written in neat, looping handwriting on a piece of paper taped to the door. The tape was peeling at the corners and the paper was yellowed with age, but there was obviously care put into the sign, in its perfectly centered text and looping floral designs drawn over the edges in gold marker.
I knocked, hesitantly, drawing my woolen coat closer around my shoulders. I’d bought it as a fiftieth birthday gift for myself, and I took comfort in the heavy weight of it over my shoulders.
“Coming!” someone called from within the depths of the office.
There were a couple crashes, and the sound of paper shuffling. Eventually, the door was opened by a young woman with ketchup stains on her shirt and pencils stuck through her hair.
“Hi, I’m Sam, I specialize in supernatural consultation and hunting, how may I help you today?” Sam said, customer-service pep in her voice. She stood in the doorway, solidly blocking entry into the office.
“My name is Ezra, I’m for a consultation. I emailed you but you didn’t respond?” I shifted in place, suddenly feeling awkward.
“Oh! Yeah, I lost the password for the email ages ago. Sorry for the bad welcome, I get lots of people thinking I’m crazy or pulling a prank and harassing me.”
She ushered me into the office, clearing papers off one of the chairs to make room for me to sit down. There was a collection of swords along one wall, all of them polished to perfection, several with deep knicks in the metal which indicated that they’d been used heavily.
“So what can I help you with?” Sam asked again, more sincere this time.
“Thirty years ago, my brother was turned into a bird,” I started. I’d told this story so many times that it barely felt ridiculous to say anymore. I was used to the disbelieving looks, the careful pity. But Sam just nodded along, face open and welcoming.
“I’ve almost given up on finding him, at this point,” I said. “But I saw your ad in the newspaper, and…here I am, I suppose.”
“Here you are,” Sam echoed, smiling. She pulled one of the pencils out of her hair and took a bit of paperwork off of one of her stacks, turning it over so that the blank side sat neatly in front of her. “Tell me everything.”
I told Sam everything, and she wrote it all down, pencil scratching along the paper.
The last part of the story was always the hardest to tell. “I left him there. I ran and I didn’t look back.”
I had been to dozens of detectives and investigators over the years, once the police had dropped Hitch’s case. I’d been to professional offices with smartly-dressed secretaries and met scraggly men in coffee shops. All of them had given me the same look, pity and annoyance all mixed up into a humor-the-crazy-lady soup. Sam, though, just seemed thoughtful.
Sam leaned forward and put a hand over mine, carefully, like she thought that I would pull away. “Sometimes you have to leave people behind.”
I tightened her hold on Sam’s hand and drew it towards me, like I could make Sam listen if only I squeezed tight enough. “But that’s why I’m here. I don’t want to leave him behind.”
“Okay then. I’ll do my best to help you.” Sam agreed, finally. Then she paused, and said softly, “You know…I think I met your brother once. He might have saved my life. He’s certainly why I started in this business.”
“Really? What happened?” I asked.
This is the story that Sam told me, related to the best of my abilities:
It was a new moon, so the only illumination came from the stars gazing idly down and distant porch lights shining across the scraggly brush of the dunes. Sam’s neighbors were decent people who cared about baby turtles, so the lights were a low, unobtrusive red, and the ocean sloshed like blood. Sam walked on the beach almost every night, drawing back the gauzy pink curtains and clambering out her bedroom window. She didn’t often bother to be quiet; her mama worked the late shift and came home exhausted. As long as Sam got home before the sun, her mama would never find out that she paced the shoreline and dreamed of inhaling sand until her lungs became their own beach.
The sky was lightening. The sun would come up soon, and that meant Sam’s time on the beach was over. She needed to get back to her real life, go to her fifth grade class and stop that nonsense, as her mother would say. Her mother loved to say things like that, pushing Sam into her proper place by implication alone.
“She’s a good kid, of course, but she’s a bit…” Her mother would trail off there, usually getting a commiserating expression from whoever she was talking to. Sam always wondered how that sentence would have finished. She’s a bit strange, maybe. She’s a bit intense. She’s a bit abrasive. She’s quiet enough but when Jason tried to steal her pencil in math class, she stabbed him in the hand so hard that the lead tattooed him.
Her mother was better, for the most part. The days of her stocking up the fridge, and leaving a post-it note on the counter, and leaving for days at a time were gone. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen tile where her mother had collapsed and caved her head in, even though the bloodstains had been replaced with new tile.
“Your auntie got an abortion, you know,” her mother had said from her place on the couch, slurring her words. “Pill in the mail and then bam, no more baby.”
She had clapped her hands together to illustrate her point. Her mother jerked forward and grabbed Sam by the wrist, then, staring up at her until Sam met her eyes.
“I love you, you know? But sometimes I wonder…” She settled back onto the couch. “Yeah. I wonder.”
She’d gotten up, then, back to the kitchen. She’d been stumbling, a shambling zombie of a woman. The ground in the entryway of the kitchen was raised, ever so slightly, and her mother went down hard. Her head cracked against the tile, chin first, and she didn’t move.
Sam had been the one to call the ambulance. She had stared at the scattering of loose teeth on the ground while she waited, and considered what her life would be like with a dead mom. Not so bad, she thought, and immediately felt guilty for it.
Her mom was better, now, for the most part. But Sam still stepped around the place on the kitchen floor where she had collapsed. There was still a matchbox hidden under her bed with the gleaming shine of her mother’s lost teeth, two canines and a molar. It was nice, having a piece of her mom to keep. Even if she left again, Sam would still have part of her.
Sam sighed, and turned away from the ocean. As she faced towards the low dunes further up the beach, she saw a sandcastle sitting nestled among them. It was such a strange sight that her eyes skipped over it at first, almost automatically, disregarding it because it was so out of place.
Sam found sandcastles out on the beach sometimes, usually half-collapsed and on the verge of being washed away by the waves, but she had never seen anything like the sandcastle in front of her. It was life-sized, something that wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Scottish highlands, with spires shooting up above her head and carefully etched out bricks lining each side. The front wall was dominated by an arched set of double doors, twice her height, with a portcullis nestled at the top, ready to be dropped. All of it was lovingly detailed, down to the rust on the tips of the towers and the wood grain of the door. It was made out of wet, densely-packed sand, held together impossibly. It had not been there two hours ago, when she had come to the beach.
There was a bird sitting on the overhang of the door, small and black.
As soon as she took a step towards the sandcastle, the bird shook out its feathers and swooped down towards Sam, landing at her feet with a little stumble.
“Hey, kid, get out of here,” said the bird.
Sam closed her eyes, very deliberately. When she opened them, the bird was still there. Sam considered herself a very reasonable person, so she immediately drew the most logical conclusion. The bird was, she was almost certain, a demon.
“Trust me, you don’t want to run into Mr. Salty, the queen bitch himself,” the bird said.
“Mr. Salty?” Sam inquired, polite as she knew how to be. She edged to the side, trying to get a good angle to kick the bird like a soccer ball.
The bird did something similar to a wince, all its feathers fluffing up then settling back down. “Ah, don’t call him that. He’d turn you into a toad.”
The bird gestured with its head, towards the looming sand structure. “That’s his castle. He’s in there, probably scuttling along the ceiling or some shit because that’s the sort of weirdo he is.”
Sam nodded, encouraging. She pulled back her foot and lined up her shot, the way she’d seen athletes do on TV. She aimed right for its sharp beak and let loose. The bird saw it coming, its beady eyes widening, and it cawed in distress. It flapped away, avoiding her kick only to fall backward into the sand in a scramble of wings.
“What’s your fucking problem?” it squawked. “I was trying to help you!”
“I don’t need the help of a demon,” Sam yelled, trying to remember the exorcism that her mama had taught her once, because her mama believed in being prepared for anything.
“I’m not a demon,” the bird said indignantly.
It was at about that moment that Sam gave up and just decided to roll with it.
“What are you, then?” Sam asked.
The bird shuffled its clawed feet, looking about as awkward as it could, given that it didn’t really have recognizable facial expressions. “Technically I’m a familiar of the Erlking, prince of the fae, but I prefer to be called Hitch.”
“You can’t blame me for assuming, though,” Sam said. “Ravens do tend to be associated with murder.”
“Hey, excuse you,” Hitch said. “I’m a rook, not a raven. Ravens are way bigger.”
“Sure,” Sam said, not really paying attention. Her eyes had caught on the details of the sandcastle, and she was transfixed by the slow spirals of the sand, the strange beauty of it. She found herself stepping towards the great doors, lifting a hand to knock, and as she did, the sand warped in front of her eyes, heaving itself towards her with bulging slowness. The door creaked open before her, revealing a vast, empty room. Just before she stepped inside, she felt a piercing pain in her foot, and she yelped, leaping backwards.
Hitch pecked her again, really digging his beak in. “Don’t be an idiot.”
Sam glared at him, rubbing her foot. About to retort, she finally really took in the room inside the sandcastle, and her words died in her throat.
There was a body just past the threshold of the door, face down and limbs hanging limp at its sides. Long hair splayed out in a halo around its head.
“Don’t,” Hitch warned, suddenly serious. “Just leave, kid, I mean it. I’ve seen too many people go down this road and you don’t want to be one of them.”
Sam ignored him. She made her way across the beach, slipping with every step. The sand felt deeper, piling up around her feet in silent drifts. She picked up the nearest stick and poked the body with it through the door, ready to leap back if anything went wrong, staying firmly outside of the sandcastle.
This close, Sam could tell that it used to be a woman. Her head wasn’t attached to her body. It hadn’t been a clean amputation, either. Her upper body was bruised, with chunks taken out of it, and the bones in her neck hung mangled, not connected to anything.
“Well, I warned you,” Hitch said, defeated. “I did warn you.”
Sam nudged the head with the end of the stick, nudging it over so that she could see the face. Her mother stared back at her, torn to pieces, breath still wheezing from her lungs. She wasn’t blinking, just gazing forward with glazed eyes. Sweat dripped down from her hairline.
Sam screamed and dropped the stick, tripping over herself in her haste to get away.
Her mother’s eyes were wide and pleading, and she was mouthing desperate words at Sam. Her vocal cords were broken to bits, and the only sound that came out was a strained groan.
The head rolled, inching closer to Sam like a grotesque caterpillar.
Her mother gasped for air, torn lips fluttering. Finally, comprehensible words came out. “Help. Help me, daughter.”
“That’s not your mother,” Hitch said, quiet.
Sam knew that. Her mother was sleeping back at home, and anyways her mom had never asked for her help. She had an aversion to accepting charity, as she put it.
“Okay,” Sam said, shaking all over. “Okay.”
She backed away from the sandcastle, not looking away.
“Failure,” her mother hissed as she stepped away. “I never wanted a daughter like you.”
The sun came up over the horizon. The sandcastle, Hitch, and her mom all disintegrated into sand as the light hit them.
The beach, the next night, was almost exactly how I remembered it. The beams of our flashlights sent light bouncing across the dunes, illuminating the waves, and I imagined faces in the foam of the waves.
“I’ve been back here a hundred times. There’s nothing left,” I said.
Sam took the car key out of her purse and pointed it at the sand, adjusting the sword slung over her shoulder in order to do it. The key had belonged to Hitch; Sam had requested an item of his, and it was the only thing I had left. She rested the key on the sand and drew a circle around it, inscribing symbols around the borders.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Sam shrugged. “Not much, really. I’m…I guess you could say that I’m knocking.”
The key laid inert on the sand for long enough that I was just about to give up and go home, admit to myself that Hitch was dead and that I was a fool to believe that Sam could actually help me. Then a building started to take shape, flickering in and out like it was struggling to get away. With a pop of displaced air, the sandcastle settled into existence.
Sam banged on the entryway. Nothing happened. She did it again, harder, and scowled when the door still didn’t open.
“We demand entrance, under your honor,” Sam yelled. There was a hard rush of wind, and I gripped Sam’s arm to keep my balance, but the doors cracked open reluctantly.
The inside of the sandcastle consisted of one enormous hall, the roof arching up out of sight. Rafters crisscrossed from wall to wall, and a cobbled path led further into the building, but other than that, it was completely empty, except for the birds. There were thousands of them, perched on the rafters or hopping along the ground. They parted in front of Sam and I, and reformed behind us, leaving us in a small pocket of open space. They were all black-feathered, with sharp beaks and beady eyes.
The Erlking sat on a throne at the end of the hall, lounging across it with his feet up on the armrest. He watched them as they came forward, the soft caw of the birds the only sound.
“I am here to bargain for the life of my brother,” I said, with as much dignity as I could muster, before the Erlking could say anything.
The Erlking ignored her, tilting his head to look at Sam. “I remember you. I almost got you, once.”

Sam glared at him but didn’t respond.
“You want your brother,” The Erlking said to me, and he almost sounded amused. “Then go get him.”
As if by some sort of silent signal, every bird in the room took flight at once, and their cawing made me think of screams. I covered my head against the flapping of their wings, and my vision was quickly obscured by the chaotic movement of them. I found myself on my knees, just trying to escape them.
A hand met my shoulder. Sam urged me to my feet, and together we ran for the edge of the room, where the swarm was the thinnest. We pressed ourselves into the corner and the swarm spiraled tighter and tighter at the center of the room. It went on until there seemed to be no differentiation between the birds, all of them fused together into one creature.
When the chaos died down, the birds had become one mass, with wings and eyes and talons sticking out of its flesh, thrashing and chirping. Human body parts stuck out of it, bulging out from the feathers. It was hands, mostly, with a couple knees or staring eyes. The bird amalgamation had no recognizable facial features, but there was one long beak extending from the front of its head. Most of the body parts were concentrated around the beak, and they peeked out from where the beak connected with muscle, or grew from the tongue, nestled between the two crushing halves of the beak.
It turned its beak down and crawled forward, using the hands to balance. The fingers scrambled over the ground. I was afraid of centipedes as a child, and I felt that same crawling dread when it started moving.
“Holy shit,” Sam whispered, which was rather disappointing, because I had been hoping that at least one of us knew what to do.
The creature turned, a lurching movement that crushed some of the hands underneath it, and started heaving itself slowly towards our corner.
“Better hurry up!” the Erlking called from his throne.
It was blocking the exit, by then. The shifting body of it had moved to block us off. It ambled towards us and I tried to sink further into the corner.
As it approached, getting close enough that I could smell the stink of it, I saw a flash of a tattoo on one of the hands. I leaned in, trying to find it again, like looking for dolphins surfacing in the ocean. And again, I caught a glimpse of a duck tattoo, the tattoo that Hitch had gotten on his hand as a teenager.
I ripped away from Sam’s death grip and ran for the monster.
I fell to my knees in front of it, wincing as I impacted the ground, and reached into the nest of hands. I could feel them tearing at my forearms and ripping into me with their sharp nails, but I kept going. I pressed further in, up to my shoulder in a writhing mass of limbs, aiming for the spot where I had last seen that tattoo.
The hands were tugging at me, wrapping around my back and hair. They were pulling together, trying to draw me completely into the mass of them. I was aware of Sam at my side, anchoring me in place and bashing any hand that got too close with her sword or the sparks that leapt from her hands with muttered words. But I didn’t think it would be enough. They were too strong, and there were too many of them.
I was up to my waist in the hands when something grabbed my palm. I felt the way it clung to me, and the calluses on its palm, and I knew that I had found my brother.
I flung herself back. The hands didn’t want to let me go, and they fought the whole way, but slowly, I made progress. I kept hold of Hitch’s hand in mine the whole time, gripping it as hard as I could. I finally broke free, Hitch with me, and Sam was immediately charging the creature, able to use her sword with much greater strength without being worried about injuring Hitch. She swung it forward, and it sliced through the wrist of one of the hands. It fell without a sound, red sand flowing out of it. It deflated until it looked like dirty laundry, just a piece of limp flesh. The creature shrieked, scuttling away enough that the door was finally accessible. The three of us ran for it, Sam and I supporting Hitch between us.
I looked back as I left and found the Erlking staring right at me.
“Interesting,” he murmured, his voice carrying impossibly across the vast space between us.
The sandcastle collapsed behind us, the great walls falling in on themselves. We were out in the morning sun, the sandcastle disappearing as we watched. Hitch was on the ground in front of me, as young as he’d been thirty years ago, when he was captured. He started laughing, feathers puffing out of his mouth. He laughed until he cried and I hugged him in the way that he’d held me when I was young, in the times when my life had been defined by hunger and fear.
Hitch left, afterwards. He scratched at the pinhole scars covering his body, where feathers burst through his skin, and pulled his long sleeves down around his wrists. He didn’t know where he was going but he told me that he needed time
I had spent thirty years worth of time without him. I wanted to grab my brother by the shoulders and beg him to stay. But he flinched when I hugged him goodbye and he refused to go near sand and he stared distrustfully at the birds chirping in the trees. Hitch needed to go away and I loved him too much to stop him.
I sat out on the beach every morning. I felt the sun on my face and I waited for Hitch to come home.

My husband and I have been together for thirteen years this year.
Around a month after we started dating, we got engaged (fast I know) because he knew right away that I was his person.
From the start we knew we wanted a courthouse wedding with immediate family followed by a BBQ afterwards. Due to health issues, we had to delay it for several years, but once we were finally ready, we told our family about our plans.
Pretty much immediately my mother threw a fit, essentially manipulating us both into having a “proper” wedding. She told us that because I was her “only daughter”, she just wouldn’t accept anything other than a proper wedding and refused to go if we had a courthouse wedding.
Being the people pleasers we are, we agreed but told her it would have to be small both because of our anxiety and financial constraints.
She told us that finances wouldn’t be an issue because she would pay for everything and not to worry. We protested for quite a while before eventually giving in because we’d already felt like we’d lost at that point.
Heck we’d even considered doing our ceremony beforehand at the courthouse with only his family, but considering one of her closest friends would be the celebrant, there’s no doubt she’d find out and we wouldn’t hear the end of it so we complied.
We already knew it would be her wedding before it even began. It started with the wedding dress shopping. She made sure to pick a dress that covered my tattoos because they would look “tacky” if they were on show. So right away I knew she’d control the entire day.
We then brought up the fact that we wanted our dog to be involved as the ring bearer. We had bought her one of those wedding outfits a few years back when we saw it, but she flat out said no. Our dog is extremely well behaved and calm, so it wouldn’t have been an issue but again, she didn’t approve of dogs being involved so we had to have my youngest sister in law be the ring bearer (something we both didn’t want).
Then came the catering and cake. We both didn’t get a say in either, which were both full of food we didn’t eat, and our wedding cake was a coffee cake, despite us apparently ordering white chocolate (apparently it had been changed last minute).
The decor had to be entirely changed because apparently my scheme of lavender wasn’t practical so it was changed to a bright red. So far nothing was as we planned, so we were already dreading the day.
The guest list went from under 20 people to 50, most of which were extended family we never saw or spoke to and ALL of my mums close friends, which alone made up 12 people. Again, this was HER day.
The night before, while going through the wedding playlist, she demanded we change our first dance and fathedaughter, motheson dance song. Now I had picked these from the start, especially my husband and I’s song, which has been ours since the beginning of our relationship YEARS prior. Of course this had to change to a song she liked, as did the fathedaughter dance.
Fast forward to the wedding morning. My hair was being done and because I had it cut a few months prior due to a health issue making it fall out, the extensions looked ROUGH. Again, I had said that I needed them cut in to match (which I would pay for), but no, they would apparently look fine.
Then came the makeup, which I did myself and apparently had to do my sisters as well, leaving me little to no time to get ready. Mum demanded I remove my lip ring because again it was “tacky” and when I tried putting on a Lacey white bra, she lost it and demanded I remove it because it would “ruin” the dress. You couldn’t even see it underneath the sleeves of the detachable, Lacey coat!
This made me extremely uncomfortable and anxious because I NEVER leave the house without one and it’s not like I have the melons to fill it out without one!
As we were about to leave, she told me to take my glasses off because they would ruin the photos. You know, the glasses I use to SEE! So the entire day I was squinting in every picture, which essentially ruined the photos anyway!
Then she insisted I drink some champagne on the way there. I don’t drink because of the medication I’m on for my epilepsy but of course I had to because again, she made a big deal out of it being a “normal” wedding.
When we got to the location, I saw my younger sister in law (ring bearer), wearing the same dress she’d been wearing all week, complete with CROCS. I knew at that point she’d make it about herself somehow. She’s the most spoilt, selfish and self centred person I know and I was soon proven right when she rushed to the bathroom pretending to be sick before the reception began (later confirmed she wasn’t at all sick, just didn’t wanna be there).
Her mother (MIL) left before the reception because she couldn’t possibly be left at home alone despite living 2 minutes away and being 13 years old!
We were asked about her several times during the reception so yes, she still managed to make everyone focus on her.
The entire reception , my husband and I were panicking because we hate large crowds, especially when we are the focus (birthdays are the WORST). We had to keep going outside for air because we kept getting overwhelmed by everything.
When it was all over we went home and the next day, my mother and I were going through our gifts (mostly money) when she confiscated it all saying we wouldn’t spend it wisely and that she would keep it until we found something she considered appropriate.
Despite telling us not to bother about paying her back, she still manages to bring it up to this day, as does my brother, who cruelly taunted us leading up to the day, telling us that it was embarrassing that we were relying on the family to pay for our wedding and that he would never get married if he couldn’t afford it.
Essentially we were manipulated into having a bigger wedding despite only wanting a smaller wedding and accused of being ungrateful when we mentioned how anxious the day made us both.
I regret everything about that day and can’t even look at photos without getting anxious and upset. My husband and I never celebrate that day as our anniversary and honestly wish we had just gone ahead with our original plans and stood our ground.

Hi! I just received a sportster frame and front and back tires. My dad and I are going to build my first bike! I’m a tattoo apprentice so my funds are limited and wondered if any one had any advice on doing a cost effective build, I don’t have a time frame it’s just a dad/daughter project :). I wanted to know if building a motor from kits would be more cost effective than buying a preexisting one. I don’t want to do anything fancy just something reasonable for a first bike/build.

If you're in Canada Happy May 2-4 weekend folks!
So as the title says, I'm a disabled guy that uses a wheelchair. I was born with Spina Bifida. Happy to answer questions about it if you like. Brown hair, brown eyes, glasses, medium build, 4'11 if I could stand, occasionally beardy and a tattoo I'd eventually like covered with somethin else. I'm easy going, more of a quiet observer type but will open up and be talkative with familiar people. I'd like to think I have a decent sense of humour. I think you kind of have to in this world generally but especially when you're disabled. I enjoy various tv shows and movies. Anything from a Sons of Anarchy type show, to comedy, fantasy, historical fiction etc. Music taste wise I'm all over the place really, anything from Irish trad, celtic punk, 90's rock/alternative, classic rock of the 70's, Broadway tunes and the list goes on In my teens and early 20's I was involved at the local level in wheelchair basketball and sledge hockey, until some health matters forced a decision to quit - plus sports are an expensive hobby to be fair.
I suppose I'm looking for someone to connect with. 28+ please. Someone with similar interests or even different things, especially if they're a bit nerdy (comic book/fandom nerdy, not math and science nerdy). Someone affectionate physically. Someone who is 420 friendly would be great - medicinal & recreational use depending on the day or time of year even. Preferably also someone who does not have children.
I'm not quite sure what else to write here or if I do would we have anything to talk about. So I think I'll leave it there for now. If this. Feel free to DM or message me if any of this appeals to you. Take care.
​

My family and I are headed to the UK and Croatia next week.
Myself and daughter hold US and Irish Passports. My wife and son just have US passports.
We will use our EU passports to enter Croatia, but does it matter for entering the Uk? I know Irish citizens have the right to enter the UK, but will it complicate things if we use 2 Irish and 2 us passports when entering? The EU agents have never batted an eye.

Previous Part
Morning eventually came, banishing the eyes that seemed to peer at me through the night. It was strange how suddenly the feeling left me, making me think that someone really was watching me. The whole thing was really doing wonders for my paranoia. Despite the rough morning and sleepless night, I still found myself waiting outside Bianca’s house bright and early that morning. The air was cool but not chilly, one of those perfect days that’s cold enough you’ll never start sweating unless you really try, but warm enough that a T-shirt will get you through without too much trouble.
I only had to knock once before Bianca threw open the door.
“Where you just waiting there for me?”
I asked, cracking a smile and raising an eyebrow.
“You’ll never know” she added playfully, “Are we ready to go then?”
Bianca had made some preparations for the trip, she didn’t have a backpack ready to go but she definitely made an effort to dress the part… sort of. She was wearing an old grey combat jacket that I imagine she pulled out of Stein’s closet. The jacket was way to big for her but she made it work. Her combat boots matched the jacket, looking old and well worn. What didn’t match was the bright red yoga pants she was wearing, but I wasn’t about to complain. Besides, I had packed each of us a spare set of clothes just in case.
“Oh! So I had an idea, its a long walk, not crazy but I’d rather not just walk the whole way if we can help it. Frank and Stein used to have some bicycles when we first came here so I asked them about it and well.”
Bianca chirped, as she led me around the back of the house and pulled a tarp off two abysmal looking bicycles. The bikes were both red at one point but that was a long time ago. Now they were covered in a layer of rust and I could barely make out the branding that may have once read, “Shwinn”.
“Um… Bianca I think I might get tetanus if I sit on that thing.”
“Oh come on! Aren’t you tired of walking everywhere? Lets just give the bikes a shot, if they crumble to dust we can leave them.”
“And get me a tetanus shot.”
I added quickly
“Fine, and get you a tetanus shot.”
Bianca shot back, she feigned annoyance but she couldn’t hide the smile that crossed her face.
Laughing to ourselves, we got on the bikes and took off North, out of town and onto a dirt path leading to the woods. Bianca didn’t say much on the way out but I could tell she was having a good time. This may have been her first time out of the house for something other than supervising Frank and Stein. She tried to hide it by riding fast and staying out in front of me, but I could still catch her eyes literally glowing with happiness every now and then. I thought back to what Frank had said about her eyes glowing when she experiences strong emotion. I hoped that was the case and she wasn’t just trying really hard to influence me, which he had also said would make her eyes glow.
As we neared the end of the path, the forest’s edge came into view. we let the bikes roll to a stop then got off and let them fall over onto the dirt. I half expected them to explode into a puff of rusty brown dust the second they touched the ground but to my surprise, neither bike did. I could’ve swore I heard Bianca sniffle almost like she’d been crying. I opened my mouth to say something and then thought better of it, if she wanted to tell me what was going on she would. Well, that or she’d just manipulate me away from the question. Wait, was she doing that now? It’s hard to tell, maybe that’s how everyone around her feels. The more I thought about it the more I realized how difficult it must be for her just to have friends or form relationships with people at all. If she told them the truth they’d never know if what they were feeling around her at any given moment was real. All they’d have to go on would be her word, could they really trust that, could I? If she kept her secret she’d know that at any moment she could just change how they felt about her, manipulate them into anything she wanted. Could she resist that kind of power over them and still look someone in the eyes and say she was their friend. Not to mention how hard it would be to keep that secret over years of knowing someone.
“So Keith, were exactly are we headed? You do have some Idea where this mine you’re looking for is right?”
Bianca asked skeptically, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Well about that…. I just know its out here in the forest somewhere. That’s pretty much all I have to go on from Frank, Stein, and that massive bartender in town.”
I told her sheepishly.
“Well that explains why you over-packed so much then. Seriously? How long do you think we we’re going to be out here, you’re packed like some kind of survivalist.”
She mocked, picking through the pack I’d made for her. After she finished rooting through the pack I made for her like some kind of giant squirrel and, chastised me yet again for not doing more research on the mine, we set off.
The forest felt imposing as we walked into the woods through a manicured patch of trees. Someone had gone to great lengths to braid a few trees over this little path before the forest turned back into its natural wild state. It gave off the feeling that civilization ended with this path and something else entirely began. As we got off the path our light faded quickly, chocked out by the limbs of massive pine trees. All this cover meant there was very little foliage on the ground which was covered in a blanket of needles. The though occurred to me that we were looking for a mine in a valley. That’s weird because what exactly would be in a valley that warranted the creation of a mine? Usually you’ll find them in mountains so what exactly was one doing out here.
“Bianca I just had a thought, Why would they build a mine out here? I mean what’s the point, is there even anything valuable out here to mine?”
“Yeah, come to think of it your right. What other reason would there be to have a mine out here?”
“Unless they were just mining from a cave but that still doesn’t answer the question of what they were…”
Bianca cut me off
“What was that first thing you said?”
“Um… mining from a cave?”
A lightbulb went off over her head as she exclaimed,
“That’s it! There’s caves under the town, I’ve heard Frank talk about them before! Maybe they didn’t have a real mine so they were just mining something out of the caves.”
“Not to burst your bubble Bianca, but that still doesn’t get us any closer to these caves or mines or whatever it is.”
I responded cautiously, trying not to sound to critical of her revelation.
“Well not exactly, Frank said they were in the East of the forest somewhere so all we have to do is head East till we run into them.”
Bianca said, full of confidence. Then something occurred to me, we had no real way of getting back to the bikes other than retracing our steps. Now that was easy enough now, if we went deeper into the woods we would get lost pretty quickly.
“One more thing Bianca, Maybe we should come up with a way to find our way out? I really don’t want to end up lost out here.”
I asked nervously, fidgeting with my hands.
“Way ahead of you on that one, I left my phone back by the bikes. Here give me yours and I’ll put my number in so you can track it and find our way back.”
She said, taking my phone, putting her number into it, and turning it to me to show she’d tracked her own phones location with it, giving us a path back to the bikes.
As we turned East and headed even deeper into the forest the terrain started to change. Instead of the pine needle coating we started to see rocks and the ground was more rugged. Here and there we’d even pass a boulder or two. I decided to break the silence of our search.
“So are you ever going to tell me how you met Frank and Stein?”
Bianca sighed before responding.
“I suppose you deserve to know if your sticking around. You probably guessed I wasn’t always living with them. Lets just say before that I was with someone who I though meant the world to me but I never meant the same to him. It was all a game to him and eventually I noticed that. Then, a little while afterwards I realized I wasn’t exactly powerless anymore and I did some things that I’m not exactly proud of to survive on my own.”
I could tell talking about this hurt her but I needed more.
“That’s not exactly telling me a whole lot Bianca.”
I pressed, maybe a little to hard.
“I found out I had powers and I used them ok! I got myself out of a situation where I was pulled so many way I didn’t know which direction was up! The second I found out I could do the same thing to people myself, I did! You’re the first person to actually seem to give a shit that wasn’t some crazy doctor that tolerates my existence or someone I just manipulated into caring! Maybe I even did that with you! I JUST DON’T KNOW ANYMORE!”
Bianca screamed at me, getting in my face with tears beginning to run down her own. Her eyes were glowing electric blue again and I knew I’d crossed a line.
“Hey I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you. I… I didn’t know.”
“No.. you didn’t but I guess you should”
Bianca sniffled out, trying desperately to pull herself back together and keep up the act the everything was ok. Bianca went silent for a while as we kept walking along, crying to herself before she finally took a deep breath and said,
“You know, this is the first time someone’s asked me to come along and do something outside the house in years. I spend so much time cooped up in there just helping with experiments and looking after Rocco. It’s actually nice to get out and talk for once.”
Her voice still a lifts hoarse from screaming at me before.
“Look if you want to talk about it we’ve got nothing but time out here. I’d like to know a bit more about you anyways.”
I said taking her hand and trying to sound comforting.
“Yeah maybe I should get some of it off my chest. Here it goes I guess.”
Bianca said, taking a deep breath and tightening her grip on my hand. Her eyes still glowed faintly as she told me her story as we ventured deeper into the forest.
I’ll give you the shorter version of it here, mostly cause I’m not sure how she’d feel about me spoiling all her secrets.. She ran away from her family and her college education for a guy, his name was Brooke. Brooke was from money and had a job lined up by his family at a law firm so Bianca thought she was set for life with him. Bianca was madly in love with him at the time but as days grew into months and years, Brooke became a monster. He cheated on her and told her she wasn’t enough, that her shortcomings drove him to do it over and over again and somehow it was all her fault every time. He became abusive not long after the cheating started, flying into fits of hysteric apology afterwards only further convincing Bianca she was somehow at fault. After three years of this she eventually got up the courage to leave and never looked back. On the road she discovered her powers of manipulation, letting her play with people’s emotions and she only got better at it with time. Unfortunately her abilities got her into a very specific form of getting money out of people, prostitution. One day she tried to solicit Stein and he saw straight through her. Stein took her with him to the hotel he and Frank were staying at and they took her in on the spot. The trio traveled together ever since, Bianca becoming a kind of daughter to them.
I was in shock once she finished her story, it sounded like she’d really been through the ringer.“I don’t know what to say, that’s awful, all of it.”
“It was, I lived it. But I made it through, doesn’t matter how at the end of the day. I’ve got Frank and Stein and that’s enough, they let me into their home and I recovered in my own way, I’m still here so I’ll take what I can get right?”
Bianca stated with a cold loom of determination on her face. It was painfully obvious to me that despite the masquerade of being fine she was barley holding it together underneath. Like just talking about it with me was driving a finger into old wounds.
“At least you’ll never have to go through something like that again. With your abilities you never have to get pushed around like that.”
I said with completely no tact whatsoever. Bianca stopped suddenly as I said this and whirled around to face me. The fire I’d seen in her eyes earlier reigniting in seconds.
“Do you really think that’s all this is?! I’m no better than him, even you don’t know what you really think when you look at me! Admit ti!”
Bianca growled at me, hysterical once again.
“No, Bianca I…”
“Look I know your trying to help but just leave it, ok? I’m done talking about this”
She cut me off, pulling herself back together and signaling very clearly we were done with that particular conversation.
“Besides look over there, That hole in the rock see it? That might be what we’re looking for.”
Bianca said, gesturing to the stone wall that now jutted out of the ground beside us.
The rock wall she pointed out was chipped near the middle in a way that couldn’t have been natural. Straight lines don’t really exist in nature and this hole was cut squarely into this rock wall. As we got closer I could see that it wasn’t just an entrance either. The hole opened into the rock wall but then suddenly dropped, like whoever carved it had hit a point where the ground just fell out from under them. From where Bianca and I were looking into the hole we couldn’t quite see the bottom.
“Well we found what we were looking for, is this bringing back any memories from those dreams you had?”
Bianca asked, sounding a little short tempered still as I searched through my bag.
“What are you looking for in there?”
“Rope, I’ve got to see what’s in there and I’m hoping I brought enough to climb down there.”
I replied hurriedly, still tearing apart my bag to get to the rope I had packed underneath everything else.
“Rope? you’re not seriously going to climb down that pit are you? I can barely see down there.”
Bianca complained, sounding exasperated.
“Here, this should help you see down there.”
I said, tossing her one of the two head mounted flashlights I brought along.
“ME? I never said we were going down there!”
Bianca panicked momentarily.
“Look, you can stay up here and wait for me if you really don’t want to go down there. But I would appreciate having you to watch my back.”
I added trying to soften her up. Bianca opened her mouth like she was going to say something but stopped, instead dropping her own pack to the ground and searching through it.
“Look if I’m going down there I’m going to need something better than yoga pants on and…. You actually packed a change of clothes in here. Geez you really did think of everything.”
As Bianca took the jeans I packed and went off to find somewhere to change I finally found the rope. It was about 50 feet of strong climbing rope that I kept for an occasion just like this. Now that’s not to say I was a professional climber by any means but a 20 or 30 foot rappel I should be able to do. I was hoping that the descent wasn’t much further than that. I anchored the rope to a tree a little ways away from the hole in the rock face and tossed the rope down the hole. It hit the bottom with a satisfying thud just as Bianca got back from changing. The jeans I had packed were a little big on her but she’d manage. She looked like a mess in her ancient combat boot and jacket, all of which were too big for her. I tried to open my mouth to tell her she looked nice, I swear I really did but what came out was hyena-like laughter at her appearance.
“I…. Oh god I’m…. It’s just”
I struggled to get out, laughing all the while.
“Well I’m glad you like it at least, ok seriously come on, stop laughing.”
Bianca scolded as she began giggling herself. Soon enough we were both laughing, Bianca’s earlier storminess cleared up by the absurdity of the situation.
Here we were, a succubus and a guy with a strange mark out in the woods getting ready to rappel into a hole in the ground that apparently didn’t exist. All this was almost starting to feel… I’m not really sure how to put it, not normal but not so strange. Honestly I finally felt like I’d found some kind of purpose again out here. As weird as it all was I was starting to enjoy… this, this whole odd situation I’d found myself in. Bianca and I finally got ahold of the laughter and stood back up from our place on the ground.
“Do I really look that bad?”
She asked
“I’ve never heard you complain about your looks before. But no, with those jeans on you look like maybe, just maybe you prepared a little bit for coming out here.”
I teased, getting a little wry grin out of her.
“Come on, lets get going. Hopefully we can be in and out of there pretty quickly.”
I said, handing Bianca her pack and shouldering my own.
Rappelling in wasn’t actually all that hard, really dangerous without safety equipment sure, but neither of us had any trouble descending the maybe 20 foot drop. At the bottom I saw something that shocked me, this place wasn’t abandoned. I saw lighting set up, not on but very clearly set up recently. Bits of old mining equipment were scattered around the… cave? Mine? Im not really sure what to call it anymore. What concerned me more than anything was the light I saw at the far end of the cave (I’m settling on calling it a cave). The light came from a massive bonfire and I could just make out the shadows of several people sitting around it. I have no idea how we didn’t see the smoke on our way in. It wasn’t filling the cave but it also wasn’t coming out from anywhere I saw on the way here.
“Bianca get down!”
I whisper shouted at her, turning off my headlamp and falling flat to the ground myself. Bianca dropped to the ground as she heard me with unexpected grace. I didn’t know if those figures by the fire had seen us but I certainly wasn’t taking chances.
“Ok, I’m going to creep up and see if I can hear them talking or something. Can you just stay here and watch my back? I don’t want you getting any closer than you have to.”
I instructed Bianca who answered with a quick nod and reached into the inner pocket of her jacket. She withdrew a jeweled golden dagger from it.
“I sorry, what’s this now?”
I asked, confused and thrown off guard by the weapon. It was a really beautiful blade, the hilt was silver with several purple gems inlaid in it. The blade was golden save for the razor sharp edge which was some kind of strange blue material that was roughly the same color Blanca’s eyes glowed.
“I had a life before this you know.”
Bianca responded.
“Yeah we talked about it but you didn’t really tell me much about this part apparently. Doesn’t matter I guess just surprised you have Jeff Bezos’s butter knife in your jacket pocket.”
I whispered, pointing at the dagger in her hand.
“Well we can talk more about how I ended up with this later, not really the time now. Just be careful ok.”
I got up as she said this, realizing she was right. Now really wasn’t the time to be asking about strange daggers, I had more pressing issues.
I crouched down and started creeping towards the figures by the bonfire, careful to avoid the rusty machinery bits scattered across the ground. As I got closer I saw a passage I had missed in the dark. I dared to turn my headlamp on for just a second, trying to block out most of the light with my hand. What I saw through the dim light and shadows of my finger left me awestruck. Inside the passage a coliseum had been constructed, with seats carved into the stone. The structure itself was made up of the rusted metal pieces that littered the room, collected and smelted together to form the walls of the structure. What frightened me the most was the symbol clearly and meticulously drawn on the dirt floor, the same symbol that adorned my back, the symbol of the thunderbird. Moving on, more shaken than ever I crept closer still to the roaring bonfire. I could just about make out the words the figures were saying. When I got close enough to make out the word “tests” the fire suddenly went out with a gust of wind.The room temperature must have dropped 10 degrees immediately and I could swear I heard the sounds of heavy rain above us. But the sudden lack of light isn’t what rooted me in place, cowering on the cave floor. What did that was the two illuminated grey eyes that pierced through the darkness like lightning in a storm, eyes I would never forget, the eyes of the woman from Imalone.
This time I clearly heard the voices of the figures from around the bonfire as they all dropped to their knees.
“Shaoni! We weren’t expecting you till later, Stormcaller.”
The figures all said some variation of in unison. Their tone sounding almost as though they were begging for forgiveness. In a voice that hissed like rain on pavement the woman apparently named Shaoni spoke.
“I’ve come to oversee the start of the trials, is everything prepared?”
In one bone chilling moment her eyes locked on mine and she said the one thing I’d hoped she wouldn’t.
“You didn’t tell me we had guests.”
The moment the words left her lips I turned back to where Bianca was waiting, her now glowing eyes cutting through the darkness of the cave. Giving up any form of subtly, I bolted for the rope behind Bianca. I just wanted to be out of this cave, whatever I might learn from searching around was far outweighed by the fact that Shaoni was here. I’d seen the kind of destruction she’d left in her wake in Imalone and I had no desire to see it happen again here. I banged my ankle on several of the little bits of rusty metal on the floor as I ran, sending sparks of pain up my leg. I didn’t hear anything behind me at all which was almost more unnerving than the footsteps I expected to hear. I closed in on Bianca and saw she hadn’t moved at all, her eyes fixed on something behind me. I dared to take a quick glance back over my shoulder and saw Shaoni taking her first step away from the extinguished bonfire. Lightning crackled around her like one of those novelty plasma globes. In the flashes of light I could see her face. There was no smile or frown, no emotion at all. She simply stared straight ahead towards me and took slow calm steps, inching ever closer.
“Bianca we’ve got to go… NOW!”
I shouted, snapping her to attention. She nodded and turned on her heels, back toward the rope we’d thrown in earlier. Only, when we got to the rope and gave it a tug, it came falling back toward us.
“There’s no way. I…I anchored it to that tree, it should’ve held!”
I cried in disbelief. Bianca and I starred up at the now stormy sky through the hole we would’ve escaped from. Two men walked into view on either side of the hole, glowering down at us. I notice a marking on one of the men’s hands in a flash of lightning from the storm. I could only assume if I was able to make it out I would’ve seen a marking just like the one on my back. Just as soon as the men had appeared a shape flew in from the left with a low growl, taking both men along with it.
“Ok, new plan! There’s something else up there and I really don’t want to get involved with… whatever that was either. I didn’t see any footprints near the entrance so I’m assuming those guys we saw by the bonfire got in another way. We’re just going to have to find where that was and get out that way.”
I instructed Bianca, gesturing to the men in toe with Shaoni and trying not to sound as afraid as I was.
“Ok, I’m with you but lets get moving, I don’t want to any closer to her than I have to be.”
Bianca answered, putting her hand on my shoulder. I suddenly felt a wave of calm rush over me and for the second time I was grateful for Bianca’s ability to simply turn off my fear response.
Shaoni now stood about 50 feet from us with four men following behind her. In the light she gave off I could see the men were all dressed like normal people. I kind of figured they would be more of those canvas wrapped weirdos from Imalone but no. There stood four men in jeans and flannels standing there. Shaoni looked like she could’ve stepped right out of a painting of Pocahontas. She wore an animal hide dress with frills along the bottom and arms. Her head was adorned with a leather band containing several hawk feathers. In short she looked like she’d stepped out of a different time. But I had no time to look over the finer details of her clothing as Bianca and I rushed towards her. Once we got within striking distance I pulled Bianca to the left, towards the passage I had seen earlier. Shaoni never made a move towards us, she just simply looked at me, the ghost of a smile briefly crossing her lips. One of the men with her grabbed at Bianca though, pulling her out of my grasp momentarily. That was a mistake because she was on him immediately with the ornate dagger I’d seen before. As the man grabbed her Bianca lashed out with the dagger, sticking him in the gut with the blade. He screamed in anguish and let go of her but Bianca wasn’t done yet. She followed up by stabbing the man in the back of the neck as he bent over, grabbing at the hole in his abdomen. The other three men were so taken aback by the sudden ferocity she displayed that they didn’t come any closer. As time stood still for a second the men all looked toward Shaoni, awaiting instructions but hesitant to get any closer to Bianca. Using the brief moment of disbelief Bianca had caused, we ran down the side passage towards the coliseum.
“What was that?”
I asked, still shocked by how suddenly Bianca had acted.
“He tried to grab me, I don’t like when they try to grab me”
Bianca responded, distant and… scared? I got the sense she was still in shock at what she had done too. But I couldn’t worry about that right now, we still had to get out of here. Luckily the men didn’t seem to be following us. Wether Shaoni called them off or they stopped to care for their friend I didn’t know, and frankly I didn’t care.
Rushing through the rusty coliseum was haunting. I expected something to jump out of every shadow in the imposing structure. As we slowed to a jog in the middle of the coliseum, right where that eagle symbol was, we stopped to look around. We had come into this arena through an open arch but the only other exit I could see was a similar but barred archway. The coliseum was huge for something constructed in a cave, probably 400 feet across. I had no idea how this thing could’ve been made without anybody finding out.
“Bianca are you seeing anyway out of here? Bianca!”
I asked, then shouted as I turned to see her standing still as a statue in the middle of the Eagle symbol. She was staring at the dagger she had stabbed that man with. Blood still stained the blade and dripped from it intermittently.
“Bianca are you alright?”
I questioned as I walked over to her. She still had this look in her eyes, like she was miles away.
“Bianca? Come on talk to me. Look, you did what you had to do back there, sure it wasn’t exactly pretty but it had to be done.”
I tried to comfort her with my words but the truth is, my heart just wasn’t in it. I was a little scared of what I saw from her in those few moments. She just lashed out and attacked him, not that he didn’t deserve it but going back for more was too much. But what would’ve happened if she didn’t act? It’s not something I could really dwell on now and I’m not sure it really mattered. I just wasn’t feeling all that great about the fact we may have killed someone.
“I don’t like it when they grab me.”
Bianca finally repeated, still appearing catatonic. I leaned down to her level, putting my face right in-front of her’s and putting her head in between my hands.
“Bianca I know enough to know that whole situation may have dug up some memories for you but nows really not the time. We have to keep moving, we have to find a way out of here, and I can’t do that without you right now.”
Bianca tensed up as I spoke to her, but I could feel her relax as I finished. A single tear fell from her eye as she gave me a nod and followed behind me as I walked toward the barred off archway.
Before I made it to the archway there was a massive crash as something tore the rusty bars from their mountings and fell into the room.
“Tuck?!”
I exclaimed, recognizing his colossal figure on the floor immediately. His shirt and pants were torn to shreds though, Like he’d flexed too hard and burst out of his clothes. Bianca and I rushed over to check on him but apparently he was fine. Before we even started walking towards him he was already back up on his feet and lumbering towards us.
“Tuck what are you doing here? Actually never mind, are you ok?”
I asked, concern in my voice.
“It’s going to take more than this to stop me son. I figured you might go looking for that old mine I mentioned the other night so I came to find you. I feel real bad about ya run’in off the way ya did and I got to thinking. Maybe I could make it up to ya if I told ya about the mine. So I came out here and found some shady look’in fellas poking around and figured maybe ya needed help, looks like I was right.”
Tuck explained, dusting himself off and brushing away some of the tattered remains of his shirt. I didn’t buy his story for a second but I wasn’t going to argue with this bear of a man.
“So how did you get in anyway?”
“Used the old entrance from back when this place was still run’in, come on I’ll lead ya out.”
Tuck answered, already turning and walking back the way he came.
The walk out was long and none of us talked much so I just looked around. The further we walked down this little tunnel the more I noticed crushed equipment. The walls looked like they were made up of bits and pieces of crumbled rock that may have once been the ceiling of a much bigger tunnel here.
“There was a collapse, just like the report said only, whatever caused it wasn’t any fault of ours. It was that damn thunderbird waking up.”
Tuck piped up, answering one question and making me ask another.
“Wait you knew about her?!”
“All the miners did, some decided to follow her after she woke up and brought the walls down on us. Others wanted revenge for the brothers we lost, I’m one of the former. You see son, the reason I stayed around this town so long was because of that bird. I want a chance to return the favor.”
“But what about Robert? If you hate the thunderbird so much why’d you let him in? You had to see that tattoo on his hand.”
“I know he thinks that damned bird will “save” him or something but I don’t blame him. Everyone deals with things in their own way and it’s not my place to judge folk for it.”
Tuck lectured, as we made our way further down the passage. His words made sense to me but I didn’t understand how he could be so understanding. From what I understood the thunderbird had a part to play in the original mine’s collapse and the death of the workers there. Only for some of the survivors to revere this creature. If I were in Tuck’s shoes I don’t think I could forgive and forget.
Finally we saw light at the end of the tunnel. We emerged into the whispers of what I’m sure was a monster of a storm. But that’s not what drew my attention, what did were the boulders scattered around the hole we just came out of. It looked like they had been moved, and recently. The suspicious red stain just barley peaking out from the bottom of one of them only served to convince me further. Tuck’s story didn’t quite make sense and this entrance seemed like it should’ve been blocked up until very recently. I wasn’t about to question the guy who saved us though, so I let the issue rest.
Bianca’s idea of tracking her phone to find our way to the bikes worked like a charm. We followed the directions my phone spit at us and eventually found our way back to the bikes. Tuck’s old Ford Bronco sat behind our bikes leaving me to question if he followed us on our way here.
“Well do you kids want a ride back to town?”
Tuck asked, his voice bellowing across the forest. Seriously it was like the guy swallowed a loudspeaker at some point and just spoke through it now.
“No we’ll find our own way back.”
“Alrighty then, stay safe son.”
Tuck called back to me as he got into his truck and drove off. Bianca and I stood up our bikes and got ready to head back to town.
“Hey Keith?”
“Yeah what is it Bianca?”
“Next time you offer to bring me along somewhere can you warn me about the damn thunderbird that seems to just show up around you.”
I laughed at this, it was nice to see Bianca joking around again. After what happened in the caves she seemed like someone else, none of her usual cheeriness was there. Not that I knew if that was what she wanted me to see from her or how she actually presented herself but still. I trusted her enough at this point to assume she wasn’t using her abilities to mess with my head.
When we got back to Bianca’s house the sun was just beginning to set, washing the town in shades of purple, orange, and red. We walked the bikes around to their place behind the house and I walked Bianca back to the front door.
“Thanks for today Keith,I don’t… get out very much anymore and it was… nice… to do something other than sit around the house for once. You know, despite everything that happened it was actually fun.”
I was taken aback by her words at first. If it was me I’d immediately want nothing to do with this person who just put me in danger.
“You had fun? The thunderbird showed up again and we may have killed a guy and you had fun?”
I asked, raising and eyebrow suspiciously.
“Can we not talk about that right now? Anyways I don’t exactly have a high bar for what is and isn’t fun at this point. I’ll see you later Keith.”
Bianca said, cracking a smile and walking into her house.
I was about halfway back to my own house when I realized she never gave me my backpack back. Well, looks like I’d be seeing her again then because I need that stuff back. I wasn’t sure what to think about what I’d seen today. If the thunderbird was in those mines years ago why did she end up in Wisconsin? There was also a very real possibility some people in this town worshipped her so I’d have to keep an eye out for that. The really interesting thing to me was the Shaoni never seemed to want to hurt me in the cave today. She was terrifying as all hell sure, but I didn’t get the sense that she wanted to cause me any sort of harm. If she wanted to do that my gut told me she would’ve done it quickly and efficiently.
Thunder suddenly cracked outside, interrupting my train of thought. As I stood up to see what time it was a knock came from the front door. I froze, who exactly could it be? I doubt Bianca would come over, I don’t think she even knows where I live but maybe she came by to drop off the backpack she absconded with? The knock came again, more forcefully this time.
“I’m coming, I’m coming!”
I shouted, as I jogged to the door. My heart dropped as soon as I opened it, On the other side of the door stood Shaoni. She was dressed normally for once, wearing a long flowing white nightgown. Shaoni stepped into my house as she cooed in her usual misty voice.
“Good evening. Keith was it? We have much to discuss.”

I’m a alternate looking Irish fella looking to talk to people and see where things go so here is a little bit about me!
About me: well I’m a massive film nerd, i studied it at university and hoping at some point to get into that industry. I love my music, mainly rock, emo, alt, indie and stuff like that. Bands and artists such as twenty one pilots, my chemical romance, movements, Joji, enter shikari, bad omens, bring me the horizon, korn, Crywank and spiritbox just to name a few. Along with that I love concerts/gig, be it a comedy gig or live music I’ll be there. I love anime and gaming to so I am a big nerd like that. I enjoy hiking, walks and nature in general and always make time for that. Lastly I love to travel and planning get aways.
Physical: I’m a tall (6’2) chubby white guy. I always say I’ve a dad bod without the kids. I’ve 18 tattoos all of my arms, a nose ring, brown hair and I wear glasses. Happy to share pictures of myself if you’d like that.
What I’m looking for is someone I can just connect with, someone kind and nice and all that type of stuff. Physical I tend to go for more alternative looking people but that’s not a dealbreaker, as long as you’ve a personality I can connect with all good. It would help If you could share a picture of yourself!
So yeah that’s me. Send me a message telling me a random fact about yourself or something you love

Hi, I know some of you have been interested in Joost’s written stuff, so this is one of them. It’s a short story that Joost wrote for Boekenweek voor Jongeren (Book Week for Young People) in 2019. There’s more info about it here (in Dutch) https://www.vice.com/nl/article/qvgzpv/joost-klein-schreef-een-kort-verhaal-over-een-wilde-nacht-in-berlijn and there was also this promo video for it https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wx7wxnpxps0. It's been translated from Dutch - maybe not the most perfect translation but it's readable. Original in Dutch here. Enjoy

"How come he suddenly has cash?" I looked at Gurb, but he avoided my gaze. Louis never had money and yet he was buying another round. Meanwhile, a Moby song was playing and nothing made sense. "If he has money for drinks, he can surely pay me back, right?"
Just a few hours ago, I was alone in Berlin. Now, ten hours later, I'm standing in some obscure techno club with my best friends. Loud rock music with drunken shouting. "Hey, Miss Murder, can I make beauty stay if I take my life?" I woke up that day with a mild hangover from the lonely yet people-filled night before. Perfect conditions for a 20-year-old dropout.
The Hard Rock Café was the most beautifully ugly place in Berlin. Gurb had driven for seven hours straight in his mother's car, but we didn't notice. An iconic black Mini Cooper. Your body leads your mind, the beat never stops, and you can conquer the world. Louis threw in another crazy dance move. We were happy.
"Do you want another drink, brother?" Gurb asked me, half shouting. An evening filled with rhetorical questions. He saw me dancing and already knew the answer.
Gurb always had money. Louis, on the other hand, never did. Louis was also the youngest of us three. He had just turned 18. I wouldn't call him a cunning fox. More like a jack-of-all-trades. Like the time he made a lot of money on a Wadden Island with a group of boys. They sold large blocks of hash.
"Crazy dude!" I shouted at him. He yelled something back.
"Do you remember back then?" Louis said.
"Back then? Back then? Yeah man, of course!" I had no idea what he meant. "Do you mean the party?"
"Do you mean the party, he says! This guy. When I look at you like this, it makes me happy. The exact same kid is here letting loose just like back in high school!"
We knew each other from secondary school. He joined when I was in the second grade. He was very intelligent. Too young, too much knowledge of the world. His mother is from Brazil. We often went to his mother's place to play on the Playstation Louis and I had bought together.
I lived everywhere at that time. In the crisis shelter where I stayed for a while, for example, I wasn't allowed to have a Playstation. So we set it up in an accessible place, near school. It was always fun with Louis. Going together to the Apple Store. Taking all kinds of photos with all the webcams, posting them on Hyves, and then leaving. Louis always knew how to cheer me up.
"Aaaaaaaaaa!" There was Gurb with five drinks in his hands. Gurb was wearing a blue checkered shirt. Two buttons undone. Hair slicked back. "You look good, brother!"
"You look fresh too! We all look fresh!" Gurb said enthusiastically. Louis was wearing a completely white outfit. We quickly bought this before going out. He also bleached his hair.
"You look like the Brazilian cousin of James Dean in these clothes," I said. Louis laughed. "Let me take a picture."
Suddenly, the DJ switched to some kind of techno. "Ah, here Berlin briefly takes off its mask." I was fine with it all. Louis was talking to a lady.
Voluptuous breasts, I thought to myself. He gave her one of his two drinks.
"He's with a girl and he's thinking with his dick," I said to Gurb. "Let him be, tonight Berlin is ours!"
The bass kept pounding. "I simply don't have the patience for the club," I said to Gurb. He looked surprised. Like a sweet dog, tilting his head. "I'm just waiting for tomorrow. Can't do my thing here. Don't have patience for the already known. I want adventure and I want it now!"
Gurb started laughing. "Patience is a virtue." Yes. Patience is all well and good, but I think it's a waste of my time. Gurb grabbed my shoulder.
"I think it's time for another beer."
Louis and I were walking through Leeuwarden a year ago when suddenly a red Ford Ka stopped in front of us. It was Gurb, casually driving around the city. He invited us into his car. We hopped in. Since that afternoon, the three of us were together. A few months later, Louis got a tattoo on his ribs in honor of our friendship. It was the name of our group chat. Braddar Force Indigo.
There were also days when Gurb would take me for a drive around Friesland. He reminded me how beautiful Friesland is. The world doesn't spin there. The newspapers I threw away in the Stiens forest in 2011 could still be lying in the same spot, so to speak.
Just before midnight, I found myself in line for the restroom. My eyes fell on a pair of striking shoes. Cigarette smoke invaded my nose for the fourth time. "Müssen Sie eine Zigarette haben?" a female voice spoke to me. I felt like Tom Hanks in the final scene of Angels & Demons, where the new pope first steps onto the balcony. The curtains opened. There I was, witnessing an important moment in history. I was just told how I was sent by God, but my ears didn't want to hear any of it. At least that's how I felt. My mouth was empty. I had no words left. That's when I knew for sure. Berlin might really be as crazy as literally everyone says.
Dark blond, silky hair. Was this real beauty then? She wouldn't look 40, but I think she was. A true woman. Beautiful in all her elegance. I always joked about being interested in older women, but tonight one stood in front of me. "I don't smoke," I said to her.
Someone tapped me. "Please, just go to the toilet!" He was right. I hadn't peed in a while either. My urine was cloudy. "Glomerulonephritis," I said to myself on the toilet. This is an unusual condition. It's an inflammation in the kidneys, I thought I remembered. They should never have given me access to Google.
The evening progressed, and Louis kept buying rounds. "But seriously now. How does Louis suddenly have all that money for drinks?" I asked Gurb. He was outside smoking with a group of Swiss girls. I had strategically positioned myself so that I could always leave the crime scene if necessary.
"You shouldn't ask me," said Gurb. He was laughing with the temporary girlfriend group of Louis. Gurb has a beard. A lot of chicks like that. I get it too.
As much as I enjoyed Louis and Gurb being here for me, something didn't sit right with me. It couldn't just be about the money. "What's up with him?" I heard one of the Swiss girls say to Gurb.
Those kinds of questions really tire me out. "Not much, with you?" I replied.
They all started laughing. "That's not what she meant, brother," said Gurb.
"I couldn't care less whether she meant it or not. Send that brace-face back to Switzerland. Don't drive me crazy, alright!"
Actually, I hadn't drunk that much that evening. "Two vodka Sprites, please!" It's rare for me to get just one drink. "I always get two drinks, then you have to wait shorter for the third one!" Maybe the alcohol was affecting me more than I wanted to admit. Oh well, it was still the three of us against the world.
"Nice shoes, are those Prada?" I asked a random girl at the bar.
"No, these are fake. Why would I buy real ones for 600 dollars if I could just buy these for 20?"
"..."
I'm not very good at that. Talking. To women.
Louis and Gurb were in the smoking area now. It was less blue than the dance floor itself. My clothes already stank, so a visit to the smoking area couldn't hurt. "These people are so underground!" Gurb shouted. Louis was filming him with his phone. "These people..." There was a brief pause. As if Gurb forgot the only line he had. "...so underground!" All three of us burst into laughter. The alcohol flowed through our veins as if it came from the purest mountains. People seemed doubled and the room was full. We had been in the same club in Berlin for several hours.
"Leonardo! What are you hiding from the big boss?" I sometimes called Louis ‘DiCaprio.’ "You a rich guy, now?" I said, with an accent as if I were from the Bronx.
Louis started laughing. "Eh, you know nothing. Bullshit talk."
I had to laugh too. What was I even worried about? Friends are friends, with or without money. That shouldn't matter. Louis probably just worked for that money. Maybe it wasn't as bad as I thought. Maybe he just had enough to buy rounds. But what if my gut feeling was right? That feeling was never wrong. Except for that one time at the Holland Casino in Groningen. Even the best of us have slip-ups. I was just getting worked up again. When it comes down to it, Louis is one of the sweetest guys I know. I had to let it go. After all, it's still Louis.
"I think I'm going to have sex soon, man," Louis said.
"With who?" I asked immediately.
"That one girl."
"Which one?"
"The one with the boobs."
"Oh, her. Just be careful."
"What kind of reaction is that?" Louis asked indignantly.
I'd only had four drinks, but I was acting like a mess. Louis was right. I didn't understand myself. Where was my head at? I'm here in Berlin, supposed to be having the time of my life, but here I am feeling lonely and sad again. Joost once again couldn't control his emotions.
"Sorry," I suddenly said to Louis. "Sorry for my behavior. Been acting dumb towards you all night. It's unnecessary." Sometimes I have that. Mood swings. "Know that crime is never the solution. We've talked about this so many times. Yes, it's tempting and sometimes easy money. I sometimes find it amusing too, but it's always hypothetical. Ask me for help. I can help you, even with illegal things. I'll always have your back." The dancing was kind of over.
The words I had just placed on Louis's plate came from my heart. My Frisian, irregular boys' heart.
Crying in the club. I had never seen myself like that. Crying, yes. In the club, no. I never understood the taboo around crying. Or emotions in general. I saw myself in the mirror. They weren't tears of joy. They weren't tears of sadness either. It was me letting everything go. All the emotions I had ever felt. The emotions I felt between my brother and sister and myself because they wanted to take on a parental role over me, but I was in puberty, so I pushed them away. The emotions I felt when my old neighbors were supposed to take care of my dog, but didn't tell me that he was bitten by one of their dogs. They didn't have money for the surgery, they later told me. They were ashamed of their lack of money. My dog died from this injury. Even the emotions that were all jumping at once during the retake for my swimming diploma A, I let go of.
No emotions. Just for a moment, not feeling anything. Is that too much to ask for?
"You still don’t smoke?"
It had to be the voice of the woman with the cigarettes. I looked over my shoulder through the mirror. It was her. The one with dark blond, silky hair.
"Not to be rude, but this is the men’s room," I said. She took a step closer and kissed me on my lips. It tasted like more. We started kissing. It had been a while since I had had female contact at this level. It probably didn't look good and it didn't feel good either. She started kissing my neck. Slowly, I noticed the pressure in the erectile tissues of my penis starting to increase. "I really don't have time for this!" I thought to myself. The woman with the cigarettes started to slowly sink down until she was on her knees. I didn't want this. Not now, not like this. She unraveled my penis from my Polo Ralph Lauren underwear. Her tongue was blue. It was probably from cheap shots of alcohol.
Was this real beauty then? Was this the beginning or the end of her story? And had I become the boy my parents hoped I would be? I thought about the fact that this was once someone's little daughter. Somewhere in the world, an old man might be wondering what his daughter is doing. Am I really putting pleasure above my own morals and values?
With my semi-erect circumcised penis still exposed, I lifted her up. After giving her a kiss on her forehead, I pulled up my pants and left the toilets.
It was the usual last hour in any club ever. I met Louis and Gurb at the bar. "Should we have another drink?" I asked Gurb. "I feel like having a cocktail. Something sweet. Lots of sugar. What about you?"
Gurb looked at the menu. "A cognac would go down well right now."
"A cognac? You're only nineteen!" Gurb and Louis laughed. "Two Tequila Sunrises please!" I called to the bartender. "Also, two beers! Thanks!" I also got a beer for Louis. At first, I didn't want to, but I didn't want to spoil the mood either. Besides, I didn't want to show too much that it bothered me so much.
We danced away the last minutes. The club closed, and we decided to walk with the group of Swiss girls. Apparently, they were staying nearby.
As I lagged behind the group, one of them tried to start a conversation with me. "Are you okay?" she asked kindly.
"I'm fine. Just had too much beer. Makes me sleepy." Not true at all, but I've heard people say that.
"You’re tired? The fun has only just began!" And as she said this, she pulled something out of her inner pocket. Her clenched fist, shielded by a half jacket. Who is this girl, anyway? I thought to myself. She opened her hand flat, and right in the center of her palm lay two small pills with a smiley face on them. At least, they looked like it.
"Oh, I don’t do drugs. Sorry."
"Me neither!" And she swallowed a pill. "Now it’s your turn... Or are you scared?"
Scared? Who did this crazy Swiss witch (with really beautiful eyes) think she was. With her "are you scared". I'll show her who's scared.
"Scared? I’m not scared." I picked up the remaining pill and swallowed it.
Everything went in slow motion. Was this who I had become? Was this the same boy from high school? And just before I could swallow, I spat out the pill. She was shocked. I picked up the pill again, dried it with my jacket, and put it back in her fist. "Maybe later!" I shouted, running back to the group, over my shoulder.
I have nothing to say to 9 out of 10 peers I come across. Of course, I can be social. I can also have fun with random people in random situations, but that night, it just tired me out. I also didn't understand what we were doing there. Those girls found me strange anyway. Suddenly, I was the fifth wheel.
"We know this place where they go until 7 in the morning!" The girl leader of the group spoke. I wanted to go home. "If you guys want, you can go. Don't worry about me," I said to Gurb and Louis. The boys had a brief discussion. We agreed to stay for just a little while longer for some drinks. I consented. I was thirsty. "I'll have a Fanta, Louis."
Gurb had reached the last cigarette in his pack. Louis and a girl from the group were nowhere to be found. It didn't even bother me. This guy just walks around with some cash in his pocket and all hell breaks loose. After a night full of stimuli, I understood Louis. Of course, I understood Louis. He's a young god. Handsome, smart guy. But that didn't make me any less angry. It was purely about trust for me. Something inside me said I should stop subconsciously expecting things from people too. It prevents disappointment.
"Hotel please!" I jokingly suggested to Gurb. "Should you call Louis or should I?" I added. Gurb immediately grabbed his Android smartphone and called Louis. He put the call on speaker.
"Are you ready?" Gurb asked.
"Yeah. Sort of."
"What do you mean?"
"We didn't have sex."
"That's fine, right? Tomorrow's a new day!"
"I think I'm in love, man," Louis said.
"...," Gurb said, chuckling as he let out a sigh.
Once we arrived at the girls' hostel, it was already getting light. Louis was thankfully back. There were stains on his pants, around his knees. My focus was solely on arranging a taxi. Although the boys were still flirting, I was really done now. "How are we going to pay for this taxi?" I said a bit too loudly.
There was a silence. "Don't worry. I still have cash," Gurb said.
"Yeah, I knew you would," I replied.
My words clearly hit Louis. "What do you mean by that?" he said.
It was as if time stood still for a few seconds. "Exactly what I said. Better listen." Louis pulled out a small wad of green bills from his pocket. At least 400 euros. "I don't even want to see that money," I reacted. I walked away.
I'll just order a taxi myself.
"Why are you walking away now?" Gurb said.
"Twelve hours ago, I was alone too, and I had a lot more fun then."
"Do you really want to know how I got this money?" Louis said.
Yes, I did want to know. My whole evening revolved around that damn money.
He took a second of pause before he began speaking. "The answer lies in the Mini."
What on earth could be in Gurb's mother's car? Louis was trying to get into my head. "Taxi!"
Once in the taxi, the division was clear. Gurb was upfront, chatting animatedly with the driver. All adventures ever were recounted. Louis and I in the back. One of my best friends since I was thirteen. Funny how things turn out. It was quiet between us. I was in my head, rehearsing how I would bring up the money again. It didn't add up, and he knew it himself. "I don't care, you know," I said, hoping he'd break.
"What don't you care about?"
"About that money."
"What money? You're really a crazy woozy man." Louis burst out laughing again.
On the other hand, it was silent. Gurb had started talking about the driver's family. The driver didn't appreciate it. Gurb meant well. The driver smelled of alcohol. Or was it me? His nails were polished. Maybe his wife was a specialist. I bite my nails myself. Like now.
"In the Mini, oh yeah."
"Shut up. Illegal man."
"You'll never know."
"Stop playing. Just say it!"
Louis grabbed my head, pulled himself towards me, and brought his mouth to my right ear. "Why so serious?" he whispered. He didn't want to tell me.
"But always with this damn money, huh?" I almost shouted at Louis. I broke every silence within a radius of 10 kilometers.
"I'm trying my best, bro. It is what it is. I can't make it any different," he replied. It was clearly bothering him deeply. He ran his hands through his hair. "Sometimes people have to do things. And you know that better than anyone. Sometimes they have to do things they don't really want to or aren't supposed to do."
I knew this spiel all too well. Through all the drunken haziness, I suddenly saw a small glimmer of light. A tiny spark of sincerity. Louis was serious this time.
"I'm sorry. I didn't want to involve you in this. I'm sorry," sweat dripped from his forehead.
"You're serious, huh? Damn, man. What mess have you gotten yourself into now? Worse than Terschelling?" Worse than Terschelling would mean stolen goods. Maybe even violence.
"It's not what you think."
"The Adlon Hotel, right?" the driver chimed in. Always saved by the bell, that Louis.
Suddenly I hit my head against the seat in front of me. Of course, I wasn't wearing my seatbelt. The last thing I saw was Gurb waking up in panic from his drunken stupor. One by one, I started losing my senses. It started with the feeling in my fingers. For a brief moment, everything wasn't quite black, and I could only see a vague pattern of colors repeating inside my eyelids. You could compare it to the brief moment after the commercial break before the movie starts in the cinema. The movie was about to begin.
I knew I wasn't dying. At least not yet. Not like this. Not after an overall mediocre night out in Berlin. I found comfort in the image I forced myself to see. It was all in my head. There I was, unconscious.
I saw myself in a third-person point of view. It wasn't like I was actually leaving my body. More like there was a webcam hanging in one of the upper corners of the taxi.
As a child, I used to dream a lot about death. Nights spent awake.
At some point, I developed a kind of compulsive behavior. I kept swaying my torso from left to right with my hands under my head. It became almost like a workout before bedtime. Every night.
I called it dream shuffling. Just like I had learned to shuffle puzzle pieces or playing cards. Making things a little exciting for yourself. But what I almost never told anyone was that I was scared. I was afraid of burglars, who were very agile and muscular.
Especially afraid that they would murder me. I really wanted to know what death was like. It scared me.
These fear visions originated during an all-inclusive vacation in Turkey. I was 6 years old and already in bed. There was a big old TV in our hotel room, so I could secretly watch TV from bed. Every evening, my parents sat on the balcony. Here they discussed their day while enjoying a glass of alcohol. There was a Japanese animated series on TV. In the few seconds that I watched, I saw a scary creature climbing a sort of apartment complex via the balconies. The creature had hundreds of teeth and blond hair. It quickly entered to decapitate the people, then drained them and, as a final insult, robbed them. Dozens of carcasses of dead people were scattered around the apartment complex. The complex on TV resembled the resort where we were in reality, and the TV world merged with my surroundings. I became part of it. I saw people watching. No matter how loudly I screamed for help, they didn't react. The sun became very bright, and the people turned into nothing more than shadows. As the intensity of the sun increased, something became clear to me. These were not people. They had a sort of orange skin. Where I had previously thought it was their nose and mouth, it turned out that these shadowy figures did not have such physical features. They simply had three holes in their heads. The police tried to do something, but in vain. Since then, we always kept the light on in the hallway outside my bedroom. By rocking back and forth, from left to right, I could glance fleetingly at the beam of light under the door. That bit of light, escaping from the hallway into my room, gave me an advantage. It allowed me to stay one step ahead of the burglars. Pretty smart, right?
"From Jamaica to the world!
It’s just love. Why must the children play in the street?"
It was Bob Sinclar with "Love Generation" speaking to us through the taxi's speakers. We were stationary. I was conscious again, but I didn't feel alive at all. "How long was I out?" I asked Louis.
I could tell by his expression that he was relieved. Relieved that I was back. "One minute," he almost apologized. Louis gave me a pat on the shoulder. Gurb, on the other hand, was sleeping. He slept like a baby cub.
I put my right index finger on my forehead. It felt wet, but it wasn't blood. Blood feels different. Meanwhile, I kept hearing whistling.
"Be the love generation! Oh yeah!" It was still that same song by Bob Sinclar.
The earlier scent of alcohol had now been replaced by the smell of incense. It smelled like the same incense I had in my room. Sold to me as Tibetan 39 incense. I had bought it at a coffee shop in Rotterdam. I pulled up my notes on my phone. "Who lights incense in a CAR????" I let Louis read from my screen. He took the phone from my hands and started typing as well.
"Look at Gurb >>>" Gurb was so deeply asleep that his head drooped. His seatbelt held his torso in place, but his head ended up on the driver's shoulder. The man didn't mind. He didn't move. I made eye contact with the driver through the rearview mirror, and soon I found him. He winked at me.
We arrived at the hotel. Gurb awakened from his alcoholic hibernation. "Who's going to pay for the taxi?" I asked. Clearly rhetorical. I already knew I would take this one for the team, as usual. I refused to use Louis's money. It was uncomfortably quiet. "By card please," I said.
"I'll always protect you, Louis. You really need to know that. I care about you like my own little brother. I'll always try to help you. But you have to be honest with me. Can you do that?" Louis didn't hesitate.
"Yes. Yes, I can. I'll show you. It's really in the Mini." Meanwhile, the taxi driver's card machine indicated that I had insufficient funds. That couldn't be right. Maybe I had withdrawn too much that evening.
"I have cash in the hotel room," Gurb said to me. Gurb informed the driver in broken English that he would go get his cash. The driver agreed. Money is money, whether it comes now or later. As long as it feels good in your hands.
Louis and I got out of the taxi. "You're not going to light a cigarette now, are you?" Louis wanted to smoke. "Especially for stress. That's really for people who can't handle pain. You need to feel pain. Pain needs to brand you for the rest of your life so you finally learn not to do such stupid things." It fell silent again. My blood boiled. All pots were on the stove. I felt like Gordon Ramsay in the kitchen. "Show me then. Do it."
Louis remained silent and walked around the corner of the hotel. Towards the parking lot. I followed him. "You're not going to find much," said Louis.
"Why not? Are you a magician?"
"No. Just. Not much."
"So there's suddenly magically nothing in Gurb's car?"
"Stop. Get out. Get out of my head!" Louis shouted. Louis had had enough. He was done with the parade. Normally we dealt with hypothetical stories. Only this time it wasn't a joke. I was sure now. Louis had dropped his mask. The revolution had begun. The government had fallen and the dikes had broken. The people were in charge. "You shouldn't freak out like this. Always wanting more. Sweet boy, think about yourself."
After Gurb gave the money to the driver, he came to us. He had a smile on his face, lit a cigarette, and exclaimed, "Brothers!" Once with us, he hugged me. He started laughing. "Maybe I haven't been entirely honest either." Sometimes Gurb seemed like a 38-year-old man. In a positive way. He exuded confidence in a way I didn't often see. Affectionate, with a hint of authority.
We stood in the middle of a large parking lot. "Look. We've reached a point where I might not even care anymore. You guys are teasing me." It did matter to me. Maybe more than ever. I was supposed to be two steps ahead of them, but I couldn't figure it out. "I give up."
The delightful silence returned. Louis and Gurb looked at each other. "You guys win. Apparently, I'm not to be trusted as a friend."
From Louis's expression, I could tell he disagreed with this. "Not true. Come to the car."
We arrived at the car. Louis unlocked it and searched for the trunk button. Gurb had started his third cigarette. "It's a corpse, isn't it? Say it now. I can still help you. I can still help us. I can book a ticket for you. We can get you out of here," I said to Louis.
"Just wait. Nutcase."
"Why won't you accept my help?"
Louis started laughing nervously. Or at least it seemed that way. Perhaps a sly laugh too. Had Louis killed someone? "It's not a corpse. That can't be. You wouldn't be stupid enough to use their ID. You're smarter than that. So it must be something stolen. Haven't you found that button yet?"
Suddenly, we heard a click. Louis had found the button. Somewhere, I didn't want to know. Shouldn't I just trust Louis? Wasn't that the whole point of friendship?
Finally, the moment had arrived. I placed my right hand in the slot of the rear hatch. Something in me doubted. Still. I still doubted. Louis looked dead serious. "You wanted to know, didn't you? Then you also have to be man enough to accept it." Louis was clearly not joking. Or was he acting again? "Pussy," Louis said. I looked away. "You're afraid of what's inside, huh? You're afraid of the real Louis." He began to laugh manically. "Open that thing, man. Nutcase!"
I started laughing too. Why did I make such a big deal out of it? Sweat broke out from every pore in my body. It was even a bit damp in the no man's land between my scrotum and my anus. A tropical climate. It had been quite an adventure the whole evening. I took my hand off the rear hatch and first gave Louis a hug. Not some half-hearted birthday wish. No, a real hug.
"It's okay, buddy," Louis said to me. I had no idea what he meant by that. It fit the moment though.
It was really time now. I opened the rear hatch.
"Where is it?"
"In front of you," said Louis.
"In some secret compartment?"
There was nothing in the trunk. Absolutely nothing. An empty trunk. For an empty evening, in an empty Berlin, with an empty group of guys. I didn't get it.
"You won, man," I whispered. "You finally fucking done did it."
I couldn't believe my eyes. Empty? There was still nothing in the car. Louis just stood there. Emotionally, I was a wreck. I had felt every emotion this evening. Seen every color and smelled every scent. I was done. My body was ready. No longer needed. My mission was complete.
"But why did you do this?" I asked Louis, laughing.
He scratched his chin. It felt like the end of a bad movie.
"I sold our Playstation. Wanted to tell you only after I had sorted everything out again. I terminated my lease. Had some debts, and I also wanted to have some money for once. Once not empty-handed in the club. Once not dependent on my best friends. This is not who I am... I know how much that Playstation meant to you. It was ours together. I should have just told you."
"… and how does Gurb actually make his money?"

My mom has always been very anti-religion my entire life and a couple years ago she essentially came out as Christian. She was crying and telling me how worried she is for me and how she knows that I hate god (even though I don't believe in one???). I've had a lot of mental health stuff and she told me that she used to be so scared of me killing myself that she prayed on it and god told her that I won't die until I'm saved so its just my destiny I guess. She told me this as a warning because "Jesus will break your legs to get you there" and she wanted to save me from that pain. Jesus sounds like a narcissistic asshole. Pass. I just told her that I'm glad that she's happier now but that's not my thing.
For a while she was very annoying about trying to convert me and would say that if she wasn't trying to get me into heaven then she clearly didn't love me. I told her that this behavior wouldn't change my mind it would just make me not want to be around her anymore. She told me "if that's how it has to happen, so be it." Ouch. She refused to consume any "secular" media ie: normal ass movies that she's enjoyed since the 90's. She would very regularly lecture me on how every single thing I enjoy is satanic or evil in some way, ESPECIALLY my music. So far I've learned that jesus will abuse you until you love him, christianity means not giving a fuck if your kid never speaks to you again and anything that brings anyone joy is bad.
At one point she told me that when I told her I'm just glad that she's happy that she wanted to tell me she's the most miserable she's ever been.
She's calmed down a lot recently and isn't so aggressive about converting me. She does still try to trick me by doing things like showing me a new "metal" band that I might like and it's just another shitty christian singer. Last night she broke down crying and said that she's just so miserable here on Earth and that every night she prays that she doesn't wake up. All she wants to do is join god and since being saved all she can see is all of the bad around her. She has always struggled with mental health but becoming christian seems to have made it so much worse. I've always thought that people turn to religion to make themselves feel better so I'm completely lost as to why my mom is doing this to herself.
She has become very nasty and judgemental in the name of god but if she ever does anything wrong she'll quote some shit about not judging others from the bible. She also became homophobic over night.
Some of her craziest christian hot takes:
She once told me that she's jealous of one of the mothers of a child who died in a school shooting because her daughter was a martyr.
There are invisible ghost things that whisper to babies while they sleep and make them gay.
She won't quit smoking because if god wanted her to quit he would've taken the urge away when she was saved.
She's OK with my little sister dying because she's a believer and would go to heaven but if I died she'd be upset because she'd know I'm going to hell.
It is sinful and unnatural for us to get treated for our bipolar because that's how god made us. (We're very miserable and bad to other people without medication and therapy but ok).
My little sister was in a very controlling, abusive relationship and he would make her dress a certain way which is obviously bad and my mom agreed. Now she has a christian boyfriend who makes her dress a certain way but my mom thinks it's endearing because this time it's in the name of god.
Christians are the most oppressed group.
We should teach christianity in public schools.
Tattoos are bad and sinful UNLESS they're religion related.
God cured her of her fear of spiders when she was saved.

TLDR: Wife (32F) of 10 years cheated on me (34M) and got pregnant. She aborted and wants to get back with me. She has has contact a couple times with her ex in the past 6 months since they broke up for "closure". I'm not sure to believe her or not.
To be clear, I haven't been the best husband to her either. Since almost the first day of marriage I would get mad at her for minor things and yell at her or say things with an attitude sometimes, mostly without noticing. Unfortunately this went on for about 5-6 years. Within that time I was physically abusive to her a handful of times when I would lose my temper. Everytime I would would say that I was sorry and that I wouldn't do it again but it would continue. The whole time she swore to love me with her whole heart but I was slowly killing her love for me.
Finally on year 7 I attempted to hit her but she blocked me. At that moment she realized enough was enough. She swore to divorce me but I told her I wouldn't let her. She cried for about 3 months straight losing her mind because she could not comprehend how she could be over me and hate me even though she loved me so much. It was at that time that I realized my old internal methods of trying to stop me from abusing her would never work. It was then when I sought out therapy. It was only then when I gained the necessary emotional skills to control my emotions and not lose my temper that much and the physical abuse ceased completely. But it was too late.
A few months later I realized that she deserved for me to give her the divorce. It was the most loving thing to do. I told her I would agree to divorce her. But she never took me up on the offer and just blamed me for not initiating the process. I loved her so much that I also decided that if she would stay I would take all of her verbal abuse and scorn until one day she could forgive me because I felt I deserved it.
She would still explode on me for the smallest things but I would keep my calm as best as I could. Months later we went through with moving to a different city together and we bought a house in the new city. Something we had always been planing.
However before we left she told me she would start giving herself a chance with different men. So she started going out a lot and partying. As a matter of fact on year 6 she started being unfaithful and I caught her flirting over text with a bouncer she met. I cried for about two weeks straight. I tracked her phone and caught her outside the guys apartment talking with her along with her friend. She still didn't change her attitude. She stopped talking to the guy after I cussed him out. However between year 7-10 she had about 2 guys she had talked to romantically over phone and text but she never moved out. Always eventually breaking up with them and me having to deal with her sad moods.
Close to year 10 she started talking to a guy in the city we moved to when he reached out to her via social media. She was %100 convinced he was "the one" just because of how he talked to her and the trauma they shared. She told me he was an "ex" drug dealer and had tattoos all over and carried a gun all the time. But that he had left all that life behind him haha I told her she was making a mistake and he was a bad person and only bad things would happen to her if she gave him a chance. She didn't listen and at that point moved out to an apartment.
Long story short, their two month afair was, sure enough, full of manipulation, toxicity, controling, and the most stressful life she's ever had. She was forced to have her every move tracked. During this time she became very close to his 9 year old daughter. She would almost always spend nights over at his house but say she would sleep in the daughter's room every time. She would be partying with him almost 7 nights a week while trying to hold down a job. In the end, after him breaking up with her about 5 times within the span of two months she found out she was pregnant.
I visited her at her apartment on our 10 year anniversary while she was pregnant with another mans child. We had so many plans for our 10 year. She missed out on so much. Even then I gave her a few gifts that I had bought before I knew she was pregnant. I wouldn't have gotten anything otherwise. I didn't want to give them to her but I would've felt like an Indian giver if I didn't.
It was only then that she realized that it wouldn't work out with that piece of trash. She called me and told me she needed help. I never told her to get an abortion but she knew that if she didn't it would be the final straw for me because I never wanted kids and I'll be damned if I had to raise some scum of the Earth's child. It wasn't after I helpped her get the abortion that "she realized I would be with her through thick and thin". I didn't pay for the procedure though. She apologized pretty sincerely about that relationship and for cheating and all the other relationships she's had. She said she really regrets hurting me.
Shortly afterward she told me she wanted to try things again after 3+ years of disregard and emotional abuse trying to find her happiness. I held strong through it all but the fact she got pregnant was the ultimate sin against me in my book.
She never had sex with any other man until she met this trash of a human. And I believe her on that. We literally saw him with another bitch while my wife was pregnant by the way. When she first confessed she was pregnant to me I asked her how many times they had sex and she said two. Later, after the abortion, when I finally had courage to start talking to her about this very hurtful subject she said they only had sex once and that she was blacked out at the time and doesn't remember anything about that night. I don't know what to make of her changing her story from having sex 2 times to 1.
I asked her how many times she blacked out with him and she told me a total of two nights but that other night she blacked out she asked him if they had sex and he said no. The time they did have sex the next morning he right away told her they had sex. He also told her he wanted to get her pregnant because he wanted a family. This scumbag of a person probably planned it all out. He made sure to fuck her on her fertile days and make sure she was blacked out in the process. She had never wanted to be physical with any of the guys she's talked to and I believe her.
So if all of this is true then she was technically raped because she was blacked out. If that was true, then that would make me an ass hole for hating her for getting raped. We have been getting couples therapy but gaining trust in her again is hard. She is still really hurt from the pain I've caused her as well. However slowly my love has gone from a %10 right after she told me she got pregnant to a present %30. The pregnancy alone killed my love %60 for her instantly.
So this brings us to the present day. She has told me she thinks he's a piece of trash and even gave him the nickname "trash". However she has always missed his daughter she became very close to over those two months. However it's been about 6 months now since the break up and abortion and this trash requests her on social media and starts sending her messages again. At first for a week she ignored them and said she wasn't going to answer. But eventually she started saying there were some things she needed closure on. She also confessed she still had feelings for him, which I get, but also that the door is still open for him.
After a week she came into the house crying uncontrollably. She said this trash called her and she answered and he said that his daughter missed her a lot. He said he couldn't talk now but that he would call her back in a bit. She said she was crying so much because she felt sad that his daughter still missed her so much. She said she would answer when he called her back. I told her not to answer but she said she didn't care. I told her in that case I would be present for the call but she didn't want me to be there. I told her if she didn't have anything to hide to let me. She said she wouldn't feel comfortable if I was present. I told her I didn't want her talking to him and this would only push us apart and she didn't care.
After almost a whole hour talking to her ex she said he just told her how much the daughter missed her and how he was so sorry about everything blah blah blah. My wife told him it wasn't right for her to talk to the daughter with out the mother's permission. She later told me it was really selfish of him to just unload his feelings on her just to make himself feel better and to get it off his chest. She said she didn't even want to ask anything for closure anymore at that point.
I was fairly mad at her but I would probably let it slide if it was a one time thing. A few days later, he called her again. I told her not to call him back, she didn't care and said she would call him. So I told her, if she doesn't have anything to hide then record the call, again she refused. I told her if she called him back then our relationship would probably never work and I would love her even less than I do now. She didn't give a shit and called him back. A little while later she came back in very excited saying the daughter wanted to facetime her. I told her I didn't care. This time she went into the next room as opposed to making the call from inside her car.
At this point I got my stuff and started getting ready to leave to the gym. I couldn't be in the house anymore, I was so mad. She eventually ended the call and asked what I was doing. I told her I was leaving and I didn't want to talk with her at all until later that night. Once at the gym she text me saying I didn't care about leaving her alone even though I know she has abandonment issues. I told her how am I supposed to care if she doesn't care about me? She says whether she stops talking to him or not is her business. I told her it's my business if she wants a relationship with me. Then she proceeds to attack my flaws.
Is this relationship even worth fighting for anymore? Or am I finally on the cusp of finally gaining back the relationship that I always wished I had with her since day one? Or have I simply been a cuck this whole time? Or have I finally taken the punishment I deserved for the 5+ years of physical and metal abuse I inflicted on her? Am I overreacting about the no-contact I want her to have with the ex? What is your read on this situation? Am I stupid or commendable.

For a decade online there's been debate about a census record of a person named polly with 3 question marks beside her name. The confusion of Abraham Tinker, and Edward Tinker. And the confusion of who Polly Hobday was.
Or the letters, written by Edward to an Elizabeth during the murder trial in which he was hanged.
Or the existence of William.
Or the existence of eastern Cherokee tribe ties.
Or the existence of tinkers with the Osage tribe
Or the influences of missionaries, adoptions, kidnapping, enslavement. Enslaved.
The wheel that turns by Louis f burns and the valuable influence to the Osage history of his tinker ancestors, and the struggle to find a copy to confirm
Interracial marriages, trail of tears, land stolen, and wars.
Confusing indigenous influence, confusing oral histories.
A bad game of telephone. Sparked by generations of identity complexes, greed, confusion, and romantization of small traces of shared blood.
Blood, that carries the DNA, and the genes that make my family. Sick.
Generations of cancer. Multiple kinds. Neurological disorders. Mental disorders. My spinal disorder.
Which led me to getting sterilized, to end the cycle with me. I'm the final leaf in the branch.
Why I'm posting about all of this,I recently made a post about the oral history of the "Cherokee princess" myth in my family.
It's led me down a weird journey, one that I'm having to sort out information, and complex triggers I didn't really reconize till now.
In doing so I've looked at my dad's DNA matches with skepticism and I will also be doing mine too.
I've been reading very valuable information from "Tink" Tinker who is a theology professor and has written such important journals about the nuanced, complex, dark, and most of all important histories of the colonization of indigenous culture and how they influenced indigenous people as well.
I don't beleive I'm in relation to him whats so ever, however the vast research and critical eye to so many events and things have been extremely helpful in my goal of looking at my own family.
Unlike the Cherokee syndrome that took off during the time my dad was a kid, one thing kind of confused me.
My dad, grandmother, aunts, all talk about how my great grandmother whom I seen a few times when young actually could speak some "cherokee". I found out as well when my dad was very young my great great grandmother was very much alive and in his life as well in his early years.
The problem is this. I'm my father's only child. My dad, married my step mom and most of my life my interactions with my dad's side of the family, at most happened during the times I was 5-8 years old. Every time I went to my great grandmother's, my grandmother's, and even growing up my own father has always had indigenous inspired decor. He still does.
I have adopted Lakota family, so as a kid this concept of indigenous identity became unfortunately this obsession to try to deal with trauma going on around me. I had two issues. I was trying to understand the Cherokee family history, and the "gypsy" history that also was told to me on my mother's side. I know... I know...
All of this, is alot. It sparked old issues. Old wounds.
I would often fall into my own imagination as a child. The problems I had as a kid had to do with my lack of self identity due to parentification put onto me when I turned 6. Then the complex trauma of having step siblings, family, and my dad remarriage behind my back. I had an autistic step sister who was very violent and a step brother that would get away with things, and I'd be punished for them. From one dysfunctional family, to the other.
When I moved when I was 8, I didn't even see my grandmother until I was 16, and again for a suprise Thanksgiving visit in 2018. In which she and my step grandmother who was one of the few of the step family that made me feel like actual family became fast friends.
These small, short parts of my life connecting to my actual biological family has been so limited, but all I've had. It was a greif I never was able to explore because when I'd say "real family" I was punished. Identity became difficult. I had to be a mom, when I was supposed to be a sister. I had to be a sister, before I could be a friend. I had to be complacent, when adults spoke to me. I had to be seen. Not heard.
When I talked to much, I was called "moter mouth". I became so used to being ignored, that I began ignoring myself too. Now the moter goes off when somthing ignites a trauma response in me.
Any shred of identity I had, was a fabrication. One that I thankfully, grew out of.
My adopted indigenous aunt, and my cousins were the closest thing to family. So indigenous culture I learned was through my aunt whom began trying to reconnect with hers due to never having her own culture in her life. She taught me alot and when I grew out of believing in myths, I beleive her influence on that helped me look at it all with respect.
I wanted to understand, and as I got older I realized the Cherokee princess myth was not real I let it go. The gypsy thing fizzled out fast when I realized it was a slur and It made me feel so icky, it still does, that I quickly put an end to it.
If there happens to be anyone related to Tink Tinker reading this. I'd really like to extend my thanks for his very important influence in the field of understanding various researches into topics. He has provided a complete stranger far more awnsers, and impacted them. I can see why he is such a well respected teacher. If you get the chance, please read his works.
Similar to my aunts influence when I was a confused child, his informative teachings helped me as a confused adult make sure I keep trying to look at all of this coming back up with much more respect.
It reaffirms my own philosophy, you can learn valuable and life changing lessons from anyone. Anywhere. From any walk of life.
The problem that led me to finding his work, was due to a trauma response. The cycle continued, without me realizing it.
What sparked this search was because I had just gotten out of the hospital, for somthing that I neglected to have handled soon enough. Purely, because my family has always treated health issues. Spacifically cancers with one philosophy. "Were all just fleas on a dog's back"
To show an example of this,
My dad went to my graduation with a screw in his foot, before he sought any form of medical treatment. It caused an infection. It caused me to realize a habit, a family habit.
We don't do anything, until somthing festers.
I didn't do anything about my gallbladder, dispite many serious issues. Until it was literally, festering. Putting it off, because I was too focused on my step family and the trauma going on right now. The dysfunction that led to my worsened health, and the dysfunctional family system connected to my step family being the real roots, that are intertwined in me.
In ways, Strangling, me.
Again.
History repeated itself.
Once out of the hospital, I turned back into that kid.
I wanted, my family. Or, mabye that version of family I've unconsciously still held onto. Looked for. Longed for.
I'm in a complex situation with my step family, and my father is mixed in with it. My step brother told me I'm not family, because ive been trying to stand up for things i never used to. I went to a family event, and only my dad treated me like a daughter. Dispite me getting into it with him.
My step mom, treated me like a threat. It opened up very Old wounds. All of this was mere weeks before I got hospitalized. In which my step mother and brother visited me separately from my father and my adopted siblings whom are step cousins. It sparked that inner child infront of the computer all over again.
Looking through book, articles, newspapers, photos. Hoping she reconized, her family. Or moreso her "Cherokee princess" ancestor.
So much so, I fell into obsession again. Family. Where we come from. What was told to me, that was a lie?
My post I asked. How far back does the white washing go?
I think I really needed to ask how far back, does the trauma go?
In my weeks of intensive researching i decided to take a break, come back slower. More critical, and solid evidence.
Ive learned, Identity is a fickle thing. When you don't understand it, yourself, or even what helped create you today, things become dysmorphic.
I have problems since I was a child seeing myself in a mirror. I see the scary parts of my parents. I see my face morph into something I'm not. I still can't reconize my face.
I always look away from eyes because when I was 4 I got in trouble for looking into my step mother's eyes, and her being so mad at me I guess I told her she has snakes in her eyes when she pulled my face up to hers.
It's a story that's retold and joked about but, I often wonder if I said that because I had problems as a child understanding extreme childhood trauma that had happened to me a year prior. Anger behind the eyes was my earliest trigger, before I ever knew it.
2 weeks ago, I looked into her eyes. I didn't get bit by the snake. Or, I thought.
After the hospital I been experiencing myoclonic spasms. I have Neurological issues that are diagnosed so I got scared. The spasms i usually get are below the waist or one limb due to the spine damage. I've always had night terrors, spasms, screams, and shaking in my sleep. Ever since I was 4.
Waking up to my entire body and head shaking, then unable to sleep because once I drifted again, it happened.
Its explainable, so somthing unexplainable to me scared me. Later I realized it's probably from the medications. Sadly panicked before I could be rational in which I feel emberessed as I try to be rational as much as possible.
My step mother. Sister, and brother have seizures. I've helped them through them. So i knew what one looked like.
I didn't think it was a seizure like that but I couldn't sleep. For 4 days. I was a mess. When I was told they are harmless, I began adjusting to them. So much so their frequency has lessened.
Then 2 weeks ago, they came back.
1 week ago. They came more Persistant. I think, it's obvious now it's caused by trauma. The body does such strange things when it's triggered. My life I've always been so disconnected from my body due to medical trauma, neglect, and trauma. Things like that still suprise me when I realize the source of it.
Right after having them though, guess what I did?
Ancestors. History. Archeology. Searching. Searching. Searching..
Today, im supposed to interact with them again.
Guess what I did when I first got up?
Searching. A mystery. Of who polly was.
Those 3 question marks. Staring at me. A name, unknown. Identity, forgotten, erased.
Who was she?
Where did she come from?
What was her life like?
3 questions. 3 distractions.
Who are the tinkers?
Was the indigenous ancestors in my life real?
Who was polly?
3 questions. 3 distractions.
We're they Irish?
We're they Osage?
We're they Cherokee?
3 questions. 3 distractions.
You get the point.
Identity, can be so easily erased.
Blood can be traced, every detail about them can't.
Influence, you leave behind on others are what carries through history. Documents, stories, cultures, and traditions.
People argue about how you should and shouldn't treat family. They express some unspoken oath, when you're family to never defy them. Never turn your back on them. Mine, does all the time. Even though they're step.
Trauma, is what divides family though. People get torn from their family, their cultures, traditions, and have go build themselves adapted to what enviorment they were born into.
It's almost like, everyone is Searching for family. Identity. Validation of what makes them, them.
How much of that is sparked by generational trauma?
How far back, do I need to search to finally see myself in the mirror?
The awnser is there. In 3 questions.
Who am I?
How do I impact people?
Who has impacted me?
Patterns, repeat for a reason.
I hope, my story can help influence those with complex trauma explore the ties of searching for their ancestors, and the influences of people not from the same tree. It's hard. Alot, and likely confusing but I'm ambitious as much as I'm neurotic. I'd like to come back, with a more critical eye, and learn. Not with the goal of finding myself, but the goal, of helping others.
That's why I'm having brick walls. Im building on uneven foundation.
Thank you everyone who's helped me on this path. The resources. The stories, and relatablility you've found in my past post.
I appreciate all of it.