As a young teenager my dad had this stereo. I’d get some time at home with his setup I’d put a record on, crank it up and love it. For years it didn’t matter, family, work, and obligations! Played with sound, surround sound, cd’s, whatever seemed popular. Time passes, the those simple times come to mind. So starts my pursuit of that sound, that feeling. Now the beginning of this soon to become chase predates today’s access to information… internet, or maybe my grasp of it. I make my way to a local audio shop… the creepy little salesman is in heaven! I walk out with a Yamaha receiver, Yamaha cd player, and a cool looking pro-ject turntable, and a set of paradigm speakers. Wire it up, add some cd’s, a little vinyl…. Unreal, I was crushed, horrible. The sound disappointed me so badly, I shut it off. Not a clue, it’s a stereo .. right. Back to the salesman. Solution? Speakers!!! Let’s get you these! Next thing you know, I’ve got a set of Klipsch RF-7’s in the living room. Better!!! But the sound??? It’s really exhausting, piercing, still not there. Just, no balls, no depth, no top end. Back to the salesman. Well the reciever only puts out a hundred watts. You need more power!!!! Ok? How do I do that? “Well you need this” an Anthem power amp! “Ok” Damn! Things have come to life now, I’m happy? It’s still “bright” pitchy. Still exhausting and just not making me happy. But 5 or 6 years go by and little changes are made, but interest drops and music is just OK. Things change, life moves on, and the opportunity for a music room comes up, interest peaks out again, and the rabbit hole comes into view. Times have changed and the internet comes into play. Thoughts drop back to my teenage years and dad’s stereo. Reading through reviews, forum sites here on Reddit etc. I realize, damn, the old man must have been pretty cool! Pioneer SA-7500 Pioneer tape deck (who knows what model) HPM100’s Technics Turntable Some crazy graphic equalizer. 1978, that was some pretty cool stuff! Not wanting to get involved with the complexity’s of vintage, but I’ve got to be able to capture that sound, right? During what I realize now was a journey, the RF-7’s are gone, to big, ugly, and took to much room away from my girl!!! Not to mention the brightness, god those tweeters beating my eardrums. Still got the Yamaha, the Anthem back in the box. Settled on a set of Wharfedale Dentons without the power amp for casual listening. Now during this time of non pursuit things have changed. Technics is back, old school speakers are available. Rock boxes are back in vogue. Scoured the internet, read reviews until my head hurt. Audio store and creepy salesman is long gone. Thank god! Speakers that is what I need! Ordered a set of KLH model 5’s. Back order. Frustration grows… now the good people at KLH want to help! I’m dealing with Dave, the CEO of this speaker company! He sends me a pair of Model 3’s, to get me by until the 5’s come available! Great people, by the way. Hook em up to the Yamaha and the Anthem… horrible, horrible, right back to the Klipsch thing. Vintage, that’s got to be it!!! Only solution. Marketplace here we go, bought a pair of 70’s vintage Kenwood rock boxes. Wow, now we’re getting there! Sounds great to these now 60 year old ears, but still bright, pitchy, tiring. Time to get serious. “I’m going to do this, how hard can it be?” More internet time, more research, more pain in the center of my skull. I’ve come to realize that there is a lot to this stuff. Enter Marantz… all this dissatisfaction… speakers. It was an obsession. Natural sound… warmth… analogue. I am not what I would call an audiophile? Just a guy wanting a sound!!! Pulled the trigger, ordered a Marantz model 30 integrated amp… warm? Gotta be better right? Marantz model 30 Technics SL-100c Nagaoka mp-200 cartridge Still got the Yamaha cd player REL classic-98 sub… to help the now gone Dentons! All hooked up to the vintage Kenwood speakers. Whoooo. Awesome, I’m feeling it…. But those speakers kind of muddy (my word btw)… hook up the KLH model 3’s. These model 3’s are amazing!!! Absolutely amazing. Maybe 100 hrs. on them, broke in now. The positioning there! Sub virtually defeated. Teamed up with this Marantz model 30, using the internal phono preamp. Records are beautiful. CD’s fantastic. My god, I’m there deep in the rabbit hole…. Completely satisfied, this setup has brought me back to those stolen days with dad’s system. The KLH model 3’s are beautiful, I could stop right now, but the model 5’s will be here in July! Who knows what kind of listening pleasure those bad boys will bring!!!! Lesson’s learned? I’m not a Yamaha natural sound guy. Not real a sub lover! Marantz model 30 perfect KLH great people, great stuff! Next moves, those model 5’s The Marantz SACD-30 next and start playing with streaming stuff!!! Stay tuned…

1. Carlin had a big week of giggles and guffaws for the camera. She took an influencer trip to Skyland Ranch, used a Billie Eilish song on an IG reel of her children and then gaslit her audience into believing she and Evan have well known catchphrases “CrAAzy”, “Love, Bye” and “bruh”. They slapped these random words on hats and TShirts and people STOOD IN THE RAIN to buy them. I saw a grown azz man in a “BRUH” hat. Other wild things that happened at their Cash and Carry sale included someone taking pics of their kids in front of the Tesla, referring to the dresses as “she” and calling their vlog “vloggy”.I have cringed too much over all of it. Layla put on a full show for the camera at a nail salon AND the dance studio while Zade earned his keep wearing pretend high heel shoes. They wrapped it all up in a big terrible bow by featuring Hobby Lobby.
   
2. Whitney played second fiddle all week to Carlin… folding shirts, holding babies and modeling Temu dresses that they marked up 347%. Zach was back in the Bates Kitchen this week and decided the best way to get views was to bring in the kids so we got to watch Kacie mix and mess and poke around in cake mix and canned frosting to concoct cake pops. Then the grossest thing happened… ZACH BATES FARTED. During a COOKING SHOW. IN THE KITCHEN. I mean he ripped a big ole juicy poot and they all laughed and decided to air it and then they SOLD those dang FART POPS at the Cash and Carry sale. He also made some terrible Psychology jokes. I bet soon enough they will have “fart pops” on a hat for sale.
   
3. The Balka crowd were living it up this week in a 600$ a night beachfront condo that included a beach chair service. This family trip was really just a content mill and man did Josie churn it out. She is full on exploiting her children while drowning in a sea of beige. What has happened that she is suddenly, desperately pouring out content on every platform… did Kelton tell her she needed to make some money to pay for her Sephora habit OR is a product launch in the works? Our Fundie Kim K.is pushing links while living life through a gauzy filter featuring tinkly music.
   
4. Katie had to let Travis go on this fake tour, but not before she let all the groupies know that was her mans. Trav said he was only singing 3 or 4 songs at each show so tell me again why they moved from Jersey for THIS? Speaking of Jersey, the vlog featured just a blip of the Clark family and it looks like GiGi has been drowning her sorrows by remodeling at her house. Katie got them back to the hive as quickly as possible and spent her week with Carlin and co at the playground and pool.
   
5. Lydia is bored bc she is married to Trace. All of her photography skills are now used to take pics of sneakers, weights, water bottles and pickleball. This crew has been featuring Lydia’s family pretty heavily lately, including spending Mothers Day with them where they made small talk with Trace and pretended to like him. Trace spilled the beans that his parents gave away all the pets at the big house while simultaneously telling us that Lawson doesn’t take care of Duke bc he gets dropped off there at least once a month. Later they debuted 40 minutes of Trace painting Lydia’s face like it was a fence while mouth breathing. Lydia’s mom called to show her the pet emu eating cherries and that was the best darn thing they have shown us in months. More emu please-less Trace!
   
6. Michael and Brandon brought in the professionals this week and exploited Layla and Zade Stewart. Layla is as good as any second year stage student at this point… BUT Aunt Michael has rules so she had to slow her role. Brandon was excited to draw Layla a princess after 3 weeks of sharks and whales… honestly everything he draws sort of looks the same. They also went to Honea Path to see Poppa Bill and Momma Jane who was smiling that it wasn’t one of the grands with 18 kids.
   
7. Down in passive-aggressive land Alyssa Webster told the tale of how all FOUR of her girls were asked to be flower girls and how that had NEVER happened and how SPECIAL that was. After several posts exclaiming her undying devotion and love to “buddy” she showed off the bad 80’s prom dress she was given by that dress shop she promotes. If a flame came anywhere near her it would have been all she wrote for Mrs. Webster. That dress was awful… but not as bad as the one she was gifted from BSB(which she called “my sister’s boutique”). The vlog shows John being an absolute jerk while Alyssa sneers and snarls and tries very hard not to say that her Mother’s Day sucked. It did suck and in order to make it up to her, daddy Webster put on a button down shirt and took her to the Cheesecake Factory. After all of the slap happy crappy birthday parties and Christmases she has given her girls… she expected WHAT for Mother’s Day??
   
8. Lawson made an absolute fool of himself while revealing the worst kept secret ever… it’s a boy, yall. Michael and Brandon punished themselves by throwing the party and doing all of the work while Tiffy and Lawson preened for the camera and asked people over and over what their guess was. This was filmed on I Love You Day weekend at the IBLP leaders church so this is old, old footage aaand these people are all perfectly fine with what their dad does. Tiffy and Law made it a point to say there was a bigger crowd than was at their wedding. Tiffy cried after finding out she is carrying a little Lawson and Duke was nowhere to be found. I do think he congratulated them on IG though, so all is good.
   
9. Oh Erin… what a week you had. You got Momma and Daddy Bates all to yourself for Mothers Day and for Carson/Charles’ birthday. Gil and KJ also picked up a nice paycheck for speaking and preaching at the Paine’s new church. Even though Erin happily joined a church that prides itself on promoting the corporal punishment of children, she still put together a glowing reel for Carson/Charles’ special day that featured him down at it at his second job of brothermomming. Not one picture of herself with the child was included. Later Erin threw a free notebook in with her construction paper cards as an incentive to buy. Free paper for buying paper is super exciting, right?
   
10. Bits and Bytes… Jadon and Layla are the same height. The Utah photographer that Alyssa used is followed by ALL of the Bates. Everyone of these Trad Wives are now promoting Easy plants. Why can’t Zach have any closeups in his cooking videos? Jeb/Jud broke his arm.
    

Have a great week friends and… how many Baptists it takes to change a lightbulb…. CHANGE?!? Who mentioned CHANGE!?🫠😜

I'm on my bed, scrolling through Instagram, when the notification pops up. It's Jake, my ex, with a message that drags me back to a hot summer night a few months ago. The night that was, well, different. Jake and I had been dating for almost a year. He was tall, dark, and impossibly handsome, with this magnetic confidence that pulled me in from the moment we met. That night, we were chilling at his place, a bit tipsy from the wine, and the vibe was just right. We were laughing about some silly meme, and then, out of nowhere, he leans in and whispers in my ear, "I've been thinking about trying something new tonight." I felt a rush of excitement mixed with a hint of nervousness. We'd talked about anal before, in that flirty, teasing way, but never actually done it. He saw the curiosity in my eyes and kissed me, slow and deep, his hands wandering over my body, igniting every inch of my skin. His lips found my neck, my shoulder, and then lower, making me shiver with anticipation. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice husky, his eyes locked onto mine. I nodded, biting my lip, feeling a thrill run through me. This was Jake, the guy I trusted more than anyone, the guy who knew how to push all the right buttons. He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the lube and a condom. My heart was racing, a mix of adrenaline and arousal. I turned onto my stomach, feeling vulnerable but also incredibly turned on. Jake's hands were magic, massaging my back, easing the tension, making me melt into the mattress. His fingers, slick with lube, gently teased my entrance, and I gasped, the sensation foreign but oddly thrilling. He took his time, circling, pressing, easing me open, whispering sweet nothings that made me feel so safe and wanted. "Relax, babe, you're doing great," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. When he finally entered me, slowly, carefully, I felt a mix of sensations—fullness, pressure, a slight sting that quickly faded into pleasure as he moved. His hands gripped my hips, his pace gentle yet firm, each thrust sending waves of heat through my body. I moaned, the sound surprising me with its intensity, but I couldn't help it. It felt so incredibly good, different from anything I'd ever experienced. Jake was amazing, attentive, making sure I was comfortable, making sure I was enjoying every second. His rhythm picked up, and I felt myself slipping into a blissful haze, my body responding to his every move. My breath hitched, my back arched, and I lost myself in the moment, in the way he filled me, in the way we moved together. When we finally climaxed, it was like fireworks, an explosion of pleasure that left me trembling and breathless. He collapsed beside me, pulling me close, kissing me tenderly. We lay there, wrapped up in each other, basking in the afterglow, our bodies slick with sweat, our hearts beating in sync. I never expected to love it so much, to feel so connected, so alive. Even now, thinking about it, my skin tingles with the memory. It was one of those nights you don't forget, a night that changed everything. We broke up a few weeks later, but that night stayed with me. It was wild, intense, and oh so sexy. And as I lie here, smiling at Jake's message, I can't help but feel a little thrill, remembering how he made me feel, how we made each other feel. It was just one of those unforgettable experiences, a memory I'll always cherish.

1. Carlin had a big week of giggles and guffaws for the camera. She took an influencer trip to Skyland Ranch, used a Billie Eilish song on an IG reel of her children and then gaslit her audience into believing she and Evan have well known catchphrases “CrAAzy”, “Love, Bye” and “bruh”. They slapped these random words on hats and TShirts and people STOOD IN THE RAIN to buy them. I saw a grown azz man in a “BRUH” hat. Other wild things that happened at their Cash and Carry sale included someone taking pics of their kids in front of the Tesla, referring to the dresses as “she” and calling their vlog “vloggy”.I have cringed too much over all of it. Layla put on a full show for the camera at a nail salon AND the dance studio while Zade earned his keep wearing pretend high heel shoes. They wrapped it all up in a big terrible bow by featuring Hobby Lobby.
   
2. Whitney played second fiddle all week to Carlin… folding shirts, holding babies and modeling Temu dresses that they marked up 347%. Zach was back in the Bates Kitchen this week and decided the best way to get views was to bring in the kids so we got to watch Kacie mix and mess and poke around in cake mix and canned frosting to concoct cake pops. Then the grossest thing happened… ZACH BATES FARTED. During a COOKING SHOW. IN THE KITCHEN. I mean he ripped a big ole juicy poot and they all laughed and decided to air it and then they SOLD those dang FART POPS at the Cash and Carry sale. He also made some terrible Psychology jokes. I bet soon enough they will have “fart pops” on a hat for sale.
   
3. The Balka crowd were living it up this week in a 600$ a night beachfront condo that included a beach chair service. This family trip was really just a content mill and man did Josie churn it out. She is full on exploiting her children while drowning in a sea of beige. What has happened that she is suddenly, desperately pouring out content on every platform… did Kelton tell her she needed to make some money to pay for her Sephora habit OR is a product launch in the works? Our Fundie Kim K.is pushing links while living life through a gauzy filter featuring tinkly music.
   
4. Katie had to let Travis go on this fake tour, but not before she let all the groupies know that was her mans. Trav said he was only singing 3 or 4 songs at each show so tell me again why they moved from Jersey for THIS? Speaking of Jersey, the vlog featured just a blip of the Clark family and it looks like GiGi has been drowning her sorrows by remodeling at her house. Katie got them back to the hive as quickly as possible and spent her week with Carlin and co at the playground and pool.
   
5. Lydia is bored bc she is married to Trace. All of her photography skills are now used to take pics of sneakers, weights, water bottles and pickleball. This crew has been featuring Lydia’s family pretty heavily lately, including spending Mothers Day with them where they made small talk with Trace and pretended to like him. Trace spilled the beans that his parents gave away all the pets at the big house while simultaneously telling us that Lawson doesn’t take care of Duke bc he gets dropped off there at least once a month. Later they debuted 40 minutes of Trace painting Lydia’s face like it was a fence while mouth breathing. Lydia’s mom called to show her the pet emu eating cherries and that was the best darn thing they have shown us in months. More emu please-less Trace!
   
6. Michael and Brandon brought in the professionals this week and exploited Layla and Zade Stewart. Layla is as good as any second year stage student at this point… BUT Aunt Michael has rules so she had to slow her role. Brandon was excited to draw Layla a princess after 3 weeks of sharks and whales… honestly everything he draws sort of looks the same. They also went to Honea Path to see Poppa Bill and Momma Jane who was smiling that it wasn’t one of the grands with 18 kids.
   
7. Down in passive-aggressive land Alyssa Webster told the tale of how all FOUR of her girls were asked to be flower girls and how that had NEVER happened and how SPECIAL that was. After several posts exclaiming her undying devotion and love to “buddy” she showed off the bad 80’s prom dress she was given by that dress shop she promotes. If a flame came anywhere near her it would have been all she wrote for Mrs. Webster. That dress was awful… but not as bad as the one she was gifted from BSB(which she called “my sister’s boutique”). The vlog shows John being an absolute jerk while Alyssa sneers and snarls and tries very hard not to say that her Mother’s Day sucked. It did suck and in order to make it up to her, daddy Webster put on a button down shirt and took her to the Cheesecake Factory. After all of the slap happy crappy birthday parties and Christmases she has given her girls… she expected WHAT for Mother’s Day??
   
8. Lawson made an absolute fool of himself while revealing the worst kept secret ever… it’s a boy, yall. Michael and Brandon punished themselves by throwing the party and doing all of the work while Tiffy and Lawson preened for the camera and asked people over and over what their guess was. This was filmed on I Love You Day weekend at the IBLP leaders church so this is old, old footage aaand these people are all perfectly fine with what their dad does. Tiffy and Law made it a point to say there was a bigger crowd than was at their wedding. Tiffy cried after finding out she is carrying a little Lawson and Duke was nowhere to be found. I do think he congratulated them on IG though, so all is good.
   
9. Oh Erin… what a week you had. You got Momma and Daddy Bates all to yourself for Mothers Day and for Carson/Charles’ birthday. Gil and KJ also picked up a nice paycheck for speaking and preaching at the Paine’s new church. Even though Erin happily joined a church that prides itself on promoting the corporal punishment of children, she still put together a glowing reel for Carson/Charles’ special day that featured him down at it at his second job of brothermomming. Not one picture of herself with the child was included. Later Erin threw a free notebook in with her construction paper cards as an incentive to buy. Free paper for buying paper is super exciting, right?
   
10. Bits and Bytes… Jadon and Layla are the same height. The Utah photographer that Alyssa used is followed by ALL of the Bates. Everyone of these Trad Wives are now promoting Easy plants. Why can’t Zach have any closeups in his cooking videos? Jeb/Jud broke his arm.
    

Have a great week friends and… how many Baptists it takes to change a lightbulb…. CHANGE?!? Who mentioned CHANGE!?🫠😜

Cat, She's around 10 give or take 2 years, spayed, (very)longhair munchkin mix, 10-12lb(will weigh her shortly and update)
not really sure on the age because I rescued her from a blackberry bush behind the house I lived at at the time. When I caught her she was absolutely horribly infested with fleas and seriously underweight, probably wouldnt have made it much longer. I was able to get that all cleared up on my own with some flea meds and good food. (would have taken her in but had $0 because I was legally unable to work at the time). I was going to say she's been extremely skittish and fearful since I got her but that's not exactly the case. She typically lives 100% of the time in the bedroom and when I'm in here she will paw at me and bunt me constantly for attention. Unfortunately my other cat was raised alone for a long time and bullied her for quite a while. I got my dog around the same time as bully cat and he just passed away a couple of months ago, since then they have slowly started getting better with each other. They do still have spats when one of them goes to the tub to get water (I leave it running slightly because they love it and dont drink enough otherwise) and the other is already there.
So in the days before dog had to be put to sleep, I layed him down in the grass outside to enjoy the sun. I'm pretty sure that's where the fleas I've been fighting came from. I gave both cats liquid flea medicine between their shoulder blades almost a week ago now and the other one is fine, but the longhair is seriously scaring me. First, a day or two after giving the medicine, I come home and there are 7-8 piles of vomit with food on the bed. She seemed to be her usual self at the time but I saw her vomit twice more about 30min-1hr apart after that. No more vomiting since then. I am not sure but I think she probably also peed on the bed, something she's done in the past as a result of the other cat attacking her in the litter box. I waited until the next day to wash the mattress protector, sheets, blankets pillows etc thinking shed probably throw up/pee more. It's a king bed so she had plenty of un-vomited space to be in. I was a bit worried and checked the back of her neck where I applied the medication. Absolutely no trace of the crusty spot I'm used to seeing after applying this stuff. She was fighting me the whole time I was trying to apply it and as I said VERY long hair so I think I applied it too low and she was able to lick it off. (Only vomiting, no foaming at the mouth or drooling)
The next day I went to wash everything and didnt want her peeing or throwing up on the bare mattress so I put her in a cat carrier on the bedroom floor with a shirt over the front, towel on bottom, and some food and water. She was in there a total of 3 hours, unlikely absolute maximum of 4. She has zero carrier experience so was having a pretty sad time in there. When I put her in she was acting normal. I put the mattress protector, blankets and pillows back and let her out. Water dish had been knocked over into the food, and had definitely been like that for a while. She ran and hid under the bed or something when I let her out which I thought nothing of.
Next day, as far as I could tell, she spent the entire day laying in the doorway to the bedroom. This was odd but I was gone most of the day and couldn't really tell if she was literally not moving or had been back and forth from the bed. I found it unusual that she let me step over her without freaking out like she usually does.
Next day she is laying in the bathroom next to the toilet. I didn't worry too much at first but noticed she's not running away like she usually does when I walk in on her in the bathroom, or trying to get attention. Or really doing anything. Just laying there with her head on her paws. I figure she's just tired and being weird from the carrier. Worry is definitely growing at this point though.
Next day I realize it's been at least 24-36 hours since I've seen her in the bedroom, she's been laying on the bathroom floor the entire time. I'm out of the house for 14+ hours every day lately and I am not sure what she does when I'm not there though. She's acting very lethargic, haven't seen her eat or drink but I believe she has albeit a bit less than normal, isn't pushing into my hand when I pet her or seeking attention, opening her eyes 60-80% of normal, haven't heard her meow one time since the crate and she's usually talkative. What really freaked me out was as she was laying on the bathroom floor, bully cat walked right past her and didn't even look at her as she went to the tub. THAT made me start thinking emergency vet as this is Saturday around 4-5. I would have taken her already but I'm in a major financial bind and have no way to be sure I'd even have enough money to pay the vet when all is said and done. Even the minimum that they charge would be coming out of June rent. I'll absolutely take her if it is necessary but I don't want us all to lose our house if it's not.
Today I come home and bully cat is laying on the floor a foot from her in the bathroom. They have begrudgingly laid next to each other on the bed before because they both wanted to be with me, but never alone. I'm kind of freaking out now and am very unsure what to do because she really isn't having any symptoms other than the vomiting which has passed days ago and the lethargy. I've poked and prodded all over her and she's not hurt anywhere. Feels like it's possible she lost a pound but throwing up 10 times will do that to a cat I'm sure. Should mention almost all of the vomit had food in it. The food isnt suspect but I changed it and washed the bowl just in case. I've lifted her up and made her walk to see how she does and she can definitely was but doesn't seem to want to. I brought her back to the bed and set her down and she laid down where I put her. After sitting with her for 15ish minutes she did get up and relocate. Doesn't feel hot but I'm not exactly sure how to take a cats temp. The flea medication was a knockoff of advantage 2 called advecta with the same amounts of the same active ingredients. I've looked into symptoms of ingestion and what to do and everything I'm seeing lines up with the vomiting but not her current behavior. Every source I've checked has also said even if the cat does drink an entire tube of it, they'll likely be totally fine. So I've been trying not to worry but she just seems like she's either suddenly horrifically depressed/traumatized by the carrier, or something else is going on. If she had any other symptoms I would have already taken her in. It's currently Sunday and if she hasn't improved I'm going to take her in on Monday unless advised to watch her longer by someone qualified. As I said, vet bill will likely be at least half of and probably all of next months rent, if I can even pay it. I'm about to go to the store and get some wet food and maybe chicken to see if she will eat it. Thank you all for reading this book of a post and thank you for any advice you may have.

[Part 1]
Day 3
I woke the next morning from the sunshine in my eyes. My head was resting ever so slightly on Eli's arm as we had both fallen asleep on my bed after I begged him to stay. I blanched in horror at the drool stain I had left on the arm of his white t-shirt.
I began to slowly move myself and retreat downstairs as the memories of the night before came flooding back. How I had broken, screaming in terror, and how Eli had saved me, not knowing the true reason he found me curled up on the floor crying.
As I stepped off the bed, my leg got snagged in the frilly bed cover, and I went crashing to the ground, making quite the noise as I landed. With a yawn, Eli's eyes opened, and I felt myself blushing as he turned to look at me.
We both kind of stared at each other for a moment, not speaking. Eli opened his mouth, then closed it again as if unsure of what to say.
"Coffee?" I asked quickly, filling the awkwardness of our situation.
"Please," Eli said, smiling.
In minutes, I had a pot brewing as I leaned against the kitchen counter. Eli was picking up the scattered photographs from the floor and looking at them quizzically.
"Why do you have pictures of the Harmons?" Eli asked, showing me the photos of the yellow-haired man and his family.
"Is that their names? I found them out in the barn under a blanket," I answered as I rooted around the cupboards for two mugs.
"In the barn? I cleaned it out just last week. No way I would have missed this trunk," Eli said while examining the wooden trunk with its simple rustic hinges. It was plain and unadorned with any embellishments. Basic as basic could be.
"Well, you must have missed it because it was there," I said, putting emphasis on the "was" in a way that reminded me of my mother chastising my father.
"That's so weird," he said, shifting through the photos while sitting at the table. I brought him a cup of coffee and sugar, and he began absentmindedly adding a lot of sugar to his coffee. About six scoops later, he began stirring and sipping it.
"Well, anyways, thanks for coming last night. I wasn't myself, I hope you know that I'm not some damsel in distress," I said quickly, like word vomit, and I even chuckled at the end, feeling like a total weirdo.
"What happened anyway? You didn't say last night," he said, putting the photos down in a jumble on the table.
I paused for a moment, considering how to answer. As I sipped my coffee, I stared out into the yard beside the barn where the scarecrow stood, glancing around the edge of the barn, hanging limply in his hole. His appearance once again sad and dejected instead of murderous and terrifying.
"I was just scared, I had a nightmare, and it just scared me," I said dumbly, trying not to turn crimson again under his intense gaze.
His eyes seemed to cut right through my lie, as if he were staring directly into my being before he simply glanced away out the window. We fell silent again, and I filled some moments by sipping my drink. It seemed to revitalize me; the sun and the company made me feel secure.
"Why were you here anyways?" I asked after a moment.
"I heard screaming, so I came running. I live just on the other side of the grass there, behind the barn," Eli said, pointing to the barn out the window.
"Must be really close, I didn't see any houses on the way in," I said, prying deeper into the situation.
"It's actually a trailer, maybe like two hundred yards from here. I was outside getting some air when I heard you scream. So, I came running," Eli said, finishing his cup of coffee and placing it in between us like a barrier, as if he was hiding something.
"Could you, uh, not do that?" Eli asked, with an uncertain grin on his face.
"What am I doing exactly?" I asked, startled for a moment, my stomach doing a sort of flip.
"It's just that you like stare at people. You've been staring at me for like my whole cup of coffee, I don't think you blinked the whole time," Eli said, averting his eyes shyly.
"No, I don't," I said until I realized he was right. I never noticed that about myself.
"Right, well, I've got to go. I am probably going to start painting today, so you might see me in a bit," Eli said, rising and heading to the door.
"Wait," I said, grabbing his arm for only a moment before releasing it like it was scalding hot.
Eli glanced at my hand for a moment, then at his arm, before he, too, blushed crimson.
"I just wanted to say thank you again. For last night, I mean. Well, what I mean is I appreciate it," I said, my eyes downcast in, for some reason, shame. Like he had seen me at my weakest and it weighed on my gaze appropriately.
"It was nothing, besides I didn't get much sleep with your constant snoring," Eli said, laughing at me.
"I so don't snore," I said, swatting at him but unable to control a smile creeping up onto my face.
After Eli left, I felt instantly colder, my eyes kept returning to the scarecrow. I grabbed my camera from upstairs and went out to the yard. I scanned the dirt for anything out of the ordinary. There was no blood, or anything on the dirt where the scarecrow stood just last night. I slowly made my way to the scarecrow, but nothing happened. I snapped a photo of the inanimate object, and it didn't even flinch. I poked it, but all I felt was straw underneath its clothes. I removed its mask, expecting a severed head, but it was just straw. Nothing was here but straw. I dropped the mask on the ground and took another photo proving it was just straw and nothing else.
An idea struck me as I regarded the source of my torment. If I planned to stay even one more night here, I needed to do something about this scarecrow. I rooted around in the barn, a series of tools hung from nails in the wall. On one hung what I was searching for. An old rusted shovel with a dirty wooden handle that was worn smooth from use.
I returned to the side of the barn beside the scarecrow, knowing for whatever reason this thing only came when night fell and didn't react at all when I moved or touched it during the day.
Before my morning coffee had even settled, I began to dig at the dusty earth, loose and easy to dig, it came away in shovelfuls. Within an hour, I had a fair-sized hole in front of me. Sweat dripped from my brow, and when I wiped under my eyes, they came away black from last night's makeup. Glancing at the field of grass and knowing Eli could appear at any time, I decided to head inside and shower. The hot water was a godsend, and I lingered for longer, letting the water drain down my head and back, my eyes closed, trying to forget the images from the last two nights. I should just pack up my car and leave right this minute. But how could I explain this to my family? I decided to go through with my plan and bury the scarecrow. I could last one more night if I prepared for it.
I left the shower and dressed modestly, in another one of my old rock t-shirts and a pair of shorts. I returned to the yard and with a satisfying push, I dropped the scarecrow into the pit. It fell with a nice thud, and I smiled at my power over it in the day; it's just at night when I should fear it.
As I threw the first shovel of dirt back on top, I heard a noise in the grass, and it parted, revealing Eli wearing the same pair of jeans and work boots, but he had changed his shirt to a plain black one. In each hand, he held cans of paint and a brush.
"Should I even ask why you are burying that old scarecrow?" He asked as he came to stand beside me.
"Probably best if you didn't," I admitted, leaning on the shovel.
"Well, I'm going to anyway. Polly, why are you burying that old scarecrow?" He asked, a rare smile coming to his face.
"Because it's been haunting me at night," I said bluntly.
"Mhm, yeah, okay. Fine, don't tell me. I've been meaning to get rid of it anyway, but normal people take things to the landfill," Eli said with a smirk as he turned to the house and began setting up for his painting.
I finished burying the scarecrow and stomped the dirt down flat. I finished my job by moving my car and parking it directly over top of the spot where I buried it.
Eli watched me curiously but didn't remark. I returned the shovel to the barn and went out into the yard. I decided to go for a hike around the property. I needed some time alone to think and unwind.
As I made my way through the grass, it began to confuse me. This had obviously been a large farmland, but how had the wild plants grown in such a thick, endless maze of greenery?
It gave me an eerie feeling, like I was being watched as the grass covered three-quarters of my body, like there would be something lurking out in the grass, crouched low, waiting for me.
After a half-hour or so, I came upon a clear lake, only big enough to be considered an old swimming hole, I thought as I dipped my hand into the cool water.
I took off my outer clothes and decided to go for a swim. I lowered myself in slowly and reveled at the cool water. The pond wasn't deep, but the water was clean. A small rope swing had been hung from a large oak tree that bordered the pond. It also provided a nice layer of shade that made it the ideal spot to spend the day. I floated on my back in the water for what seemed like hours. The day seemed to slip away from me. A small beach of sand sat at one side of the pond, so I lay out in the sun and closed my eyes. The warm day warmed my soul, and soon I felt myself drifting off into sleep.
I awoke to the sound of crickets and darkness. I couldn't believe it. I had slept through the day; the long nights had finally caught up to me, and now I was stuck far away from the farmhouse. I didn't know if my plan with the scarecrow had worked, and this wasn't the place to test my theory.
A full moon lay overhead, casting a silvery glow on the world before me. A sea of grass swayed gently in the wind, sending shivers down it in shuddering waves. I looked around, but I was thankfully alone, just the crickets chirping along melodically as my only companions.
I had to make it back to the house, so I started on my way, my hands trailing along the tall grass. The pale light played easily on the deep green grass. Step by step, I made my way back towards the farmhouse and the barn, throwing caution to the wind, and I started to jog along, anything to get back faster. I would have to find Eli; maybe if we were together, he could stop it like before.
If I thought the field was creepy during the day, by night, it was a whole new world. Every sound made my heart stop for a beat before restarting in protest. When all of a sudden, the crickets stopped chirping. I dropped to my knees, letting the long grass cover me from sight. Through the strands, I could make out a shape moving slowly through the tall grass, the swish of the plants as it made its passage through them. My heart dropped. Was this Eli looking for me, or was it the scarecrow come for me?
That's when I heard a voice, a voice cutting through the silence. It started off quiet and raspy as it sang an eerie children's song.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me? Run and hide, don't you know that I seek The world it claims that I be not clean When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep. In this world, at night I shall be free. Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
I was frozen to the spot. It hadn't found me, but it knew I was in the grass somewhere. Now, with each word, chewed up and spat out like it was unhappy with it, now it was accompanied by the whistle of something in the air and a slicing sound as it cut through the grass around me.
It finished another round of its song, but now it stood within feet of me, its blade whistling as it cut. I took a moment to ready myself, and as it raised its blade to cut through the grass I hid in, I dashed out of my hiding spot and slammed into it. But nothing resisted me; I fell through it like it was a ghost.
In a tangle of limbs, I landed hard on the ground and tried quickly rolling to my feet. The blade of its weapon pierced the earth beside me. Now I could see it was a two-handed scythe the scarecrow carried, but something was off, its hands were human. Pale milky skin like a newborn baby. I had little time to examine the creature except for the canvas bag over its head. Two large black eyes came out of the slits that leaked a dark red blood like tears.
It screeched loudly and swung its scythe, but it was slow, and I took off through the grass in the direction of what I hoped was the farmhouse.
I completely gave up all pretense of hiding and sprinted as fast as I could without looking back. The grass seemed to part for me as I ran in terror. I was just glad that in high school, I had taken track as it was paying off now.
I could hear the noise of footsteps behind me, but I never turned. I ran and ran until my lungs felt like they were going to burst Something silver flashed to my left, and I tripped over something hard and unexpected. The wind was driven from my lungs as my chin slammed hard into the earth. I scrambled back, trying to escape, but the scarecrow was on me, its blade flashing angrily in the pale moonlight.
I wanted to move, I wanted to fight, but my body was weak and unable to catch its breath, and I lay there helpless as it swung its scythe towards me. I closed my eyes in fear, but I only heard the thud of dirt before I opened my eyes. The scythe was discarded, and the scarecrow stood staring at me.
It seemed to be struggling with something, one hand reached out towards me only to be snapped back to its side. A roar of rage pierced the canvas sack over its head as it struggled against its invisible bonds. For a moment, I thought I saw something behind it, three sets of hands holding it back. One feminine in nature, and the other two must have belonged to children. In a flash, I saw a beautiful woman who looked vaguely familiar with her long brown hair and plain dress.
"Run," she moaned as the scarecrow swung around wildly.
I didn't hesitate and fled, my breath had returned, and while my body still ached from my fall, I powered on, knowing this was the only respite I would receive tonight.
In the distance, I could see a small sheet metal shape; Eli's trailer was slowly coming closer as I ran, and I beelined it for the trailer. I could hear the footsteps behind me again as the scarecrow resumed its chase after me.
I reached the old trailer and banged on the door as loud as I could; I rattled the handle, but it was locked.
"Eli, it's me. It's Polly, please let me in. Please," I begged as I banged over and over again on the door of his trailer.
Nothing responded to me, and the trailer was dark. The single window in the back held no life inside the trailer. From the trailer, I couldn't tell which direction the farmhouse was in the dark, so I fled into the tall grass and crouched low, watching the clearing around the trailer.
While I caught my breath, I watched the scarecrow enter the clearing, its scythe back in its hand as it circled the trailer. When its raspy voice began singing again low and quiet, only loud enough for me to hear.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me? Run and hide, don't you know that I seek The world it claims that I be not clean When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep. In this world, at night, I shall be free. Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The song made me shiver uncontrollably at the lyrics and the voice; it sounded demented like a crazy person letting their demons out into a nursery rhyme.
I lay perfectly still; for some reason, it couldn't find me. This creature I assumed was all-knowing seemed to have some very human weaknesses. It moved and talked like a human, even had certain body parts that were from a human; it even felt human the way it chased and reacted.
The scarecrow moved on through the tall grass, and I let out a sigh of relief as it lost my trail. How terrifying that beast was. In my pocket was the keys to my car. Eli had told me that the farmhouse was fairly close to his trailer. I had to navigate to the car, then drive as fast as I can away from this place. The fact that I hadn't left already because I was worried about money was insane. Who cares, I could drive to Barb's and demand my money back. Go home and just tell my parents the truth. The whole reason for actually leaving home this summer, why I was actually here in this field shivering uncontrollably in fear. But I couldn't think about that now, not now, there will be time to deal with that later. Now I needed to focus on staying alive, getting to the car, and getting out of here.
I went in the direction the scarecrow had; he knew the land better than I did, and every noise I made in the silence of the night made my heart drop. It took all my courage there and then to take one step forward, then another. I felt like I was going to be sick; my stomach was in knots to where it felt like even if I was sick, the only thing to come out would be only bile and stomach acid.
With each careful step, I made my way closer to the farmhouse and the scarecrow. Through the darkness, I could see my goal, the farmhouse, and the barn. Within minutes, I had made it securely to the farmhouse yard.
My car still sat in the same spot overtop of the hole where I buried the scarecrow. In the moonlight, I could see that the dirt had not been disturbed.
The scarecrow was nowhere to be seen, and I cautiously made my way to my car, my keys in my hand as I approached the driver's door. I hadn't locked the car, and it opened on the first try. I turned on my car as quietly as I could, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
Something landed heavily on top of the roof of my car, making it dent inwards slightly. With horror, I saw the scarecrow swing its scythe into the back window of my car. With a crash, the glass shattered inwards; I put my car into gear and roared away down the lane. In my rearview mirror, I couldn't see anything, so I swerved back and forth, trying to shake the creature from the roof of my car when the scythe crashed in through the front window, making a hole just large enough for it.
The glass spidered, and I couldn't see out the window very well. I swerved down the road, but the scythe remained in the car, allowing the creature purchase. In a panic, I spun my wheel wildly, trying to dislodge it, but I lost control, and soon felt something crash into the front of my car. The airbag went off in my face, and I hadn't been wearing my seatbelt. I slammed hard into something else, and my vision went dark. I was in a daze; I must have passed out because I don't remember a lot of what happened next. I felt the car door open with a crunching tear, and it landed loudly as it was torn off. My body being grabbed and tossed on the ground. I felt no pain, just a gentle numbness. I felt blood on my head as I raised my arm to touch my face.
Then just blackness, complete, and empty just feelings, fear, unease, sadness. My eyes opened, and the scarecrow was overtop of me. Pain on my chest and my vision went dark again. Coughing as something poured down my throat. I couldn't breathe, why couldn't I breathe?
My eyes opened one last time, and I saw the scarecrow pouring a dark liquid from its mouth directly into my mouth and eyes. My vision was red and bloody before I closed them one last time.
The words of its song echoed into the emptiness of my thoughts.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me? Run and hide, don't you know that I seek? The world it claims that I be not clean. When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see, Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep. In this world, at night, I shall be free. Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see, When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The darkness enveloped me, and I felt myself slipping away, the sounds of the night fading into oblivion.

My name is Dr. Smith, not my real name of course, but for purposes of storytelling it will have to suffice. I have been practicing medicine at an Asian country as a general practitioner. I'm relatively new and I practice at a small village, not too far from civilization, half a day's travel by car and a few hours by boat from the country's capital, but very rural nonetheless, complete with superstitious beliefs and customs. I decided to stay here when I first graduated and passed the licensure exam for two reasons: first, I have a place to stay here, my family's ancestral home (although none of my direct relatives have lived there for years), said ancestors being one of the first people to settle in the area and second, because my family had always been the physicians in this small community as far as anyone remembers. Me, my grandfather and his father before him all went to the city to study medicine and went back here to practice it, like there was a pull, a calling, to sacrifice the convenient, fast-paced city life for the quiet and serene. My mother hated the idea, as clingy as she is to me, saying things like she wanted me to always be around where she could protect me, but you can't really help it when purpose calls. To be honest, it feels good providing a wide range of services to the honest people of our small, humble town, no greater feeling than helping the less privelaged, educating them and dispelling preconceived notions and old wives tales which are aplenty in my country, especially here.
I still recall how everything began. I made a makeshift clinic at one of the rooms of my ancestral home, it used to be my grandfather's office, but it felt old, antique, and perhaps too... professional, nothing wrong with that, but I wanted my patients to feel a more homely setting. So, I rearranged a bit, removed the imposing self portrait of my great-grandfather wearing his white coat that hang on the wall and transferred it to a more private area of the house. I changed the dim, barely functioning lights into brighter, more modern ones, removed the exceedingly extravagant chandelier and equipped the room with materials and equipment that I deemed necessary for my practice. I retained the wooden floors, but outfitted the walls with charts and more colorful decorations, in anticipation for the occasional pediatric patient. It was beginning to look less like an old abandoned house where teenagers went for the spooks and more like a place of healing and betterment, a clean place offering a clean mind...or so I hope.
"Your grandfather would have a heart attack if he wasn't dead already, seeing what you've done with his old clinic" quipped Martha, our housekeeper. All I know about Martha is that my grandfather hired her as a young teen and she has been here since then, she babysat and raised my mother as her own, and even took care of me as a toddler. Considering her age, she mostly supervises the younger and more capable help rather than doing tasks herself. None of them stay at the house, but they get called upon when me or any of my relatives were expected. Most of the family consider her as one of our own at this point.
"Well i'm sure great grandpa on the other hand enjoys the change of view" I replied jokingly. "Besides, I bet the patients would appreciate not being treated in such a dark, gloomy room."
"You know how your grandfather was..." she replies, that the idea of a dark, gloomy, old man liking dark, gloomy, old places was a no brainer. "...but everything aside, it is so nice to see you again, have you been feeling better? What did your mother think of you staying here?" she said with what I felt as outmost sincerity, "I used to chase and carry you around this estate and now look at you, about to carry out your family's legacy as a physician yourself" she continued, with a hint of pride from her tone.
I smiled. I myself couldn't think of a reason why a well respected man, revered even, by this town and it's people for everything he has done would act nonchalant and depressed, always with a jaded look in his eyes and stay in an equally dim and depressing part of his house, I've always known him to be like that, but was he always?
"I am better now. It's good to see you too, I'm glad you're staying healthy, and mom sure did not like it but well...she told me to say hi on her behalf" I told Martha. She beams up and smiles on my mother's mention.
"Well...I took the liberty of digging up your grandfather's documents, records and his patient charts, I doubt many of them still live but I thought maybe you'd like to have a look, I placed them around your desk but I can relocate them if you want me to"
"No, that's perfect. That's something I actually intended to do, i'll give it a read, thank you" I replied. I know some of those patients were either old or probably dead to be honest, but seeing data as well as the cases my grandfather had to deal with might help me in the future.
"The villagers already know Dr. Smith's grandson is here, they know you're a doctor, so expect to have a patient one of these days, perhaps as soon as you give the word that your clinic is open" Martha said, as she walks out of the room smiling and slightly waving, signalling a goodbye.
"I'm not even surprised" I think to myself. Places like these, words spreads like wildfire on topics like these, the idea of someone from a known family, coming back from the city, not to mention deciding to stay indefinitely, like the whole village needed notification, like the village demands explanation.
Hours passed and as I was satisfied with my new setup for the clinic, I took a break, sitting down and looking at the mountain of paperwork and folders placed on and around my desk. I picked one, thinking to myself that I might as well have a look now, with nothing else of note to do.
Patient #010438 Name redacted 43/Female
History of present illness: Patient had 3 day history of undocumented fever, dysuria, and bilateral flank pain Did not seek consult, no medications taken
Past Medical History Unremarkable
Personal and Social History Unremarkable
OB history illegible
Physical Examination BP 110/80 HR 102 RR 20
Nonhyperemic tonsils No murmurs Clear breath sounds Nontender abdomen (+) Kidney punch test
Noted a signature of the patient claiming she was not pregnant as a form of waiver
"Jesus grandpa, couldn't your history and physical exam get any lazier?" I thought to myself. Seeing pertinent history not asked and multiple organ systems ignored on physical examination. Given, some of the writing were already faded, the quality of the paper had deteriorated greatly, and plenty of details already illegible, all in all the documents weren't that bad. It sure doesn't help though that he writes like someone in the middle of a warzone practicing heiroglyphs.
I skimmed through more of the documents and patient files, most of the cases are relatively benign, majority are outpatient visits, some are emergency cases and there are the rare ones requiring transfer to a more developed town hours from here with better services and equipment. Time passed and as I lay down the last folder in a pile, I noticed a moderately sized box, probably the size of a briefcase, placed on the floor, dusty but obviously ornate. It piqued my interest although in my mind, I was pretty sure it was nothing but more documents, I decided to give it a look.
I picked a stack up and I started to read:
Patient #00512c Name redacted 32/Female
"Weird" I thought, it was numbered differently, and definitely none of the other documents were lettered. I continued reading:
History of present illness: This is a case of a 32 year old female who came in on date redacted due to a chief complaint of multiple hematomas, abrasions, burn wounds and lacerations on her face, trunk and extremeties..."
"Trauma? An accident? Possible abuse?" I contemplated.
"...patient allegedly noticed easy bruisability 2 weeks prior to consult, followed by alleged spontaneous appearance of abrasions and lacerations 2-3 days from onset of bruising, supposedly waking the patient at night due to the sudden sharp and searing pain, initially small cuts 3-5cm widest on her extremeties and face but eventually progressing to deep cuts measuring approximately 10-50cm on her back, chest, abdomen and lower extremeties. 1 week prior to consult, patient started noticing burning sensations on her skin, causing extreme pain and leaving reddish burn marks on her body, patient also experienced lack of appetite and inability to sleep due to loud voices and..."
"Spontaneous appearance? Easy bruising could be a lot of things, but for it to occur with 'spontaneous' abrasions and lacerations? Not to mention burn marks?" I thought out loud, having doubts about the credibility of the use of the word "spontaneous". Surely it was not an accident, considering it started 2 weeks ago with noted progression. "It could be a hematologic problem with the bruising, but that wouldn't explain the sudden appearance of cuts...maybe accompanied by a dermatologic one, the patient is prone to breaks in the skin? But then again the burn marks...the voices..." I analyzed. I was leaning towards abuse, where the cuts and bruises were inflicted by someone else and the abused, whether in some form of fear or coping, decides that it was "spontaneous" rather than inflicted, but why bother lying to yourself, perhaps the one who did it to her is a partner? Or a loved one? It made sense, someone progressively becoming more aggressive with her as time went by, becoming more and more extreme, from bruises to eventually burning.
It could a combination of illnesses to be honest, one on top of another, perhaps an overly sensitive or extremely dry skin that breaks and peels until it bleeds, an allergic reaction prompting the patient to unconciously scratch till her skin became red and lichenified, voices due to lack of sleep or a mental disorder. But looking at my grandfather's physical examination of her, none of the findings solidifies the possibility of those i've mentioned. Truth be told I also partially allowed myself to tunnel vision on the prospect of an abuse, to the point I've skipped some of the chart's contents that I deemed weren't important and tried to look for information to support my claim, or perhaps to disprove it, rookie mistake, but well, I am a rookie then.
"Patient is widowed, lives alone at a secluded area near redacted, only goes out to buy some necessities from redacted but has very minimal interaction from anyone in the village"
Okay then, either she is hiding the fact someone was with her, who is abusing her like I initially thought of, or it's self harm. "I'm pretty sure grandpa considered everything that went through my mind right now. Let me check his initial impression" I thought, with a tinge of annoyance, considering I felt that the patient lied to my grandfather, and was lying to me, decades after the fact.

1 Trauma, to consider physical abuse versus self harm;

"Alright, now we're getting somewhere" I said to myself, with a bit of pride having the same thought process as a physician with decades more experience than I do.

2 To consider mental disorder, probably psychotic - premature dementia

I chuckled. Premature dementia, didn't think i'd see that term, I thought everyone including those from his time would have used schizophrenia already, then again medicine and medical knowledge isn't as easily passed around as it is now. Psychiatry as a science would be relatively new during his time compared to other disciplines so the fact he considered it based on the patient hearing "voices"? Bravo gramps.
"Well...", I thought to myself, "...plenty of things to consider and rule out, let me check what else is there." A bit of cockiness on picking my grandfather's brain out and feeling good about my train of thought, a practice consult and so far, I'm on my way to a perfect score...

3. To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

.................
I gave the document a stern look, unmoving, unblinking, emotionless. Time has stopped, and I haven't noticed. My brain trying to digest the information, the same way my stomach would probably digest a block of steel...it's just not possible. I read one of my grandfather's diagnosis again:

3 To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

I never been one for faith. Evidence is everything. Science is everything. You can replicate it, you can prove it. Most importantly...It. Makes. Sense. I look at beliefs not based on evidence and feel nothing but skepticism if not disdain. Why won't people listen to expert opinion? Why won't people believe in facts? Why explain the unknown in such convoluted ways, requiring submission of oneself when the only thing the truth requires is but comprehension. I looked at that diagnosis feeling disappointment.
Then I felt anger. "Grandpa, what the fuck is wrong with you?!" I thought to myself. Here is a woman, full of bruises, cuts and burns all over her body, claiming that she has been suffering for weeks, barely eats or sleeps, was having auditory hallucinations, in dire need of medical, if not emotional and psychological support and one of the things that comes across your mind is possession.
I tried to calm my mind, these are records of the past anyway, I thought. Maybe it was a resignation born out of incompetence. Maybe grandpa wasn't as good of a doctor as I thought he was, that the shortcomings of his knowledge and limited technology of his time prompted him to adopt a more...liberal viewpoint to medicine. Maybe he was just superstitious himself. Maybe the people of this place had leaked some of their local beliefs into his psyche. Maybe isolation changed the man. Or maybe...just maybe...there's something to it.
I've never been one for faith. That goes for my faith in science as well. To just say that something is stupid because it doesn't align with standard, accepted scientific belief is just as detrimental as its counterpart.
I decided to investigate further when I heard the entrance to the room open with force. One of the maids leaning onto the wall by the entrance, still grasping the doorknob and evidently out of breath.
"Sir...ma'am Martha...calling...for you...says...it's...it's...an emergency..." She says in between breaths.
I quickly stood up, feeling sorry for the woman, she just ran, obviously gasping for air as she arrived at the clinic and now has to lead me back to wherever she came from with the same urgency. At first I was worried something might have happened with Martha, what the maid said didn't really give much clarity, but upon arriving at the main hall I noticed Martha, standing beside a middle aged man and woman, carrying a child, no more than 10 years old. I notice the clear panic and worry on both of their eyes as the man held the boy, who was uncontrollably shaking.
"I know you're not taking any patients yet and I was considering the time, but nobody knows what to do so I..." Martha explains, quite concerned while I ordered the parents to put the child flat on the ground, with me assessing the situation. The first thing I noticed was that the child was burning hot, "possibly febrile seizure? No, too old" I thought. I asked both the parents important details while I ordered the other maid to time the duration of the child's seizure. All the while thinking of possible diseases that may present as such, "Seizure disorder? Epilepsy? Meningitis? Encephalitis?" Eventually the shaking stopped, much to the parents' relief, and I ordered them to carry the boy as we made our way back to the clinic.
"Was this the first time it ever happened?" I inquired, as I put the child on one of the beds in the clinic, securing the corners with additional pillows, noticing the sunken face and apparent exhaustion from the boy, possibly due to the ongoing fever and the recent seizure episode. Once secured, I face the parents and continued my inquiries, I eventually explained everything, elaborating on what I believe happened, I explained that for now, lowering the fever and investigating the source were what we could address, the battery of tests I plan to do (disappointingly, most of them cannot be done here, and I would have to accompany them to a hospital on another town as soon as first light breaks), and the medications and management I plan to give. Everything proceeded as planned and I asked both parents to relax and take a breather, offering them a seat and asking the help to give them water.
Things eventually settled, little Johnny's fever subsided and color came back to him. Nowhere near clear, he can worsen anytime, but that was the best that we could do at that time. The parents were still worried, understandably so, but to an extent reassured, we have a plan after all. Martha, as well as Diane (the help from earlier), now at a calmer state. We discussed the plan, how we would travel, who would accompany us and what we would bring. Eventually, our conversations became relaxed, started to shift to other things, trivial matters, such as were they lived in the village, the date and time of my arrival, recent gossip, where Martha was more than happy to share.
"I was worried the evil spirits might have gotten my baby..." Said the mother nonchalantly, as we talked about the occurrence on a lighter note. "...that's how they got Mrs. Johnson's middle child. That poor boy was never the same after."
I smiled. Not wanting to immediately correct them and sound like an uptight individual. It's part of our culture afterall, old belief systems and a way for people to cope with loss or difficulty, who was I to deny them that. I won't approach these people the hardheaded way, but I will slowly show them the realities and truths of the things they may not understand, well, at least with regards to their health.
"Well, little Johnny is safe here, we'll do what we can" pointing to their son.
Only, their son wasn't where he was supposed to be. I look at the parents, I look at both Martha and Diane, everyone who looked at where I pointed were just as shocked as I was, a split second of silence before panic ensued. Suddenly, everyone stood up on high alert and was looking everywhere. Under covers, under the bed, corners of the room, the desk, behind curtains, hell, I saw Diane look at one of the damn drawers, as if a 10 year old would fit there.
Suddenly I heard loud vomiting, retching, followed by sounds of splashing. I follow where the sounds came from and see a large pool of black, tarry liquid at a corner of my room. I slowly trace where it was coming from and there he was...little Johnny...standing...upside down...on the ceiling.
I hear everyone in the room scream, I was probably screaming too, I couldn't remember. I do remember little Johnny screaming with us though, extremely high pitched and mockingly, with bloodshot eyes, upside down, while black liquid poured from his mouth, covering his face and dripping from his hair. How was that even possible, screaming while liters of unknown fluid dripped from his mouth? I don't know.
Then he laughed, although I was pretty sure that wasn't his voice. It was deep and guttural, it cannot be the boy's voice, it cannot be any boy's voice.
Time seemed to move in slow motion, I was noticing every detail, every expression from everyone's face, I can feel the seconds hand on my wall clock move, the slow dripping of the viscous dark liquid from little Johnny, I can feel every drop of sweat on my body. I could not cope with what i'm experiencing, was it a trick of the mind, an organized prank, have I gone mad...again? So I did the only thing I know how to do...
I tried to diagnose.
"Maybe it was dengue shock all along!" I thought to myself. "Vomiting blood, paleness, fever, an episode of seizure and definitely change in sensorium" I reasoned to myself. I was coping, and I was coping hard. I was ready to drown on my self absorbtion when a booming voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
"YOU DUMB FUCK, WILL ANY ILLNESS EXPLAIN WHY YOUR FUCKING PATIENT IS HANGING UPSIDE DOWN ON THE FUCKING CEILING?" Said little Johnny, or at least whoever was speaking on his behalf, because from where I'm standing, I can clearly see that the boy was not mouthing any of the words he said.
"YOU'RE A FUCKING FAILURE, DOCTORS LIKE YOU SHOULD KILL THEMSELVES! HAHAHAHA" he laughed, I never knew laughs could sound like that, as if the words were nails, and his voice box a chalkboard.
"OH WAIT, YOU FAILED AT THAT TOO DOC! FUCKING PATHETIC!"
Of all the things that were happening...a young boy hanging upside down, a mother crying on the floor hysterically, a father staring at his son, eyes wide open and mouth agape, Martha and Diane, both crying while sharing a rosary, in the act of what I assume to be prayer...the thing that snapped me out of my trance was the words that came from little Johnny. Knowledge nobody but the closest to me should know. A secret I planned to leave behind when I left the city, a wound I intended to forget as I started anew.
Visions of my memories came flashing back...medical school...overwhelming duty...familial expectations...failure...depression...my attempt...a bottle of medications...my mother...crying...on my bedside...
"LEAVE MY SON ALONE!" Johnny's father screamed. Starling everyone in the room.
Nothing matters, the past is in the past, I am better now, and that boy needs help, more than anything.
"YOUR SON? WHY DON'T WE ASK THAT CRYING WHORE IF JOHNNY REALLY IS YOUR SON" The voice says, laughing.
At that point the mother stops crying, looks up towards johnny, then towards his husband, in a state of shock. Like what the voice said is crazier than whatever was happening at the moment.
"THE ONLY REASON THAT WHORE STUCK WITH YOU WAS BECAUSE JOHNNY'S REAAAAAAAL FATHER WOULD NOT TAKE HER!" The entity says, continuing the hysteric laughter.
We were being played. It was toying with us. And from the look on the mother's face...it seems like little Johnny did not even need to lie to do it.
Then, to everyone's horror..."It" started to run.
It ran across the ceiling in a rabid frenzy, erratic and forceful, running and jumping, hopping sideways then going on all fours, still attached to the ceiling, splashing bile and blood all over the room, all the while making a "hihihi" sound...childish and terrifying. It ran and ran, repeating the same erratic change in movements, repeating the same eerie giggle until it reached the window, stopping and standing straight, it stared outside for what felt like forever...then all of a sudden...johnny just fell, like whatever was attaching him to the ceiling just gave, headfirst into the floor, giving a very audible cracking sound.
I heard a gasp from johnny's mother. I can at least detect some miniscule chest expansion, but that cracking sound cannot be anything good. As if thinking the same thing, Martha, who was the nearest to where Johnny fell, while still clinging tightly to Diane's rosary, approached the boy.
"Johnny?" She said softly, all the while approaching an inch at a time.
As she was almost at arms length of the boy's body, she gives the mother a knowing look, confirming that he was breathing. Martha suddenly produces a piece of cloth from one of the pockets of her uniform, possibly to pack the bleeding from the head. She intended to put the cloth on top of the boy's head, but looked towards my direction, urging me forward, perhaps for me to place it properly. I walk towards the boy, takes the cloth from Martha and as I fold the cloth to circle Johnny's cranium with Martha's help, the boy immediately sat up, looks at Martha and smiles ear to ear...literally ear to ear.
"GET YOUR WRINKLY HANDS OFF ME YOU DUSTY OLD FUCK!" He barks at her, Martha screams in fear and I was taken aback.
That was all the time Johnny needed to stand and jump towards the window, breaking it and running towards the mountainside. I hear his father scream his name, quickly breaking more glass so he could fit, and immediately giving chase. The mother was still on the floor, wailing towards the direction of her child and husband. Martha, in shock, still holding the cloth she intended to wrap johnny with.
It took me a while to notice Diane shaking me vigorously. "Doctor!" She screams. "Doctor Smith! What should we do!?" She voices out, with obvious desperation.
I ignored her.
I feel scared, but taking all into consideration, I predominantly feel tired. Defeated. Insulted.
I have nothing more to give in the face of whatever that thing that took Johnny was.
I slowly walk towards my desk, I open my drawer, I take a piece of paper and I pull out my pen.
Patient #00001a Name redacted 10/M
I write, giving no thoughts to the people on the same room as me, those left behind by little Johnny and his father. "Did he catch up to him? Was the boy alright now?...is his father alright?" I wonder. I'll find out soon enough, I figured, rumors spread like wildfire around here anyways.
I continued to write with resignment, absorbed in my own little world, consumed by the horror I witnessed, the breaking of my spirit, of my beliefs, the questioning of my knowledge. I want to escape it, deny it, but that's not what should be done to the truth. So I surrendered.

1 To consider possession probably secondary to malevolent spirit

END

I feel like crap all the time because of my diet, I get a chronic nausea that makes me feel like puking and lately I’ve been getting some concerning heart pains. I wish I could eat like a normal person, I do try to eat other foods but sometimes it feels hopeless because I know myself and I know I’ll just fall back into living off garbage like popcorn and French fries.

I'm currently under medicated and not sure if my PCP is even able to write me more medication than he is at the time. 2(7.5s a day and a break them in half just to tolerate the day)
I have several her new desk in my back and possible permanent nerve damage in my neck. My current pain management doctor said while he does not have a personal issue with me using THC products and completely understand he is afraid of getting in trouble if he takes over my prescriptions. He's actually doing as much as he can for me and giving me other things to help but I just want to know if there's anyone out there who could shoot me a personal message and see if we're anywhere close to each other.
To be clear I'm not wanting to meet up and get anything from anyone I am trying to get in with a doctor permanently as I will have these issues for the rest of my life.
Any wisdom or help getting pointed in the right direction would be greatly appreciated:).
I'm not even trying to find some kind of crazy pillow or anything I would just like to be prescribed at least three pills a day I don't think that's asking for too much.

if you happen to come across this, i sincerely apologize from the depths of my heart. i cant express enough the immense despair ive been experiencing the past days for what i did to you and caused you
i dont know why i did what i did, but i guess when i realized it was you after i first messaged you on this account, i saw you were struggling through some things. and i really have always cared about you so i wanted to be someone that could be supportive. a part of me knew it was wrong but a part of me wanted to desperately talk to you and know how you were doing. looking back, i always wanted to give my love to you because i could never love myself. i loved you and wanted for you to be okay but it was foolish of me to believe that that involved me being in your life. i didn't mean for it to happen the way it did. its something i truly regret. theres no excuses other than i am selfish and i did it all for myself in reality because if i did care about you i wouldnt have done this and wouldve simply respected your wishes since the begining.i am immensely ashamed for my actions and the hurt i caused you. i wish you had never met me too
its distressing coming to the reflection that this is who i truly am-a cruel, selfish, hurtful person in sheeps clothing.i know that at least its not who used to be but maybe i am now.i dont want to b V but im trying to be a better person. i truly am and wish i was better but i hate myself right now for what i did and wont ever forgive myself i write this so you know that i realize this is finally the end and point of no return. ill never reach out to you again. you were a good person to me and i hope you never feel any guilt and that you can just forget me. if you read this please dont worry about your weight because its just a temporary blip and youre beautiful inside and out. any person will see that
i write this to give you any peace that i can. now that ill be gone, i realize maybe slowing down and not rushing might have helped. but my brain was broken. my heart was empty. the rush hurt both of us so im sorry. ive tried so many times to be normal and not feel this way and but i just lost hope. im a cruel, selfish, hurtful person in sheeps clothing. im a horrible person. youre right. youre right. this stuck to me and i cant get it out of my mind. this inner turmoil and spiraling is too much to bear but i deserve all of it. the immense despair ive been experiencing for what i did, for what i caused you, has been unimaginably painful. its what I deserve. you deserve nothing but happiness and good things. i hope youre life is well and you can forget i existed

Note: Questions about monetization? Check here: An Introduction To The Book That Is Me :
Note: Questions about what else I've done? Check here: Masterlist for edgiscript :
Part 6: [F4M] Mafia Dog - Part 6 of 7 [Confronting Your Yandere] [Sneaking Into The Mission] [Supporting Mom] :
Note: Just realized yesterday that the tags on every chapter should be [FF4M] instead of [F4M] which some are. Sorry about that.
Note to those of you who have been reading and enjoying this series: Thank you. I hope the finale meets your expectations. I said before that this was a post-horror-yandere story. If anyone feels like writing a backstory with Francine and Puppy before he was Puppy, go right ahead. I don't do horror.
Note for future stuff: At present (5/19/24) I'm adding nearly my entire library to Reddit 1 piece at a time with some exceptions. Most notably, Crazy Cat is doing a masterful job with Mayna in "Amazon's Surprise" and she's only posted parts 1-3 so far. I will only release parts 4-7 as she does them. 3 VAs have currently done the 1st part of "The Captive Yandere" and at least 2 are considering whether or not to do more, so I'm holding of on releasing parts 2-6. And Xarty was incredibly endearing as Kaylix in "The Weakest Orc - A Love Story" part 1. I'm holding off releasing parts 2-7 until she does them or decides she won't do any more. But if there are VAs interested in performing those series, contact me and I'll send you the full scripts so you can decide if you want to do them before they're released publicly.
Now for Part 7. (Bet you didn't know this movie would come with trailers.) :)

Part 7

Carissa: (Sorrowfully.) Friends, family, loved ones, we have come today to mourn a beloved friend and colleague. We are going to miss his smile, his warmth, his courage, and his genuine love for each and every one of us, but most of all we’re going to miss the sound of his voice…
(With humor.) …because now that Puppy has married Jane, every one of us here knows that he’s never going to get a word in again.
(Sound of mild laughter of people at the party.)
Jane, you’ve been my courage, my fire, and my wisdom for so long now, I’ve forgotten what it was like without you here. Your spark has kept me going through many trying times. I’ve been able to count on your unwavering patience and your perseverance since the moment you joined our group. You have been by my side through thick and thin and you will be missed.
Puppy, in the nearly two years since we rescued you, you have been my heart and my conscience. I’m proud, very proud that you consider me as your mother, because I most definitely think of you as my son. You have also been by my side through thick and thin and you will also be missed.
Jane and Puppy, my left hand and my right, as you leave us to begin your own journey, at least temporarily, may God watch over you both, and may everyone you meet bring you as much joy as you have brought to all of us. Kent, Mike, Ronnie, and everyone present, please lift your glasses with me as we toast, to Puppy and Jane.
(Pause while they drink, then sounds of minor applause.)
Jane: (Hugs Carissa.) Thank you, mom. We’ll miss you guys.
(Brief pause, then playfully.) Puppy, you can hug Mom in a second. Let me get mine in.
Carissa: You see, Puppy. It’s started. There’s still time. Save yourself. Run.
Jane: (Laughs, then with mock irritation.) Carissa!
Carissa: Nope. I’m still Puppy’s Mom and I’ve got to do what’s best for him.
(Both laugh.)
Carissa: Seriously, you guys, be well. I know you want to show Puppy so many things that he missed growing up the way he did, but… well, just… be safe. Ok?
Jane: Oh, Mom, we’ll be fine. Stop worrying. Puppy’s going to love it.
Carissa: I know. I know. But… (Sighs.) I love both of you so much. Go have fun. See the world. Hurry. Run now before I hug you both and refuse to let go. We’ll be here when you get back.
Jane: We love you too, Mom. Thank you. You’ve been…
Carissa: (Interrupting.) No. Seriously. Go now. Go! Go, go, go, go, go!
Jane: (Laughs.) All right. We’re going. Come on, Puppy. You heard her.
(Runs off. Car door opens and closes. Car sounds as they drive away.)
Well, Puppy. How does it feel?
(Pause.)
To be married? You’re not just Puppy now. You’re MY Puppy.
(Pause.)
(Laughs/Giggles.) Yes, you’ve been my Puppy for a while, but now it’s official. Or legal, anyway.
(Pause.)
Nope. I don’t care. You’re mine. The wedding and the reception are over. I don’t have to share you with another soul for the rest of our lives. (Giggles.)
(Pause.)
Ok, we’ll see them again. I’m not taking you away for good. But you’ll still always be mine no matter what anybody else says about it. (Giggles.)
(Pause.)
Yes, it’s definitely nicer that we can be open about it. We’re so used to living in the shadows, you and me. Being out in public like a regular couple… that’s nice.
(Pause)
(Giggle.) Yes, there are definitely some things we’re not going to do out in the open. Speaking of which, there’s our stop.
(Pause)
Yep. That little house by the ocean. I rented it out just for us.
(Pause. Car comes to a stop and car door opens and closes.)
Nope. I already put all of our luggage in there before the wedding. Now, all that’s left to do is for you to carry me across the threshold. Unless, of course, you want me to carry you. We’re not exactly the most traditional couple after all and…
(Jane is interrupted by Puppy picking her up.)
(Squeals as she’s picked up and laughs. Kiss.) Oh, Puppy. Does this all feel as magical and as much like a fairy tale to you as it does to me? I can’t believe I get to call myself your wife. I love you, Puppy.
(Pause. Front door opens and closes.)
Oh no. You don’t get to set me down yet. Not until we’ve reached the bedroom. (Giggles.) I’ve got a surprise for you.
(Pause.)
(Laughs.) No, that’s not it. That’s no surprise, silly. You already knew I was going to give you that. (Giggles.) No, I’ve got something else for you.
(Pause while they reach the bedroom.)
Here we are. Now, lay me down and then lay down beside me.
(Pause.)
I love you so much, Puppy.
(Pause.)
I know you love me too. And I’m not just saying that because it’s the proper response. I want you to really, truly know that I know you love me. I meant everything I said in my wedding vows. My heart and my soul belong to you now. Ever since I’ve known you after we rescued you from that personal prison of Francine’s, you’ve been nothing but kind, considerate of others, laughing and loving everyone when you could have been broken and bitter. I love you for that, Puppy.
(Pause.)
(Giggles.) Ok, you’re kinda cute too. (Giggles.)
(Pause.)
(Note: From here on, there are no instructions on how to say the rest of this. Please let your own emotions decide how it should be done. Tender and sweet? Tearful? Joyful? You decide.)
Thank you, Puppy. I will always love to hear you say that. But I wanted you to know just how much I love you. I know you said that when you were trapped by Francine, and while she was… well, you know. She would constantly tell you how much she loved you and needed you, even while she was hurting you. She didn’t know love, Puppy. She only knew her own obsession and her lust. She took what she wanted from you without any consideration for you. When she said that she loved you, all she did was hurt you.
I know it’s why you don’t even want me to call you by your given name. It brings back memories of her and even the broken life you had before she took you. I gave you the name Puppy, and when I say “I love you,” I actually do love you. You’ve told me that you only want me to call you Puppy because that marks you as mine, and that’s what you want.
Here. Before I go on, open that drawer. Yes, that one right beside the bed. Open it.
(Drawer opens.)
Take the key that’s in there. That’s the key to your chains. I found that after we rescued you when we did a sweep of Francine’s old headquarters. I saved it… for you. It’s yours now. Nobody owns you. Nobody controls you. You’re free. You can keep it as a symbol that you control your own destiny now, or you can throw it into the ocean tomorrow morning. But you decide. Nobody else.
I know that the pain she caused you happened because all she wanted to do was take from you with no thought of your well-being. She didn’t care how much it hurt you as long as it satisfied her needs. So, Puppy, when I say “I love you,” I want you to know that I’m not taking from you. I’m giving to you. I’m giving you me, Puppy. I’m yours. I’m your wife. I’m your love. I’m your friend. I’m whatever you need me to be. Whatever you need from me, I’m here to provide it for you. I really, really love you. Ok?
(Kiss.)
You’re the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me. And I vow to you that I will never let you forget that for as long as we both shall live.
(Kisses.)
(Fade out.)

Hurricane Georg.
Our first contact with the new world was a colossal hurricane. Veins of lightning shattered through the black, swirling clouds. I had just tried to calm the nerves of the ship when I saw Suri sitting in the hall beneath the control room.
She was in a lounge corner with her suitcase opened and her supplies scattered across the small table. The little light from the window illuminated her drawing for me to see over her shoulder.
The black and white sketch began at the bow of the ship. The figure of a man in facing the open ocean. Ahead of him, the familiar despair of Hurricane Georg. The man had his back towards the artist, but his stature sailed through the fierce storm without worry. His gaze only in the beautiful sight of home on the other side.
Her pencil began to etch the details of his crewmans jacket, "You have a gift, Suri. Truly, you do."
She was ahead of me, she did not jump or gasp as I had expected, "Thank you, Capi. I saw you in the reflection. Im hard to get the jump on."
"Then this shouldnt surprise you," I smiled and approached her table. "My capi stars are on the right side, "I stepped back and tapped my shoulder."
Disappointment inked her face, darkening her mood, "Dam."
I laughed and pulled up a chair. She had captured the view from the window perfectly and I made a point to tell her. As we talked the storm outside began to fade. The world around us was healed and the worries of yesterday had never existed.
Her eyes were near black, in color, and her skin was incredibly warm. Physical characteristic were useless to determine where a person was from, but 500 years ago, she would have fit at home with the people of the Middle East. Had I been a different man, her beauty and brain would make a perfect partner.
The longer I stared, the darker the world around us became. Until she broke my gaze and looked shocked at something through the window.
"Did you see that?"
"No, what was it?"
"I-Im not sure..." her face drained of color as the harsh rocking of the storm was interrupted by something else. Suri and I were flung off our chairs onto the floor, her supplies pelting us as they flew through the air. I tried to stand, but my legs were too soft to make it easy.
I struggled to a kneel using the bolted-down desk. Suri gasped and I looked down. The longer I looked, the itchier it became. Once more the world grew darker and I only had enough energy for a simple joke.
"Mr. Morgs was right about those things."
"Gud morning, Capi!" Ennay cheered from the wall-mounted screen.
I struggled to sit myself up. I was in the infirmary, only Ennay was there to greet me. My jacket was gone. All I had on was a white t-shirt and grey shorts.
"Officer Angelhart had your attire taken to be cleaned," Ennay chimed in, "Today is Wednesday, sir, 4:13am. Its the morning after you lost consciousness."
I thanked him and asked him to catch me up on the happenings in the passed half day.
"The reality is unclear, Capi, but Helmsman Archer believes we were attacked by a... a sea monster, sir."
"Archer? Hes no storyteller. Why?" I swung my legs over the bed, "get him down here or tell him im on my way."
Ennay surprised me with his fast response, "No. Sir, We had a breach. Ms. Aziz told the Doctor you had severed and artery during a spell of turbulence. The New Horizon had actually made contact with something what breached the hull. Damage Control responded in 4 minutes and were quick to contain flooding. However, we sustained a second breach."
Before he could continue, I dropped back onto the bed, "Whats the status?"
"On the New Horizon? Operational. A few sections had to be permanently sealed until we are out of this storm."
"And Damage Control?"
Ennay did not respond as quickly as he had been. It felt like an eternity before he told me, "6 casualties," the room fell completely silent. I couldnt even hear my heart beating, "5 fatalities. Sergant Franccigo Blanco is recovering in Infirmary 4C. He is unconscious, but has sustained gruesome wounds. Officer Angelhart declared a S.O.E. to assume your position. Otherwise,..."
"Yes, yes, the prosthetics. I hate that system."
"Well, sir, you are able to disable it."
"What?"
"Its not a very common scenario, but since we are not in International Sea, the law requiring your presence does not necessarily need to be enforced."
I sat back and thought for a second, "Ill discuss it with Dr. Mally. Where are they all?"
"Dr. Mally is in Infirmary 4C with Sergant Blanco. Officer Angelhart is your office filling out an incident report for both your accident and the breaches."
"Thank you, Ennay. Tell Max I am on my way and then let Dr. Mally know I will meet her shortly."
"Of course, sir."
My office was silent except for the fan gently spinning from the ceiling. Across from me was a young man, mid-twenties, with dusty blond hair. His uniform was perfect, he has even removed his hat on the perfect beat upon entering the room.
The appearance and demeanor any ship captain would be beyond proud to accept on his ship. It had just been dumb luck that he had lost both of his eyes to shrapnel sealing off the lower corridors during the state of emergency yesterday.
I poured Mr. Blanco a drink, 2444 Geoff Russel - The Hearty Mans Drink. I needed to finish the incident report, but Id never ask a man to relive what he had without a bit of buzz to his bite.
"So, Sargent Blanco, I-"
"You can call me, Fran, Capi."
"And you can call me Santago, for tonight anyway," I continued my questions. I tried my best to stay shallow and not dive deep into the pain Fran had endures just hours ago.
We talked about the 5 fatalities.
"Did you... see... them die?"
The gauze replacing his eyes stared at me, blankly. His face was uncanny, unhuman. Like the man inside may actually have been a 6th dead body.
"No," he quickly took a drink, "I did hear them, though. They yelled and screamed for me to open the door. I- I couldnt see. I thought the sea water had poisoned me somehow. I kept rubbing and rubbing my eyes hoping to get whatever radioactive stuff out of my head..." He took a breath. He was remarkably calm. Agitated, of course. But calm.
He continued, "I looked through the window on the bulkhead and the last thing I saw was Aleks staring back at me. His eyes were... he was calling out for me, I am sure of it. But something got him and he was sucked out."
"I am so sorry, Fran," I tried to write as quietly as possible to not remind him of the formality, "Do you know what got him?"
He finished his glass. As he set it down, he missed the table. The cup did not shatter, but it had jolted Fran from his memory. He lost his composure.
He started yelling at me about a horrific beast he had seen. How Aleks, Private Aleksander Igorsen, had been encased in blood and black sludge. He swung his hands wildly at the table in a rage, but had only managed to knock over a lamp.
Pity does not begin to describe what I felt watching him. Like a bleeding animal continuing to run from the wolves despite not knowing he was already surrounded. In him, I saw death. I saw anger. I saw fear. I saw what he was feeling imaging the creature that killed his men.
I grappled with him, trying to make my location known and always talking to him. I was not some monster from the unknown blackness set on hunting him and he needed to know that. He continued to struggle until I had completely engulfed his whirlwind into a hug. The screams turned to cries and then to whimpers.
After some time, I dismissed him back to his room and instructed Ennay that he was on suicide watch. Sergant Franccigo Blanco had earned a promotion or a permanent dismissal, whichever he wanted, but I needed him to take time to himself before I reminded him where we are.
The storm was intense, but at least it was consistent. By Katzs reckoning, we are approaching the halfway point of this hurricane. We had entered it 51 hours ago and Katz had said we are another 50 away from clear skies.
Unfortunately for all of us, Katzs theory was not seen through.
It began with our solar panelling being severed from their operating power banks. That was not a major issue, hydropower was our primary source. The issue arose when the New Horizon began to spin.
I had radioed the Helmsman demanding why we are weighing anchor, but the anchor was still resting above water. He said no one dropped the anchor. Something else entirely had us. We rushed to every window, every pane of glass to search for whatever it was that was stopping us.
Ennay spoke out, "Capi, Major Gorlammi has spotted our snag at 129 degrees. Nearest viewpoint is Residential Room L3D, assigned to L-"
I ignored the rest, I needed to see what was in that window. Luckily for me, Lucy Partridge was not home. I burst through the door and, for the first time, I saw a behemoth of a serpent-like creature sticking out of the water. I could not see a head, nor tail. I also had no idea if what I saw was the body or an appendage connected to some inconceivably large beast.
After enough time, I manage to figure out one of the ships heavy guns had pierced the creature and was holding us together. Our best bet was to either rotate the gun and hope its dislodged or to remove the gun entirely.
I relayed this information to Ennay to alerted the Gunner Teams and Damage Control. Yet, none of them would be given the chance. In the distance, silhouetted by sparks of lightning the size of the ship, I saw the head of the creature. It must have been miles away, but the size was unparalleled. Its head leaped from the water and swiveled back towards us. It was like a colossal eel. Flashes of light showed through its skin like veins until it sent a surge into the gun and into the ship.
The lights went out across the boat. The only light was the occasional flash from outside. It was completely dark, but I knew it was still coming for us.
I ran out of the quarters as emergency lights slowly burned. The hallway must have been 100 feet long before Id reach the staircase, but when I was halfway through, my feet left the ground.
I felt weightless for a moment. The lights burned out and all around me was darkness. My heart was incredibly slow or maybe time had slowed. I felt the doorframe to Mrs. Partridges room snap against my elbow. There was no pain. I didnt even feel pain when glass cut across my back as I was hurled through the shattered window.
I crashed into the water, it must have been hundreds of feet below me. I was in shock. I looked around and all I saw was darkness. Then, suddenly, all I saw was light. The eel sent a pulse through its body and for the first time I saw the monster entirely. It surrounded the ship above water, coiled all about the waves, and entangled the entire ocean as deep as I could see.
This is not a colossal eel surviving a hurricane.
This colossal eel is the very being causing the hurricane.
A cosmic terror named Hurricane Georg.

Hello all, long time lurker. Have enjoyed many posts here over the years. I'm an early 40s male with fairly significant overbite/overjet. Any time I've met with an orthodontist in my life they have told me that I needed to have jaw surgery in order to fix my bite, but the idea of it frightens me so much that I have never gone through with it, despite frequent jaw pain. About four years ago I decided I wanted to try and do something about it so I went through about 2 years of Invisalign treatment and, unfortunately, I find my bite more uncomfortable now. It's more difficult to speak, chew, breathe and I just generally feel jaw pain much of the time. The Invisalign reduced my overbite somewhat (my front uppers completely covered my front lowers before) but made my overjet worse and now my front teeth are awkwardly positioned.
I'm now torn between trying to find an orthodontist that can help me just get back to my old bite (if that's even possible) or bite the bullet and see about jaw surgery.
Towards that end, I thought I would check if anyone here has a recommendation for an orthognathic surgeon in or near the eastern PA area. I'm hoping to find someone REALLY good so am willing to travel for the right surgeon.
Thanks,

I know it’s rare for someone to be in my position, and I understand strangers on Reddit can’t help me, but I just need to vent. I’m turning 33 years old in a couple months and I’ve never had a girlfriend before…I can’t even get a foot in the door to start the process; its been almost two year since I’ve even been on a date. I’m incredibly lonely, and just want to experience real love and companionship with the right woman.
Dating is hard for a lot of folks these days I’m sure, but it hurts me that I’m so behind my peers, and can’t do something so basic as to find a single woman within a 100 mile radius of my house, where we’re both mutually interested and attracted to each other to go one simple date and get to know each other.
I’m a normal, healthy, emotionally stable fully functioning adult in society: I’m self-aware, in therapy, good job, I’m fit and hit the gym 3-4 days a week, a plethora of active hobbies, and take care of my hygiene. I’m family oriented and would love to be a dad someday. Everyone tells me looks aren’t my problem (I am on the shorter side for a guy at 5’7), but people around me say I’m a funny and charismatic person to be around. I know I’m not automatically entitled to dates just because I think I’m a good man, but the reality is I don’t even get a chance to prove myself…ever.
My dating apps are a barren wasteland and don’t work for me. I never get matches, despite having my profiles reviewed several times right on here on Reddit and by friends. They all say I should be swimming in matches and it’s one of the better profiles they’ve seen. Alas its been almost two years since I’ve had a date or even a real match that wasn’t a scammer or bot. I’m not just relying on dating apps though, I’ve made a genuinely honest effort to put myself out there in real life and join hobbies and activities to meet people.
I’ve tried basically everything:
joining meetups, hiking groups, single events, board game nights, going out to bars with friends, dance classes, the cold approach, leaving my number on waitresses receipts, using the dating apps, rock climbing gyms, and even asking friends of friends if they know anyone they could set me up with. (Everyone is married so they all said they don’t know anyone). All of that and not a single date. Needless to say I did manage to make a few friends here or there which is awesome, but that’s about it…not even a phone number or social media handle to show for it. All I see is rejection and to date, I’ve legitimately never had a woman say yes to me in person before. Not even hyperbole, literally 100% rejection rate. I’m charming, smell good and take a genuine interest in people but it’s never mutual back. I feel like I’m missing some secret sauce or something; I’m at a complete loss why women are never interested in me back.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not desperate. I’m not going after Instagram models or have unrealistic standards, but I’m also not settling for just any woman for sake of being with someone.
Quite frankly I’ve done the single thing. I’ve spent my whole life single, I’ve put in the self-growth and effort. Now I want to experience the other side of life and know what it’s like to have a partner, to meet my special person who’s as excited about me as I am about them.
Loneliness is the worst imaginable pain I’ve ever experienced, and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. This statement coming from someone who got 3rd degree burns from spilling boiling bacon grease on himself as a kid.
I don’t want to give up, but with zero successes, I don’t know what else to do. 😞

Hello all, I’m hoping someone can shed some light on what’s going on with me.
Male 29 US
No medications, taking Vitamin D and B12
For the past few months I’ve been experiencing the following symptoms. Random pain in my left armpit/shoulder area right where my arm connects to my torso. Sometimes the pain will shoot down my arm to my fingertips. Recently I’ve developed new more alarming symptoms. I start yawning uncontrollably despite having plenty of sleep. At the same time as I’m yawing, my head will feel very “full” I feel pressure in the back on neck on the left side. The left side of my jaw will hurt. My ears pop. And I feel lost, confused, sometimes even like I’m disconnected i guess? I’ll have trouble understanding when someone is talking to me. It’s almost like I don’t feel present if that makes sense? All these symptoms happen at the exact same time. Meaning it’s either I’m feeling all of them OR I feel completely fine. I’ve even narrowed down when the symptoms start. When I wake up and I’m doing things around the house I feel completely fine, but the second I get into my car the symptoms all hit me like a truck and they don’t stop for the rest of the day. They will continue even when I get to work. The only time the symptoms will stop is if I’m actively engaged in something work related, conversation, or anything stimulating. This has been going on for about 3-4 months.
I don’t know who to turn to anymore, I just want some answers. SOMETHING to bring up to my PCP. Anything. I’ve been to 5 doctors, I’ve gone to the ER twice. Blood tests came back fine except for really low Vitamin D (which I’ve been working on). Had chest x rays and those were fine too. Everyone is telling me I’m fine, I’ve even tried more “non traditional” approaches like Asian teas, and shady chiropractors. Nothing is helping. Doctors are just saying it’s stress it’s stress. I’ve lived with stress my entire life. Why is this happening now? What can it be? What can I do? Somebody please help me because I feel trapped.

Is it possible to experience agoraphobia exclusively in academic settings? I've recently begun therapy, and my therapist emphasized that it's okay to take some time off to reassess things. However, I find myself feeling incredibly bored. My only activities are going to the movies and spending time with my boyfriend. Even casual hangouts with college friends feel exhausting because college-related topics inevitably come up.
What I'm truly afraid of is the possibility of running into my ex or former friends on campus. It's the idea of encountering people I fear, even though I know it's irrational. I've been trying to cope by planning to return to school, watching guided tours of the campus, and so forth. But it's overwhelming, and I'm experiencing physical symptoms like nausea, stress-induced neck pain, panic attacks, and sudden drops in blood pressure. Strangely, these symptoms only occur when I'm on campus. Is this normal? Has anyone else experienced this?
I recognize that this is a very specific issue, and I'm still able to manage other activities like work and grocery shopping. It's just college that feels overwhelming right now. I'm on medication, but I feel like it's no longer effective (though I continue to take it).

Hello all, I’m hoping someone can shed some light on what’s going on with me.
Male 29 US
No medications, taking Vitamin D and B12
For the past few months I’ve been experiencing the following symptoms. Random pain in my left armpit/shoulder area right where my arm connects to my torso. Sometimes the pain will shoot down my arm to my fingertips. Recently I’ve developed new more alarming symptoms. I start yawning uncontrollably despite having plenty of sleep. At the same time as I’m yawing, my head will feel very “full” I feel pressure in the back on neck on the left side. The left side of my jaw will hurt. My ears pop. And I feel lost, confused, sometimes even like I’m disconnected i guess? I’ll have trouble understanding when someone is talking to me. It’s almost like I don’t feel present if that makes sense? All these symptoms happen at the exact same time. Meaning it’s either I’m feeling all of them OR I feel completely fine. I’ve even narrowed down when the symptoms start. When I wake up and I’m doing things around the house I feel completely fine, but the second I get into my car the symptoms all hit me like a truck and they don’t stop for the rest of the day. They will continue even when I get to work. The only time the symptoms will stop is if I’m actively engaged in something work related, conversation, or anything stimulating. This has been going on for about 3-4 months.
I don’t know who to turn to anymore, I just want some answers. SOMETHING to bring up to my PCP. Anything. I’ve been to 5 doctors, I’ve gone to the ER twice. Blood tests came back fine except for really low Vitamin D (which I’ve been working on). Had chest x rays and those were fine too. Everyone is telling me I’m fine, I’ve even tried more “non traditional” approaches like Asian teas, and shady chiropractors. Nothing is helping. Doctors are just saying it’s stress it’s stress. I’ve lived with stress my entire life. Why is this happening now? What can it be? What can I do? Somebody please help me because I feel trapped.

I’ll try this again.
This is for me personally and my experience and not about what anyone else is doing. I respect all journeys.
Personally I have been finding success with moving on by untraining my brain of the intermittent reinforcement she used by ghosting and reappearing without warning. It did a serious number on me psychologically. I have also decided to go no contact. Even though she recently popped up where we met and two of her friends contacted me to try to get me to go back there and one of them told me she was there. My experience with her checked all of the twin flame boxes, but she has never confirmed anything other than clearly being overwhelming drawn to me for years when we were friends. I had a full strong and jolting awakening and everything after we finally got intimate and she promptly ghosted and said it was “too much”. It was after she ghosted that I had the awakening in her absence. But immediately after being intimate I had the heart chakra bust open and electric body feeling.
When I told her I thought she was my tf when she came back she at first was loving it but then later laughed and said it was probably a trauma bonds. Now I am thinking it is probably the case after all. I am very spiritual regardless after we had our intimate encounter, but I think it is for the best that I stop running back to her like a fool every time she appears. It is one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do is to avoid her. The funny thing is she says do not contact her but then goes places and sends her friends to try to reel me in. No thanks.
So when I see her name repeatedly somewhere or someone who looks like her or a car that is like hers, I just face my feelings at the time and feel them fully. And of course it is at first the feelings of “I am so in love and this is magical and special and oh my god it’s real” and it makes me cry and bawl to accept it is not. I been crying for years but the difference before was I allowed her back in… But every time I do this feeling of my feelings it and it isn’t her, it helps to train my brain that she indeed is not popping up and that it isn’t some magical destined thing. And I won’t allow her back in even if she did pop up randomly. It gets easier every time. Shorter process each time. It was just that every time I let her back into my life I was reinforcing this reward pathway in my brain and I was believing almost anything just to get another hit of attention from her or to be around her like an addiction. And I believe she knew full well what she was doing now that I look back on it. So, be safe out there.
I had finally realized she is not anyone special more than anyone else and apologized to her for putting her on a pedestal and how embarrassing it was and how I was wrong a couple months back. There was no way she could’ve ever met those expectations I put on her and it was unfair to her. Even with all the boxes being checked for TF I don’t care. I refuse to lower myself.
And I genuinely meant that from my heart, I felt I put too high expectations and was being fanciful. I just want to move on with my life now and this method is working for me and I am happy. But, right after I apologized she blocked me. Then not long after is when someone contacted me and told me they saw her and she looked “weird” and tried to get me to go to the place she was at. Heck no.
For me my journey is realizing this person is not ever going to be worthy of me and if she ever was she would have to grow so much and she wouldn’t be playing childish games still. And every time I deny her access to my life I go through a period of intense healing and ascension almost immediately afterward. I had a full kundalini awakening when she left the first time. And then when she came back it was like all the energy left when she ghosted the second time. Now I refuse to play into her games and avoid her. I actually do much better for myself and my life is so very good without her, so I am happy to heal and block anyone who contacts on her behalf. I really don’t need her messing anything up for me with her negativity or lowering my vibe. It is highly likely that she will never heal. And the only thing I can do is give her space, refrain from enabling her, and keep my vibe as high as possible if there was any chance she really is my twin. So, either way, the answer is clearly to do what is best for me and avoid her.

I was born in a large city. My parents 21f and 24m were both university students when I was conceived, my mother was in 3rd year. I'm not sure what year my dad was in. I always get vague answers when I ask. My parents originally planned to become teachers after completing teachers college.
Instead they married largely due to family pressure early in the pregnancy. Immediately after that they backpacked around southern Europe and Morroco. They drank considerably and smoked Marijuana as often as they could. Their original intention was to teach English in Spain, but apparently changed their mind because of the hospital, cost seemed to be the main factor. They returned to our city with my father going back to school and eventually getting his teaching degree and his first teaching job when I was 3 or 4.
My mother seemed to resent having to care for an infant. During my childhood she would complain about the awful diapers and mixing formula, etc.
When I was approximately 2 -3 years-old I was diagnosed with cerebal palsy. Immediately after I was diagnosed my parents started trying to conceive another child. By the time my sister was 1 year old, my parents decided she wasn't as perfect as they thought she should be so they conceived my youngest sister.
My kindergarten teacher wanted me to repeat kindergarten because of my very poor motor skills mostly cutting and pasting but also my printing was very messy, which was mostly due to the tremors. I was intellectually able to do all of the work and I could already read. If had gone to senior kindergarten I would have been able to enter French immersion, which started the year after I entered school. Also I was the youngest child in my class because I was born late in the year. The French immersion schools were much better funded and had much better teachers and resources. I stayed in the original school which was one of the 2 worst schools in our region. My first grade teacher made me stand in front of the class to evaluate my reading, I was very shy and soft spoken, so I stammered slightly. From this alone she put me in the bottom reading group even though repeatedly showed her that I could read any book in the room. Standardized testing in 2nd grade showed that my reading and math skills were at 6th grade level. I know this because the guidance teacher showed my scores and explained what they meant when I was frustrated with the pace of the classroom and lack of mentally challenging work. My teachers would make me write things over and over because of the 'messiness'. This never worked and my printing would get worse because of fatigue and pain. I was bullied by most of the kids in my class because I was small, clumsy, physically weak, and somewhat odd looking, the fact that I was very smart also didn't help. My teacher wouldn't allow me to use the washroom when I needed it, since I had a bladder disorder related to my cerebal palsy, that meant I would sometimes wet myself. This only happened when I wasn't allowed to use the washroom when I needed to. This led to the other kids calling me diaper queen. Eventually I was exempted from most of my in class subjects and allowed to work independently in the library on whatever I desired. When I was in 2nd or 3rd grade my arm was badly sprained by a bully and I was prescribed a tensor bandage to support my hand and wrist. I noticed that my printing was better with it and I tried to keep using it. My mother found out and angrily took it away from even though I explained that it helped me. She would not listen and there was no explanation at all. She would send me to school no matter how sick I was, and would only let be at home when the school said I was too sick to be there. Our house never had a thermometer or bandaids or any other health related items, not even a hot water bottle or heating pad. When I was in 5th grade I developed a ganglion on the inside of my middle finger, it was very painful and made it even more difficult and painful to write. I saw a hand surgeon who said he could remove it easily and quickly. My parents, mostly my mother refused to allow me to have this surgery even though it would be completely paid for through our canadian health program.
Every few months we would visit family friends in the city each time before we went home my dad would go to a bank machine, except we always parked at the far edge of the parking lot and my dad would walk away and then be gone for 30 to 40 minutes. I realized later that he was buying amounts of Marijuana about a pound or two each. He and my mother would smoke it regularly, they I wasn't aware but I especially the air currents would waft the smell to my window.
Even though I asked repeatedly to be moved to a different school my parents made no efforts to do so. I could have been moved based on my disability and also my intellectual giftedness. I was not taken to a dentist until I was 8 years old. By this time I already decay in several of my teeth, partly because our water wasn't fluoridated. My dad could have added flouride to our well water for a very low cost, but was too cheap to do so. Another factor was I did not have a child size toothbrush so it made much more difficult to clean my teeth effectively.
My parents were home most of the time but spent very little time with their children. There was very little affection shown. I had very few clothes, with one or two items bought for back to school. And sometimes none since I was failure to thrive and grew very slowly. At Christmas my mother would buy the same toys for all 3 of us even though I was 4 1/2 and 7 older than my sisters. One year she bought all of us cabbage patch dolls, this was even though I had never had any interest in dolls or girly stuff. She did this again when the cabbage patch dolls came out.
My grandfather died when I was 9 years old, my grandmother remarried suddenly when I was 13. She lived with him in England for several months but then they moved back to town close to us. There were frequent family gatherings that included him. From almost the beginning he would find ways to trap me and sexually assault me by pushing me against a wall or into a corner he would then force his tongue into my mouth and rub his penis against me. He would also shove his hands into my pants... During my adolescence I was misdiagnosed with depression, when I actually post traumatic stress reaction because of the many things I'd dealt already, I was sent to a psychiatrist who didn't listen to me and wasn't competent, she kept prescribing different drugs when I didn't respond to them the way I 'should ' have. She put on lithium with no sign of bipolar disorder. I very developed severe lithium toxicity. She took me off it eventually. At some point she decided that since antidepressants weren't working it must because I was psychotic. She put on antipsychotics even though I repeatedly told I was not psychotic and I never was. She wound up convincing my parents to send to this inpatient program for adolescents with psychosis. I talked to the psychiatrist there once and he knew I had never been psychotic, he stopped my medication immediately and I was the only one there not on any medications and was not mentally ill at all. But I wound up spending 8 months there.
There were other things that went on with my family but this about as much as I can write right now. Am I wrong to distance myself from my family ? I feel little connection to them and they usually want to draw me into some drama that I don't want to deal with. tl;dr; childhood experiences, neglect

I started having ulcer symptoms about 8 weeks ago (constant heartburn, bad nausea, burning pain that only improved after eating). I went in soon after the symptoms started and got put on omeprazole right away. GI issues run in my family, including Crohn’s and other serious stuff, so I got tested for Crohn’s and got a CT scan, and thankfully those tests showed no signs of inflammation or serious damage. After 6 weeks on omeprazole I was still having nausea and stomach sensitivity so my doctor ordered H Pylori tests. The lab told me to go off the PPI for at least three days; I went off for 4.
The test came back negative. I was relieved, but then I saw some things online about how you are supposed to go off meds for at least 14 days before the test or risk a false negative. I am also a little concerned as to what caused the ulcer if I don’t have H Pylori (and I never take NSAIDs). I’m torn between trusting my doctolab and getting retested. What do you think? Should I get retested?