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 am a university student who just started last year and am thankful to have made a few friends since then. I would consider myself introverted and value my time alone and at home, especially since I commute to school. The friend I’m closest to the most at school has been fun to hang around with on campus during breaks between classes but they often ask me to take them home late after my classes are done and hang out every weekend and often on weekdays. I’ve gladly taken them home a couple of times, but sometimes I’d would’ve preferred going home right after my classes because they take up all of my day. Part of me would like to hang out with them more outside of school but another part of me would strongly prefer to stay home and focus on school (especially since there’s always exams and important assignments I like to take my time preparing for). A reason i’m hesitant to hang out is because I know it takes a long time to drive to their home, where we’d hang out, back to thier house and back to my home (over an hour and a half of commuting). The one time we did hang out earlier this year I commuted over 4 hours over the course of a day and it left me really tired. The first time we hung out they offered to pay for gas which I respectfully declined and now they don’t really offer anymore which is okay but driving around takes up quite a bit of gas. My friend also can’t drive a car so it’s on me to be the driver whenever we hang out. I feel the need to make up excuses but often I legitimately can’t hang out due to family obligations but it feels bad to say no so often. Whenever school is in session, I’d really like to dedicate myself to schoolwork and studying but since I’ve been asked to hang out every week almost every other day it feels hard to focus on school because I’m worrying about being asked to hang out. Now I’ve said that I can hang out tomorrow but I’m not as excited as I think I should be. I only really said yes so that I don’t feel as pressured to hang out for a while after. I don’t know if I’m being too introverted. Part of me thinks I should just suck it up and try to be more social and get out of my comfort zone, and I’m totally cool with hanging out once in a while but I don’t want to be asked to hang out so often. I know as I get older that it might be harder to find friends so I really want to try and maintain friendships I have now but it sometimes feels like I’m doing too much or putting pressure on myself that isn’t even there.

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.)

My mom made a comment about my weight during lunch and I have always struggled with eating disorders, I am not or ever have been overweight I’m in a normal weight, I got mad and told her it was a terrible comment and moved seats on the table next to my dad and told them I didn’t feel good and I wanted to leave lunch. My mom was entertaining my uncle and aunt since we invited them to the lunch and they felt a little awkward after I got mad with my mom. My dad kept pushing me to get over it and eat something, he even ordered my favorite drink for me, but I kept telling him I wanted to leave.
I texted one of my close friends and asked him to pick me up to get some lunch together. My dad kept insisting that I couldn’t leave them at lunch and I kept telling him I didn’t feel comfortable eating there anymore. My friend got to the restaurant and I was going to leave and my dad got really mad because he 1. Dislikes my friend bc he is from a lower social class than us 2. He said it was very disrespectful to leave them at lunch.
My dad got really mad and I wanted to avoid a scene so I stayed. I kept getting sadder and angrier because I did not feel comfortable in a table where comments were said about my appearance, and where they manipulated me to stay somewhere I didn’t feel comfortable. Inevitably I began silently crying lowering my head so no one saw me, I was next to my dad and I kept begging him to let me leave the table, he still said no.
I stayed there silently crying for about three hours while they finished lunch. I’m remote working so I moved back to my parents house for a few months. I was very angry at how my dad tried to control who I hang out with and where I go (I’m 25). I sent them money for rent for the months I’ll be here and told them I would be taking care of myself in exchange of not being humiliated like that ever again and have freedom.
Everything went downhill when we got home. I have never experienced my dad shouting at me so bad and my mom too. It got to the point where I felt 5 years old again and my parents were fighting. They called me ignorant, spoiled, with no manners, dramatic. I was crying and I explained to them why the comment about my weight hurt me so much. My dad understood and hugged me. My mom kept telling me I was being dramatic and that her mom treated her the same and she never responded with such disrespect. She also said I ruined her day and her week since she only gets Sundays off.
After that, my parents began fighting saying horrible things to each other. I got very scared, they fight a lot and say bad things but never like this. Crying I was begging them to stop asking them to forgive me. My dad kept shouting at my mom in the name of defending me. My mom was shouting at us too and said she didn’t accept my apology.
My mom left the living room and left me crying almost passing out and my dad there too. My dad was more calm and explained why he did what he did and hugged me and apologized. I told him I hated the way he spoke to my mom and he swore he would never do it .
I explained that I gave them the money because we don’t see eye to eye in what I can do and I wanted to be free to live here and hang out with who I want and go or leave the places when I want to. He was calm but he said it was my fault that I shouldn’t have acted that way and I should learn to control myself. I told him I will never let anyone disrespect me and I will never stay in place where I’m a disrespected.
He said to not speak about it more he hugged me and I went to my room and cried . I have not talked to my mom she just sent back the money.
Idk what to do.

“Jacob, can you come over here?”
“Give me a minute, Jess. Just finishing something up”
“I’m not asking a fucking question, get over here now.”
I stared into space for a couple seconds, conjuring up the strength to get off the couch. I had just gotten back from work, and helping my girlfriend around the house was the last thing I wanted to do that night. I mean, I thought she was about to have a bath; what the fuck did she want now? Before I could get up, footsteps started rapidly approaching me from the back bathroom. I quickly threw my phone aside on the couch and hopped up, acting like I was on my way.
“What the hell is taking you so long?” Jess said, bursting through the doorway. She was in her typical business casual blazer and jeans. I hadn’t seen her since she left for work in the morning; when she came home just 5 minutes prior she headed straight for the shower. She looked… flustered.
“Sorry, I had to just finish up some paperwork for some stuff at work,” I scraped out unconvincingly. Jess looked at me skeptically, so I quickly diverted the conversation. “Anyways, we can talk about it later, what’s going on?”
“I think, I don't really know how to explain it,” Jess said. I could sense a quiver of fear in her voice. “There’s, like, an infestation.”
“Like, of spiders?” I could feel my skin crawl. I sure as hell wasn’t hoping to have a showdown in the bathtub with a tarantula.
“No, no spiders. Just flies I think. And it’s not a whole nest or anything, they’re just crawling out of the floorboards. I saw a few last night but there’s way more now.”
“Shit, well I guess I’ll go check it out if you want.”
Jess nodded, and we locked eyes. She almost looked afraid, her eyes bleached with a sense of sorrow, while her brows were furrowed.. in fear? Maybe disappointment? It had always been so hard to read her. I had so many questions to ask her, but all I could choke out was, “Are you okay?”
She stared downwards and said, “Tough day at work.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
“Yeah, I know.”
An awkward silence followed. “I’ll see what I can do,” I said, awkwardly breaking the ice.
I walked past her, through the kitchen, and into the hallway. I peered over my shoulder as I wrapped around the corner and caught Jess staring at me blankly with that same face. I finally understood; she didn’t look distraught or afraid, she was guilty. I’ll admit, we had been going through a rough patch, but we had also been going to therapy and she hadn’t shown a sign of remorse. Guilt was something that she had never shown before. It was strange, but I didn’t think much of it at the time.
I opened our bedroom door and, to my confusement, the lights were out. I tried flipping on the light switch but nothing happened. I clicked it back and forth a couple more times, but the only light came from the far corner near the window. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, spilling in a sliver of light into the darkness.
BZZZZ BZZZZZ BZZZZ BZZZZZ BZZZ
A monotone buzzing noise traveled through the shadows, grating against my ears.
BZZ BZZZZZ BZZZZZZ BZZZ BZZZZZ
I moved towards the bathroom, but I stopped right before the door.
BZZZZ BZ BZZZZ BZZZZZZZ BZZ BZ
I was afraid. The buzzing seemed to grow louder by the second. It was deafening, piercing. “It’s just a couple of flies. I can handle a couple of flies,” I muttered to myself. I opened the door, and it let out a creeaak that split through the hum like butter.
BZZZZZ BZZ BZZZZ BZZZ BZZZZZZ
When Jess had called it an infestation, she was wrong. No, that would be putting it kindly. It was a fucking plague of them. On the far end of the bathroom, where the tub lay right next to the window, flies were pounding against the window screen, attempting to break through the plastic wire. There were some who succeeded, but were stuck bouncing back and forth against the screen and the glass furiously like enraged ping pong balls. Their murmurs resonated through the room, the droning buzz mimicking the sound of power lines on a hot summer day.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
I felt like running, but instead I moved closer. I stood straight over the tub, looking down at the floorboards. Flies were flying out of the cracks by the seconds. The floor held a mixture of insects, dead and alive. There were ants and beetles that scurried among a graveyard of dead flies. That’s when it hit me; a wafting stench flared at my nostrils. It made my eyes water.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ
I shoved myself further into the swarm, getting pelted by the insects as I shoved my hands forward. I gripped my fingers around the corner of the screen and ripped it back. Flies ricocheted off my face, looking for a route to freedom. My hands fumbled for the bottom of the window, and I shoved it upwards. The insects whirred out of the room, exiting through the window and out into the night. I fell backwards and scrambled away from the continuous swarm exiting through the floorboards.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzz
The buzzing of the insects eventually faded. I got up, slowly but surely, and stumbled back over to the window. The flies were gone, but the stench still lingered. I looked downwards, over the sea of dead flies, beetles, and ants, and towards the floorboards. One spot in particular caught my eye. A few flies were still crawling out, but I took a large step over the bathtub and crunched down upon the beatles and flies. I squatted down next to the floorboard, noticing that it was very loose. I gripped my hands around it, took a deep breath, and ripped it out. The stench intensified, rushing against my face as I pulled the board out of its socket.
Concealed inside the walls of my bathroom, a rotting body lay right before my eyes. The unfortunate soul’s head had been ripped apart, its brain, or what was left of it, almost completely eaten by the insects. The body was bloated, and there was still plenty of flesh still left. It was fresh. I staggered backwards, my eyes plastered in the direction of the body. I couldn’t look away. All of a sudden, the light turned off, and my heart sank. I was completely and utterly enveloped in darkness.
“You were wrong, I’m not a bad liar,” a familiar voice giggled from behind me.
I wanted to turn around, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t bear to face what I would see, even though I knew what would await me.
“What the fuck, Jess?! Who the fuck even are you?” I decided to face my fears, and turned around to see the dark outline of my girlfriend. “You fucking killed someone and let insects turn him into fucking skin and bones?! What the fuck, what the fuck, how is this possible-” I wailed on in shock, before Jess cut me off.
“Oh, don’t worry. I didn’t let the beatles do all of the dirty work, I had a little snack as well!”
I looked at Jess in terror, disgust, and shock. She thought this was funny. Whether she was a cannibal or simply a killer, I couldn’t give a fuck. I spent years with her, I slept with that monster, and I fucking loved that bitch. I simply didn’t, and still, don’t understand.
What happened next was somewhat of a blur. All I know is that I didn’t want to end up like the person underneath the floorboards. I jumped straight out of the window and hopped in my car. I drove for hours, and I didn’t stop until I ran out of fuel. The one thing that I really do remember though, is her pleading screams for me to come back as I sped away from our house.
“Come back!”
“Please don’t leave me!”
“I love you!”
“Please don’t do this!”
“I don’t want to hurt you!”
“Let's just talk this out, please!”
As much as I want my old Jess back, I have a feeling that my old Jess never existed. I don’t know what would’ve happened if I had stayed that night. She might’ve spared me. She might’ve still loved me. Maybe we could’ve lived on as if her little hobby didn’t matter.
But I didn’t, and I don’t think I ever could’ve.

I'm someone who has always had folks by my side all my life as part of "my team," as my parents call it. A major reason for this outside support network is because I'm autistic, have ADHD-I, dysgraphia, generalized anxiety, social anxiety, PTSD (more on that later), and processing speed in the 3rd percentile.
My mental health symptoms were so severe that I enrolled in a tiny high school that had no AP, honors courses, or foreign language courses offered at all. Graduated with credentials to get admitted to Case Western, but I enrolled in a rural undergraduate school because they gave me the best scholarship offer. My parents also explicitly told me they couldn't afford Case Western, even with the scholarship they gave me. Despite my university's reputation as the "stoner college" of northern Ohio, I got my butt handed to me academically.
I wanted to take a break from college after my first year, but I was forced to stay at the behest of my parents. They hired a life coach who worked with me from a distance for all four years. As grateful as I am for that support, I realize it was the beginning of independence issues. Fast forward to graduation and I have one summer's worth of lab experience and a 3.5 PSY GPA to my name.
How did I get into graduate school? My parents hired a different coach who specialized in job applications and had a lot of connections. I sold what little I had and got offers to 6/8 Master's programs I applied to in Experimental Psychology. I also had solid references that explicitly address my abilities.
After I matriculated into the program, I got my Master's in December 2020 due to COVID delays and defending later than expected. I eventually had an ugly falling out with my first advisor due to a misunderstanding, but thankfully passed my qualifier project. My current advisor is incredible, fortunately.
Fast forward to now and I recently turned 30. For the past two years (even in the old advisor fallout situation), I've worked with the old coach who helped me with my Master's and Ph.D applications and they're even helping me with "life stuff."
I recently learned they billed my parents for around $680 these past two months (highest they've been). Even though its $100 per one hour session (thus leading me to think it was $200 a month since we meet twice a month). Turns out they charged for email and text communications with me even though those were encouraged. AITA for not keeping track of the spending despite the agreement with my parents to help me on that? Given everything else mentioned earlier, AITA for using these support systems in general?
Fiscal info: Father made $200k per year ever since he owned his small business when I was 9 years old. Mother is $70k-$80k. Me and my brothers were on our own for college tuition for some reason. We do know he took out $350k in loans for starting his small business and was paid off 9 years ago. He took out a mortgage for the house too, but we do not know it and if its paid off.

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. 😞

Friday night my boys and I all went out to a local dive bar. Some of the girls we are friends with met as later that night at the bar as well. So before the boys and I went out my friend “jack” says to me “hey I know ur super close with “nicole” and I was wondering if u could hook me up with her. I think she’s super pretty” and I said sure whatever man I’m always down to help. Nicole and I have been best friends since about freshman year of highschool and have casually hooked up multiple times. For reference I’m 20 and shes 19 and “jack” is 19 as well.
Well the boys and I are at the bar and all the girls come now. So we’re about an hour later I say to “Nicole” “jack thinks ur cute, he’s a good guy u should give him a chance” and Nicole laughs and reply’s with “you know I only want u out of this group right” and I honestly didn’t know what to say to her so I just smiled at her.
Jack sees me talking to Nicole and text me “what did she say” I didn’t want to be mean to the kid but I knew from the beginning he wasn’t Nicole’s type but I didn’t want to beat the kid down.. who knows maybe she would’ve gave him a shot and it worked out well.
It’s getting towards the end of the night now and Nicole texts me (we’re all still together just scattered around) “I wasn’t kidding when I said I only wanted you. Can you leave with me I’m not feeling good and I want to go home. If not I’ll see if one the girls will leave with me” and I won’t lie I think Nicole is really beautiful and we both had feelings for each other before but never pursued anything. I ended up ubering us back to her house so she wouldn’t be in an Uber alone.
Well jack saw us leaving together and was fluming about it. He later texted me “why would u leave with her, I thought u we’re putting me on with her and now ur hooking up with her?” (Which I didn’t know I was gonna be hooking up with her I went home with her to make sure she made home safe and stay in case she needed anything). Now Nicole sees that text while we were laying on her couch and shes pissed at jack. For more context me and Nicole ended up hooking up that night but it wasn’t planned it just happened when we got to her house.
Anyways michael one of my best friends says it was an asshole move on my end for leaving with her right in front of jack, but I explained how she wasn’t feeling good. Michael is the only one that knows me and Nicole hooked up last night (which again I didn’t know it was gonna happen). Everyone else knows we hooked up before especially when I’m home on leave.

I [M21] am at my wits-end with my SOs [F20] messiness, justified?
I [M21] am at my wits-end with my SOs [F20] messiness
One year relationship
In the beginning of us being together this wasn’t the case. When I would come over she would usually have a clean room and even if it was even a little bit messy she would apologize and/or not let me in until it was clean. Over time her cleanliness seems to erode (I guess) over time, especially after moving into her own place with her sister (who isn’t much better). It’s even started to feel like her being clean and tidy in the beginning was a mask and I’m seeing the real her now
Examples:

• Her car

is always (ALWAYS) messy. It’s become the norm for me to have to push away trash on the passenger floor with my feet, there’s usually a cup that she uses for a small garbage/ashtray. There’s even other peoples trash (usually sister’s but friends too) that she complains about but doesn’t stop them from doing.
I remember one time her phone fell under the seat so I helped her reach it. I saw so much trash and food and filters and weed crumbs under her seats.
Ive expressed about this before and she changed temporarily. Eventually I gave up on it because it’s her car and I’m never in it for long (I don’t have my own car). Plus if it really bothers I just don’t have to be in it

• her room

has become a consistent mess. It’s crazy that she always apologizes for it when I come over but nothing gets done about it. She has clothes and dishes and wrappers on the floor, her nightstand is always cluttered, there’s even been times when she “didn’t get a chance to do laundry over the week” so we will sleep on towels or t shirts over pillows instead of having pillowcases.
I’m no neat freak but I was raised to be a good host but it seems she wasn’t(?) One time after we had sex I accidentally left a used condom laying around (nothing inside, just used). The next day she had a friend over unexpectedly. No biggie, she hung out her in her room for a bit while I watched tv in the living room. She told me after that her friend left and she saw it and pointed out the condom. I sincerely apologized to my girlfriend for it as I know it would be seen as gross and embarrassing. My girlfriend didn’t care, saying “this is my house”.
A few days ago (let’s say Wednesday) she told me she accidentally spilled her ashtray on the floor. Weekend comes and that spill is still on the floor. I laughed about it initially, thinking she would get to it. She never did, despite us eating and watching tv in the living room all night and it being as simple as sweeping it up. I even accidentally stepped on the pile of ash, filters, and sticks and expressed it made me upset. Still nothing done about it, instead just walks around it every time.
what am I doing about it?
You may be saying to yourself, “why not help out sometimes?” Well one, it’s her house so it’s not my responsibility. And two, I actually have. I’m someone who was raised to be a good houseguest as well. When I’m over her place I clean. Not only do I genuinely want to help sometimes but I try to take care of any mess I contribute to. I’ll wash dishes, take out trash from our food delivery bags, etc
You may also be asking, “well have you communicated this to her?” One, I feel this isn’t something a partner should have to bring up as it is her personal and basic well-being. I feel it’s weird to have to tell my partner about the importance of keeping her home/room clean. Plus if this basic thing is changed just for the sake of the relationship or because a partner brings it up, similar to her car, would be it be real change? Two, tactfully I mention it all the time: “the trash is getting full, you guys should do the dishes more often I don’t want y’all to get pests, I think you should throw out the food in that Tupperware in fridge being it’s been in there for a few months, etc
some understanding
She works too jobs, one at a daycare and another as an aba therapist. She was heavily abused as a child and endures emotional and financial abuse from her sister often. In my opinion, she has every reason to be burnt out and not have the energy to do even basic things sometimes. She does try to be better. Though she has back problems that deter her from being able to do the dishes in one go she has done it here and there. She has cleaned the bathroom, washed her clothes, and keeps bed bed clean. It sounds like I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel here, I know, but I’m saying these things to say ‘I don’t think she’s lazy. I think she’s dealing with more than she can handle externally and internally and it’s affecting how she lives. I see her efforts and I don’t want it to come across as me condescending’. (Therapy would be helpful imo but she lacks the time and desire, she says).
TL;DR: my so has become messier and messier over time. She deals with a lot so I can get not having the energy to always clean but it’s a little crazy at this point. She wants to improve a lot in her life so that leads me to be hopeful but I’ve heard you shouldn’t be with someone for their potential. Perhaps I’m taking this too seriously
What do you think?

Hi all. I'm kind of losing my mind at how long this is taking and I was hoping someone here had advice on what I could do to speed things up? Or get a partial refund? Really, anything. We both worked very hard to save up $60,000 for this deck and it's been 9 months of constant frustration. We feel helpless. We contracted with Lowe's on this because we had such a nightmare time with our house contractors, and we figured Lowe's would handle the logistics for us. Hoooo boy that's not been remotely the case.
Here's a quick overview/timeline of events:
2023
August - Signed a contract with Lowe's for a deck. Just a normal deck. Estimated date of material delivery: early October 2023. Estimated project completion date: October 31, 2023. We were told verbally that these things take time, permits take a while to be reviewed, etc., and that we should expect the deck to be completed by end of DecembeJanuary. Cool, that's totally reasonable.
October - Materials are delivered, including the concrete for the posts. When they finally did start this build, there were concerns from the decking company who Lowe's contracted for our project on whether these materials would still be good when they started, but they used them anyway.
November - The designeengineer comes out to build our deck plan. This plan was submitted to the city mid-November.
December - The engineer calls and says he needs to get paid for the deck plan. We are in Mexico and unable to do much, but we call Lowe's to sort it out.
2024
February - A city inspector is at our house for a different thing and he shows us the permit that was submitted in November still required a $400 plan review fee. Again, this is something we assumed(????) Lowe's would be on top of. They act confused for the next month about who is supposed to pay for this (take it out of the $60,000 we gave you?????). Eventually someone pays for it. Not sure who.
March - Work starts. The company Lowe's hired spends about two weeks working. They are unable to continue work because Lowe's/the supplier sent vertical railings instead of the horizontal deck railing we ordered. The company Lowe's hired stops work and then stops responding.
April - Lowe's lets us know that they've removed that original contractor and have replaced them with someone new. Great. Turns out the rails are on back-order. Could be weeks until they arrive.
May - The correct rails arrive and the new contractor puts up two (2) for the inspector to check. Turns out the previous company did a terrible job on one set of stairs, missed a couple safety requirements on the deck itself, and made several accidental over-cuts into the Trex wood.
As of May 19 - We are still waiting on a re-order of replacement materials for the fixes listed above.
Again, I don't mean to be dramatic. There are people with real problems, I know. But we purchased a deck nearly a FULL YEAR AGO from a MAJOR HOME IMPROVEMENT COMPANY and it's still not built.
Does anyone have advice on what kind of recourse we have? Next steps? Hail Marys?

Sionia
Chapter 14
Map First Previous
“Lord Wyatt, you are needed” Called Lars that shook me out of my fascinating reading about dragon neuts.
“Yes.” I said as I pulled back the curtain.
“The city guard requests to speak with you. They are restricting entrance to Avalon given the latest attack by Mardor at Black Gate of Rowan.” Lars explained with a salute and chest bump
With a sigh, I handed my book to Gus and exited the carriage and was very impressed with the massive three story gatehouse and huge stone block readouts connected on each side. I was met by a forty something looking man of average build with black hair and dark eyes flanked by six fully fitted out soldiers.
“I am Rhys Redith captain of the guard here in Avalon. You must be Count Ryan Wyatt.” Rhys introduced himself with the question.
“Yes, I am Ryan Wyatt.” I responded with a frown and knotted brow.
“We have been expecting your arrival. The king has ordered us to assist you and provide hospitality. I am to escort you to the fortress and the rest of your party to Duggan's inn.” Said Rhys with a salute and formal bow.
“That will not do! I have several wards under my care which several are nobility.” I objected to the plan given.
“I was not aware. I will of course take you to the fortress where Lady Ludmilla will address your concerns.” Replied Rhys with a salute and bow then motioned for me to follow.
“Follow him, Jace .” I said to my new driver and climbed into the carriage.
The bridge over the north side of the Paradise River to the island of Avalon was very long at around a quarter mile or so. The readouts of the gatehouse extended a good ways into the river which had several firing positions. I suspected that the river rose and fell with a possible rainy and dry season which was why the readouts could prevent an army from getting behind the gatehouse or access to the bridge from land. The island side gatehouse was flush with the city walls and protruded into the river was equally as impressive with a descent sized recessed portico and draw bridge porch extension.
Thinking back to my travels through Europe, I decided Avalon looked like the city of East Looe, Cornwall in England but not as topographically elevated and with more renaissance style architecture than back on earth. The Roman style arched bridge was very much what we just rode across. The fortress of Avalon itself was at the highest point which was off to the left on the far east side of the island and most up stream point on the islands.
The Fortress keep was decent but still half the size of Duke Boasag's Buanna. I realized that the reason for putting my servants at an inn was because of the lack of space. However, I was determined to stay with my wards no matter the violation of etiquette it might cause. As my carriage pulled up to the entrance with the fortress that had both iron gates and metal reinforced wooden doors that were a good six feet wide and twelve feet tall each. These doors were set into no less than a three foot thick wall.
Passing through the gate was a small bricked paved courtyard that was about forty to fifty feet wide in a more or less oval shape. I saw a host of servants and two well dressed ladies waiting at the main doors to the fortress's central keep.
“Lord Wyatt, welcome to Avalon. I am Viscountess Ludmilla Skafhoggr and this is my mother Baroness Grogda Wode.” Stated a quiet plump pretty faced brown haired woman in a gaudy yellow with purple accented dress with unicorns all over it and a matching unicorn hat whose horn protruded a good foot from her forehead.
“Yes, it is a very deep pleasure to meet you as well.” Stated Lady Grogda a good looking woman who seemed to be in her mid to late thirties with black hair and unusual olive colored eyes. Her lite brown dress was quiet plain compared to her daughter's which was kind of comical in their contrast.
“The pleasure is mine for sure in meeting you ladies.” I said pouring it on a bit thick with a formal bow and sweep of my arm.
“I do not understand. Why are all your people with you?” Lady Ludmilla asked looking toward Captain Rhys but speaking to me.
“I have many wards under my protection. Thus, it is impossible to leave them alone without my presence as there are many who would try and take advantage of helpless young girls.” I stated but that failed miserably when Freya and the other three Asgardians approached fully armed with their swords.
“I would hardly call them helpless!” Spat Lady Grogda with a bit of contempt as the Asgardians were better looking than her.
“Despite appearances, they need my protection. After all, I am their guardian as I freed them from captivity.” I responded with a bit of admonishment in my voice.
“Yes, we have heard the tale. You are quiet the knight in shinning armor.” Lady Ludmilla said with obvious sarcasm.
“It is what it is. The wards will be with me wherever I am. If that is at an inn or camping on the side of the road, so bit it.” I stated with irritation.
“Do not be silly. We can host your wards and personal attendant. However, we must insist that the rest stay in the inn over there.” Lady Ludmilla said pointing to a three story building that was about fifty yards away.
“That is closer than expected. However, I accept. My people can stay at the inn while you host me and my wards.” I stated with another formal bow.
“Good, now come and we will see to your comfort.” Lady Ludmilla said with a bit of a laugh with Lady Grogda giving a small laugh and a wicked grin.
I immediately turned to Lars, Razor and Meowth and ordered that they maintain a watch on the carts and carriage around the clock as I did not want any lapse where someone would try to take advantage. I called to the wolf kin brothers to continue to protect the girls inside the fortress. Pointing to Lars, I told him to take our prisoner Andros to the adventure's guild office and turn him over and letting them know he was caught trying to steal from me. Let them know I will see them on morrow to see if Andros was telling the truth or just lying. Turning with a smile and motioned to Freya and the girls to follow me with Gus right behind me.
The inside of the fortress was decently furnished though it had more of the appearance of a military outpost than a holding of wealth as it looked quiet spartan. I was led to an upper chamber where Lady Grogda had already ordered a bath filled by the time we had arrived.
“I will see to you personally” Lady Grogda stated with that same wicked grin again.
I suddenly felt as though I was a piece of meat put on display before a hungry wolf. I steeled myself to not recoil as I just felt off with this lady.
“See to your master's baggage.” Lady Grogda ordered Gus who was surprised by the command.
Gus gave me a slight shaking of his head and left the chamber. Lady Grogda then proceeded to strip me with efficiency. Once I was naked, she suddenly took her time looking at my nakedness. She even traced my scars on my back with a click of her tongue. Walking over to the tub, I climbed in and sat down.
“Spoil sport” Said Lady Grogda as she grabbed a wash cloth.
“Do not get my wounds wet.” I said warning Lady Groda of what the doctor had told me.
“Why? Your wound is almost well healed. The stitches can be pulled out except here” Stated Grogda and tapped me on my left shoulder blade.
“I have been using a special salve from the high elves. I did not realize it was healing that fast. However, I was warned that getting my wound wet would effect my healing.” I repeated what Doctor Zalzwarth told me.
“Very well.” Groda conceded.
Lady Grogda began washing me where she was absolutely taking her time. It was obvious that she was deliberately feeling me up for her own pleasure. When she grasped my manhood. I stood up and said, “The water is cold and I am tired and hungry!”
“Humph” Pouted Lady Grogda her displeasure but began to rinse me.
Just as I was stepping out of the tub, Gus entered slightly out of breath as he had run to get my clothes with Lukas my footman helping. I sighed with relief as Gus helped me don my dressing gown.
“Old Maude will be here momentarily to apply your salve.” Gus said with a salute.
“Very good.” I replied to Gus then turned to Lady Grogda and said, “I was told you are a Dowager Baroness. Is that not so?” I blatantly asked appearing as innocent as I could.
“I will see you at the dinner bell hour.” Lady Groda said with a sort of half wave salute and stormed out of the chamber in a huff.
“Thank you, Gus. I actually thought I would have to literally fight to save my personal honor.” I remarked with a laugh.
“It was my pleasure, Lord Wyatt.” Gus responded and joined me in laughing.
Old Maude came about twenty minutes later and applied my salve and chatted about how excited she was to be in Avalon and wanting to visit one of the apothecary shops. I gave her permission but have one of the guards accompany her.
About an hour later and I was fully shaven and dressed, I heard a large bell ringing from a bell tower not far away from my chamber. With that, I headed down to the great hall that was just off the main entrance way. I was met by Lady Ludmilla who escorted me to Viscount Skafhoggr chair where she seated herself to my left. Lady Grogda appeared wearing a new pink dress and seated herself to my right. The one missing was the Viscount.
“Where is Lord Skafhoggr?” I asked Lady Ludmilla with a raised eyebrow.
“He is meeting with one of the military commanders. I believe they are deciding on how large a levy they must raise to battle the bastards of Mardor.” Replied Lady Ludmilla as she clapped her hands for servants to begin serving the evening meal.
Four exhausting hours later, I was back in my chamber with my nerves completely shot. The constant fawning and mindless chatter from Lady Ludmilla as well as the constant groping from Lady Grogda under the table had stained me to the max. I was ready for bed and was glad to sink into the lavender scented sheets. Gus grabbed a thin pallet and two blankets. Blowing out the candles he stepped into the hallway closing the door behind him. He would outside my door as custom demands while traveling.
A little over a half an hour later after Gus left, the door opened and closed quickly. I could not see in the darkness but relaxed when Freya spoke softly and slipped into bed with me. Freya did her magic on me as she mounted me taking me to new heights of pleasure. I quickly forgot all about the overly eager pursuit of the Dowager Baroness as I shared the pleasures of being with Freya. After we had sated ourselves completely, we slept peacefully in a loving embrace.
The morning came with a knock on my door that woke both Freya and I. I moaned but Freya nudged me on the chin.
“Time to wake you lazy bones.” Freya said with a laugh.
“I am not a morning person.” I said with a groan.
“Don't I know it! You were quiet the beast were you not?” Freya teased then laughed at me.
The knock on the door was more instant as I rose and put on my dressing gown. Opening the door slightly was Gus and the Dowager Baroness.
“It is early, what is it?” I asked.
“We have prepared a very special meal for you this morning.” Said Lady Grogda with a frown while she tried to look around me into the chamber.
“I see. Well, give me some time to properly dress and I will be down shortly.” I stated and continued to Gus “Have Lukas bring my shaving kit.”
“Right away, Lord Wyatt.” Gus said as he motioned down the hall where I assumed Lukas was.
About forty five minutes later and having snuck Freya out of my chamber, I was fully shaved and dressed in my dark red outfit and black beret hat that actually looked really good on me. Upon entering the great hall, I saw Lady Ludmilla seated. Lady Grogda taking me by the arm led me again to the Viscount's chair where she seated herself next to me.
“Where is Lord Skafhoggr, Lady Ludmilla?” I asked her directly.
Lady Ludmilla was quiet for a moment then said, “I guess he is sleeping. The meetings with the military commanders drag on for hours and hours. I hardly ever see him these days.” Lady Ludmilla said with a shrug of her shoulders.
“Is that so. Very well as it can not be helped. Please send my regards to Lord Skafhoggr for his hospitality. I was informed that the king would have a messages for me that Lord Skafhoggr was to give me. Could you ask Lord Skafhoggr for them?” I asked as I suspected something was just not right.
“Oh. Ah. I will of course ask my Lord Vincent for the king's message once morning meal is finished.” Lady Ludmilla said and looked discombobulated.
“I see. Please do so. The king ordered me to arrive in Camelot immediately. I can not dally and spend extra time as I normally would do. I hope you understand.” I said making extra emphasis on the king's order part.
“Yes. What the king commands we all must obey.” Lady Ludmillas said sourly but not looking at me.
Lady Ludmilla then clapped her hands and the servants brought in the morning meal. What surprised me was my meal was different from everyone else. Looking at both Lady Ludmilla and Lady Grogda something in the back on my head screamed warning warning.
The silver plate before me was a type of stew with a strong overpowering spice scent. I frowned and began to think hard and fast.
“This is a specialty from the High Valley region. I hope you like it.” Lady Grogda said with no expression at all.
My alarm bells went off even stronger this time. A footman came over to fill my cup which I deliberately knocked over and profusely apologized for my clumsiness.
“You know, I am from the High Valley region too. I have never been a fan of overly spiced foods. Lets see how spicy it is.” I stated and took a scoop with a spoon and handed it to the footman to taste.
The footman was surprised but more than happy to taste the food as it was obvious that food for the staff was very plain and simple.
“You should not do that! It is not right!” Lady Grogda said as she stood up showing more alarm than outrage.
The footman had already consumed the sample where he at first looked like he liked it. However, he suddenly started to choke as his face turned bright red and falling to his knees. Lady Ludmilla stood up in horror as the footman was gagging begging for water. I handed him my silver chalice with what I assumed was apple cider where he chugged it down then begged for more.
Finally, after three more cups of water given by another footman, first footman just lay on his back almost in a stupor. It was as if his mind was blank.
“What is this?” I asked as I pointed to my meal looking at both Lady Ludmilla and Lady Grogda.
“I do not know!” Said Lady Ludmilla looking at her mother with a strange look.
“Do not give me that! What did you do?” I demanded with a my voiced raised and now pointing my finger at them.
“It was a love potion. It was to make you like me.” Said Lady Grogda meekly and looking sheepishly at the ground.
“Seriously! That was more than a simple love potion!” I yelled my outrage.
“I swear that is all it was. I had to hide its not so pleasant taste with spice.” Lady Grogda stated her defense but still not able to look me in the eye.
“Lady Ludmilla, I must now ask that you bring me the king's message as I am now leaving Avalon.” I commanded with rage in my countenance.
Lady Ludmilla fled the great hall without replying. Lady Grogda just sat down with her head down looking at the floor saying nothing.
With exasperation, I called out to my people. “House of Wyatt, Ladies and girls we are leaving! Quickly gather your things and be out front within a little span!”
With that, I stormed out of the great hall to the shock of all present. Up in the guest chamber, I changed clothes into my bluejeans, a blue shirt and a tan leather vest. Pulling on my boots and strapping on my weapons belt, I looked over seeing Gus and Lukas already packed up my discarded clothing and was ready to leave as they were staying clear of my angry outbursts.
Down at the carts, I ordered my guards to ready themselves to leave. I sent Lukas to call all the servants in the inn to be ready to leave immediately. Razor and Meowth jumped down from their perch on the first two carriages with questioning looks.
“They tried to poison me! Can you believe it?” I said angrily as I swept my arm to point at the fortress.
“Meow Lord Wyatt, that is clawful. Do you want meow to use them like a scratching post?” Asked Meowth as her tail went straight in what I assumed was either surprise or anger.
Razor just gave a low grumbling growl with teeth bared as he looked at the fortress.
Forty minutes later as my people were loading up, Lady Ludmilla approached with her head down.
“I am sorry Lord Wyatt. It seems you do not have any messages from the king.” Lady Ludmilla said never once looking me in the eye.
“I see. Send a message to the king that I left Avalon today and as commanded traveling as quickly as I can. The king is expecting my update so make sure it is properly sent!” I said with a warning.
I ordered a florse saddled for I needed fresh air as I was still furious. I actually led our people out and toward the main north south road which Nick panicked a bit and settled with riding next to me. As we approached the main crossroads of the city, I saw a large dinning hall and ordered a halt for all of our people to have breakfast. The meal consisted of roasted mutton, eggs, apple pancakes and apple jam. They also had fresh chilled milk and apple cider which really went well with the sweet dishes. Our group apparently cleaned them out and they had to turn away a few customers until mid day.
After breakfast, I went to the adventurer's guild that was a few buildings to the south. It was a four story building of decent size. I allowed Old Maude with a one of the house guards to go to the apothecary shop across the road along with the two Alphardian servants Aura and Sylvia. Inside the adventurer's guild, I asked for Marine as instructed. It was then I learned that Marine was Zack Talley's girl where they were to marry soon as she proudly let me know her good news.
“Zack said to tell you this is a level one escort. Whatever that means.” I repeated what Zack had told me to say.
“Thank you. It simply means Zack thinks there would be no problems and just being present is enough to discourage any potential thieves. The total is two hundred fifty denari for basic escort with an A ranked adventurer.” Marine said with a smile
After paying the fee for the job request, I asked Marine to speak to someone about Andros that was brought in by man guard Lars.
“I am Supervisor Etan Borg and assistant to Guild Master Henry Stewart. It is a pleasure to be at your service Count Wyatt..” Stated Etan with a salute and bow.
“Pleasure is mine.” I replied with a salute and nod of my head.
“We have investigated Andros. His party the Finders of Avalon specialize in retrieving lost items or stolen goods from thieves. It appears his party was specifically requested to recover a lost ventu volpis. We do not have any more details for the job other than this.” Etan stated as he read from a page in his hand.
“Who hired them to steal from me? Make no mistake, they were hired to steal from me!” I said as I was showing my anger and frustration.
“Normally, we would not disclose who posted job requests to those not apart of the contract. However, given the circumstances, I was instructed to tell you it was Viscountess Lady Ludmilla. It seems she contracted and paid a merchant from Xanadu for a ventu volpis. It is our understanding that merchant was placed on a Quenya trade ship where he will go on trial for his many crimes in Svarta. The Finders of Avalon should not have tried to take your ventu volpis. Nor should they have taken on the job given the crimes of the merchant without more information.” Etan explained what the guild knew.
“What will happen to Andros?” I asked frankly.
“The Guild Master will hold a hearing with S and an A ranked members who will advise on the issues. I expect he will be found guilty but will escape the ten year punishment. More like one to two years of labor for the guild doing low ranked jobs that no one wants while being supervised by myself or a C ranked or higher adventurer. His pay will be one third of normal with the rest going to repay the guild or costs associated with his lapse in judgment.” Etan replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
“I see. The thing that irks me is they attacked my people and wounded one of my guards with a slinger's stone.” I explained my outrage.
“I was not aware of this fact. Master Stewart will compensate you as the law requires. Unfortunately, Master Stewart left for Camelot for meeting with the war counsel on Astria's response to the Empire's latest invasion. I will send a filoxis to let Master Stewart know that there was injury, offense and honor requirements. I understand you will be traveling to Camelot and am certain Master Stewart will seek you out to give you a formal apology and see you are properly compensated.” Etan stated with a salute and bow.
“Good enough. Let me know the outcome of the hearing for Andros. I do not like loose ends and a potential enemy looking for revenge.” I said mater of factually.
“Understood. I will relay your concerns to Master Stewart. Etan replied with another salute and bow.
Leaving the adventure's guild, I decided to visit the tradesman's guild and merchant's storefront while Old Maude was still busy across the street. The girls came with me as they had been requesting things like combs, brushes and scented oils plus a few other special feminine items they needed.
Once all the girls got what they were needing and getting those items stowed with their baggage, Old Maude came back with a small crate filled with items to make medicines. While the baggage was being loaded and sorted, I went to see the information broker's desk and inquired about Chamberlain Robert Duffy. I paid the requested fee of one erythro given his status in the city. I was shown a file which listed the qualities, character and known habits of Robert. There was a section about vices and food preferences. The only vice was seeing a woman who was a widow listed as a paid mistress. Basically, Robert was a straight as an arrow honorable man. I smiled as the report made me feel better about who I was helping.
Finally, with everyone loaded up, we headed out of the city of Avalon over the southern main bridge and gate that was just like the north one but slightly longer with a guard tower protected draw bridge section to let ships pass. After about two hours, I had calmed down enough that I rode in the carriage as was expected of a person of rank. I just looked out seeing nothing but the vast wheat fields of the Capital Region realizing how lucky I had been to escape the evils of the ladies of Fortress Avalon.

I (m 29) was meeting my new girlfriends (f 25) girlfriends for the first time today. It was going to just be a chill hand at her friends house. When we got there it was all girls except for me (her former college swim teammates). I didn't mind and did my best to play along / chime in.
Eventually they broke out into some game of truth or dare. They seemed to be having a lot of fun with it and I played at first but then took a break to get some water / go to the bathroom. It was getting kinda sexual and I figured that was a good time to give them their space and come back
When they came back they has clearly been talking about some sexual stuff and I saw my gf do this move with her two hands mimicking sucking a dick...now at this point, for some strange reason, I thought I would make a cheeky comment and decided to say "hey, that's not how you give bjs, tell them about your special move!"
Now for context, when I first received a bj from her she held my penis with just her two fingers. I did not have much experience sexually (was a virgin before I met her) and had only seen blowjobs in porn, so I asked her why she held it like that...and she said it's just her style, so I let it be.
Back to the part and my gf Is just giving me a surprised look, and everyone is now looking at me, egging me on to share her "style"...so I told everyone about the two finger move she does.
The girls went from laughing to looking at each other and whispering and there was some awkwardness in the room.
This was there for the rest of the day until we decided to head out. My gf and I went our separate ways after saying bye at the party... but this has been bugging me so I decided to come on here to get your thoughts.
Reddit, did I fuck up here? Why did they react like that? Was that a rude comment to make?
TL;DR - made a comment about how my gf gives me bjs to her friends and turned an entire party awkward

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'm going into college as a music Ed major. I also want to do some art, and maybe some gigging (using the tablet for sheet music). What is the way to go?
Hi there. As the title says, I need a tablet/laptop, and I'm stuck between 3. Those 3 are the Ipad, the surface pro, or the galaxy tab. There are some factors that are eating me apart for what I should get.
I know I may get hate for this, but I am a lifelong android user. I give Apple props where it's due, and that is they've made an amazing tablet, so much so that it's enticing for even me. But there's one problem to start, the compatibility between my phone and Ipad could become a problem. I don't know exactly how much of a problem, as files can just be sent via email but it still concerns me. I know this is a great choice for art as well. This is also a more expensive option, especially after the keyboard and pen.
The surface pro could be real good to, but to get a more decent system that will last longer is crazy expensive. Microsoft also has good art apps that would be put to good use. This is my "safest" option, but also the most expensive if I want 16 GB of RAM, keyboard, and the pen (which is required for me)
The Galaxy Tab would be low cost and already comes with the keyboard (Tab 9 FE). Might not be as great for art as they're not as known for that area, but I'm sure I'd figure it out, I know there's something I could use.
Now, being a clueless music Ed major, what would y'all recommend? Open mindedness would be appreciated, I hope no controversy comes of this. If anyone figures out a better plan to any of these, let me know! I like to think I'm at least a little open minded.

I have moved from my small home town to a city and left my partner and my dog whom I really love. We have been together for 3 years. (I’m 22 he is 27) I’m now living with my brother and his missus in Sydney. They kindly let me live in their spare bedroom. I wanted to leave my home town because I wanted to be closer with family (my family lives here except for my dad) as well as seeing what it is like to live away from my home town, I got kind of sick of living in my home town and just wanted to spread my wings a little. I just had this itch to do so. Just needed a change. Maybe try and find myself a career or a job that’s not cleaning. I felt like it would be good for my self confidence. I was unemployed for the first month but then finally got a job as a Dental Assistant trainee. I’ve only been working since middle of March. It is a 45 min drive to and from work and I’m only getting paid $23/hr 3-4 days a week. It’s actually such a shit job tbh with you. I’m really struggling with it all financially, I just got my car serviced and there’s like 10 things wrong with it and if I get it fixed I will be paying more than what it’s worth. On top of that I feel so stressed more than ever living here in sydney. The more I live here the more I hate it. I’m depressed as well. I don’t know what I want to do as a career, I am lost. I have no direction in life or passion for anything. People my age have already completed their uni degree and are making 6 figures. Thinking about moving back in with my boyfriend in my home town but don’t know what that will bring me for my future. He reckons we will put our money together and buy a house? How is that even possible when houses are $1M. I don’t have any skills other than cleaning and working in a fish and chip shop. I’m so hopeless. How would I be able to support him financially as well if I can’t support myself? My family is against me moving back there because they see no future for m in the small town and with that guy. Let’s be honest when I was having fights with him I would go to my sister or brother to vent. And it’s probably made him look like a bad guy. He’s a good guy. Because I vented to them about him, they may be biased if I asked for dating advice. I feel this tug of war between my family and my boyfriend. But I feel like if I would be moving back, it would be out of guilt and a “give up” on myself. He s probably going to be like I told you it wouldn’t work out and you didn’t listen to me. Another huge hit to the self esteem. I have experience childhood trauma with a broken family and it’s like I’m reliving it because I’m torn between people and places. I remember when i was a kid I would feel guilty being with one parent and vice versa. I feel so shit about myself and like a complete failure. I just don’t know what to do. People say that people end up like their parents and my boyfriends dad is very narcissistic and he literally tells you that he is better than everyone and smartest. He’s pretty cluey though. Also a womaniser. I do see a lot of his dad in my boyfriend. My gut is telling me that he’s not the right person to marry. But living here in sydney is giving me so much stress. Maybe I cut ties with everyone and move to another city? But I feel like no matter where I go my depression will follow me. I have no friends or unbiased family to ask advice. Bf is putting a timer on and saying he’s not going to wait for me and just stick around for me to fall back on if things don't work out. that is how he said his feeling. i feel like a terrible partner for making him feel this way. i would be letting down my siblings and family if i go back to my home town and live with him. what is the right thing to do? I have no clue. I’m literally sitting here in my room like a red hot mess.. people would probably think I’m on crack, haven’t slept.

I have a 3 and 9 year old. My nine year old is adhd to the max. The three year old is amazing. I lost my job during the pandemic and have been a full time stay home parent since then. My wife is a doctor and makes good money. The pandemic split most of core friend group up and we decided to move out of state and get a kind of fresh start. We moved to a higher altitude and I developed epilepsy from the altitude and was hospitalized for multiple weeks. My seizures are every three months and I couldn’t drive for three months afterwards. I was totally isolated, wife works all the time, managing a facility and my only companions have been my children. My wife basically only talks about her job, the problems of it and her happy little relationships with coworkers. If I look away during these conversations I’m chastised for not paying attention to her. This is most of our conversations. We have moved back home and are now adjusting being back. My wife took not only one job here but added another one because that’s where she wants to work permanently. She now is working 50-60 hours a week and this is her choice. I get out of bed a couple of times a night to help the three year old get back to bed. I get up around 5:30 to 6 when the youngest gets up. I wake my nine year old up and get him ready for his meds. Meds at seven then to school forty five minutes later. He fights me, screams etc. from sunrise to sundown. It turns me into a total monster. I try to not get frustrated but it’s so exhausting. Meanwhile, my wife is in bed. That’s where she spends nearly every extra minute she has. it does not matter what day it is, when or when not she has to work, she’s in that bed, doom scrolling or watching some trash crime show. It is also becoming quite apparent that she will wait until the oldest is gone and then come out of our room. She for the most part refuses to help around the house because that’s my job. She throws a fit when asked to help with the boys, changing a diaper, go to the grocery give a bath etc. It’s my job. Shes a ghost in our home. I’m constantly belittled because I just sit around the house all day and do nothing. Its very frustrating. I listen to her talk about her things all the time, but am just lazy or complaining if I try and vent. I am always angry, and have been forever. My mother and father were not great parents. My dad died before my children were born. I have gone no contact with my mother. She has expectations that I will fix her life that she’s neglected. She lives 30 minutes away and I have no plans on seeing her until she’s headed under earth. I have my friends here still which is nice. Most have kids, but I can’t take my oldest anywhere around them anymore. He’s destructive, does not listen, yells and screams, talks back. He thinks about nothing before he does it. So here I am, totally isolated again. I am absolutely exhausted by 8pm, but am not allowed to go to bed until the nine year old is asleep. When that’s done, I have to try to sleep with the lights on and a tv show being being played. I ask for it to be quiet, but am just told to go to sleep. She tells me that I should hang out with my friends after he is asleep, but I don’t want to go out when I have to get up at five or earlier. I’ve been drinking too much, beers, and smoking too much reefer, but it feels better to just be on cruise control. I’m not sure what to do. I ask my wife to find some time on her days off to spend some time together but it never really happens. The kid is ruining my life. I don’t know what to do. I get no time alone. If I ask her to watch him for a few hours it’s a fight. I’m so fucking tired. The times I do hang out at my friends house, I just go sit in a room alone for the quiet. Hopefully we can find childcare soon and things will be a little better. I do all of the domestic household stuff as well as, do all the work on our vehicles, mow etc. I am expected to be a plumber, an electrician whatever, and am held responsible for my inadequate ability to do something that I’ve only learned three minutes ago on YouTube. Im constantly called lazy. She has begun to do what feels like me being held financially hostage. She tells me my phone is her phone, my car is her car etc. She tells me the only things I own are a few sentimental things I have. That she owns everything else. I know this isn’t true but its rugged to be told that. I bought a couple of work books to work through my anger issues and she made fun of me for it. I feel like I work hard and give good effort but don’t feel like I’ve done anything right. Thanks for reading my blog post.

Welcome back once more, for our final discussion of Armadale. I apologize again for the discussion being late. Last week, my excuse was that I had to spend time with my sister's family, including a labradoodle. This week, I am dog-sitting my mother's beagle, who has separation anxiety and gas. I am horribly sleep-deprived because this dog insists on sleeping next to my bed every night, snoring loudly and farting. Speaking of people breathing in poison in their sleep, let's get to the recap:
Allan has just set off for the Adriatic, with his cash converted to gold, obviously the result of Manuel's suggestions. Lydia and Ozias have been transferred to Turin by Ozias's employer, and Lydia pretends to have gotten a letter from her mother, asking her to come home, so she has an excuse to go back to London. Once there, she checks the newspaper for any articles or obituaries indicating that Allan has died. She also finds Mother Oldershaw's new address, but decides not to visit her.
After a few days, she finally gets the news she's been hoping for. Allan's yacht sunk off the southern coast of Italy, and everyone on board perished. Her next step is to write to Bashwood:
My dearest Bashwood,
I desire you... I mean, I desire to *meet with you... to apologize for my previous behavior towards you. I have foolishly made the mistake of marrying an immature child. If only I had married a real man (realness not necessarily extending to his teeth and hair)!*
Please, do not show this letter to anyone. Let us meet clandestinely.
Sincerely,
Lydia Armadale (note the last name)
Lydia then considers the marriage certificate, and realizes a glaring flaw in her plan: Ozias's handwriting looks nothing like Allan's. In a panic, she decides that her only option is to get advice from Mother Oldershaw. Unfortunately, Mother Oldershaw appears to have found God, and no longer wants anything to do with Lydia's plans. (Of course, she refuses to give Lydia the signed paper that she was going to use to extort money from Lydia if her plans succeeded.)
While leaving Oldershaw's, Lydia runs into Dr. Downward... excuse me, Dr. Le Doux, totally legitimate sanitarium owner. She realizes that he may be able to advise her, and asks to meet him later at the sanitarium. The sanitarium is basically what you'd expect a 19th-century sanitarium to be: creepy old house with shelves containing jars of preserved "creatures," a "galvanic apparatus" for providing electric shocks, etc. No patients yet, though.
Lydia tells the doctor her story, leaving out the worst details (he doesn't know that she's the reason the yacht sunk, or that her husband goes by the fake name "Ozias Midwinter"). Downward agrees to assist her by claiming to be a witness to the marriage... for a fee of six hundred pounds. Lydia agrees, and he assists her in sending a letter to Thorpe Ambrose, claiming to be Allan's widow.
The next day, Lydia gets a visit from Bashwood, who delivers the news that Neelie is beside herself with grief, and Mr. Darch is handling the matter of the inheritance, which was going to go to Allan's cousin, before Lydia announced her claim.
Bashwood returns a few days later with a shocking letter from Yugoslavia: Allan is alive! This is where I'd normally try to write a funny version of the letter, but nothing I could possibly write would be funnier than the actual letter's opening line: "I have been the victim of a rascally attempt at robbery and murder." Yes, "rascally." Oh, Allan, never change. One of the would-be murderers took pity on Allan and didn't securely board up his cabin, so he was able to escape instead of sinking with the yacht.
Lydia turns to Downward for help.
Downward: What if we trap Allan in the sanitarium?
Lydia: And murder him?
Downward: WTF, no. We get him to agree to not press legal charges against us.
Lydia: And then we murder him?
Downward: I have so many regrets about teaming up with you
Lydia: How do we catch him?
Downward: You could get Bashwood to lurk around the train station and intercept him before anyone else sees him. Have him tell Allan that Miss Milroy was sent here because she was driven insane by her grief for him.
Lydia: Can we murder Allan and Miss Milroy?
Downward: I am running an unlicensed sanitarium under a false name, and even I think you're unhinged.
Lydia: Gwilty as charged
Downward: But wait, what if he doesn't agree immediately, and we have to keep him here for months? What if I have actual patients at the time, and they report us?
Lydia: What if...
Downward: ...please don't say "murder"
Lydia: ...what if he had an accident?
Downward: Oh. Well, if it was an "accident," that would be okay. I don't know how an accident could happen, though, if you aren't an inmate here.
Lydia: I'll think about it
Meanwhile, Bashwood keeps vigil at the train station, until one day he sees... Ozias, who is searching for Lydia because she's stopped writing to him. While they talk to each other, Bashwood can't contain his shock at hearing that Lydia is Ozias's wife, and accidentally calls her "Mrs. Armadale," which understandably makes Ozias suspicious, so he follows Bashwood to see where he goes, which of course leads him straight to Lydia. Lydia pretends she was never married to Ozias, and Ozias faints from the shock.
Lydia heads straight to the sanitarium, tells Downward she's going to be an inmate, and asks for a sleeping draught. Downward prepares the draught, but first places yellow liquid in a purple flask. He then informs Lydia of what he thinks they should say at the inquest after Allan dies: The two of them knew he hadn't drowned, but when he arrived in England, they decided to trap him in the sanitarium because, shortly after his marriage to Lydia, Allan had starting having a delusion that he was engaged to Neelie. Once in the sanitarium, Downward diagnosed Allan with an incurable and fatal brain ailment, and that's what killed him.
Downward has scheduled a "Visitors' Day" so that people will witness Lydia as an inmate in the asylum. The visitors are mostly women, because life as a woman in Victorian England was so boring, they had nothing better to do than go to sanitariums to gawk at the mentally ill people and see where they will eventually live when the hysteria finally drives them mad. (I am only barely paraphrasing. The actual quote is "In the miserable monotony of the lives led by a large section of the middle classes of England, anything is welcome to the women which offers them any sort of harmless refuge from the established tyranny of the principle that all human happiness begins and ends at home.")
Downward shows them around the sanitarium and explains how it will be run, including only allowing novels that make people feel comfortable. (I assumed this was an intentional satire of Wilkie's critics, and the notes in the Oxford World's Classics edition confirmed this.)
But then Downward gave a sales pitch that damn near sold me on his sanitarium. "I throw up impregnable moral intrenchments between Worry and You. ... Will ten minutes’ irritation from a barking dog or a screeching child undo every atom of good done to a nervous sufferer by a month’s medical treatment? There isn’t a competent doctor in England who will venture to deny it!" Considering I almost couldn't post last week's discussion because of a few hours' exposure to two loud children and a labradoodle, I'm about ready to self-diagnose with hysteria and deranged lunacy.
He also explains that while the bedrooms lack fireplaces, they're heated with hot water. This impressed me because I've read about Victorian insane asylums not having fireplaces in the bedrooms (since the inmates might burn themselves), but I always assumed this meant that the inmates were cold in the winter. But wait... the bedroom also has secret controls that let him open, close, and lock the window and door from the outside, and a vent that lets him pump gas into the room. Whaaat? I rescind my diagnosis of hysteria and deranged lunacy. I want nothing to do with this.
After the tour is finished, Downward demonstrates to Lydia how to prepare the poison, and then breaks the bottle so that his assistant (who doesn't know about the purple flask) will think there's no more of that chemical in the house.
Meanwhile, Ozias is stalking Bashwood at the train station. He thinks Lydia is cheating on him, and Bashwood is waiting for Lydia's lover. But then he sees Bashwood with Allan. After confronting the two of them, he learns Bashwood's story about having to take Allan to Neelie in the sanitarium. Realizing that Lydia is probably still behind Bashwood's actions, Ozias insists on going with the two of them. On arriving at the sanitarium, Allan is informed that Neelie cannot see him until the morning, but he and Ozias are welcome to spend the night: Allan in Room Four, and Ozias in Room Three.
Lydia sets Bashwood up to spy on Allan's door from a room with a grate in its door. She tells him to make sure Allan stays in his room all night. Later, watching from the grate, Bashwood observes Ozias leave his room and examine the fumigating apparatus connected to Allan's room. Then Ozias stuffs his handkerchief in the grate, blocking Bashwood's view, before going into Allan's room and convincing Allan to switch rooms with him.
Later that night, Lydia returns and asks Bashwood if anything happened. Too afraid to tell her about the handkerchief, he tells her nothing happened, and she dismisses him to bed. After almost convincing herself to not go through with it, she then starts the process of pouring the poison at five minute intervals. While waiting for one of the intervals to pass, she notices Ozias's handkerchief and realizes that Bashwood lied to her. She checks in Room Three, and finds Allan asleep where Ozias should be.
In a panic, Lydia rushes into Room Four and drags the unconscious Ozias out. She then continues to pour the poison, writes a last letter to Ozias, and locks herself in the room.
We end with an epilogue that rapidly ties up all the random loose ends. Lydia has been buried in a nearly unmarked grave. The doctor is apparently still running his sanitarium. Allan and Neelie will be married in the spring. Mrs. Milroy doesn't have much longer to live, but she's undergone a personality change for some reason and she and the Major are happy for once. Ozias is recovering and living with Allan. Mother Oldershaw is a religious speaker, apparently. Bashwood has gone insane. Manuel drowned.
But wait, one last thing: Wilkie has something to say to us. He wants us to know that he intended the dream to be left up to interpretation. Thanks for handing me a discussion question like that, Wilkie. He also shares a weird-ass story about how, after he'd finished the rough draft and while the story was in the middle of serialization, several people were poisoned in their sleep on a boat called The Armadale. Okay, Wilkie. Thank you for that incredibly weird anecdote.