I am a 1st gen full blooded hmong in USA. My parents immigrated from Thailand in the 1980s. They were both born in Laos and were refugees.
My son is half hmong. I decided to take a test on him instead of me so we can know both the parents origin. We went with crigentics so we can have access to health along with ancestry.
The results came back. Cri genetics has an interesting way to display. Recent ancestry(past 5 generation) and advance(older than 5 generations. Maybe couple thousand years)
Recent: 41% east asian Dai chinese: 11% Southern han: 9.2% Northern han: 9% Vietnamese: 5.8%
Advance: 35% east asian Dai chinese: 12% Vietnamese: 9% Japanese: 8.6% Southern han: 6.5% Northern han: 5.3%
I think I have my own scientific theory but I would like some explaining if anyone can.
I see that alot of hmong people test and get Dai, south & north han, Vietnamese quite regularly. Those are common. I am confused about Japanese
Also, crigenetics show recent and advance. Recently, I seem to have been more northern hans than Vietnamese. Evidently, Southern han and Vietnamese don't have alot of difference in their dna though considering most modern Vietnamese are descended from Southern hans so I'm not sure why I have less Vietnamese recently than hans. I boiled it down to one conclusion.
Crigenetics probably doesn't have alot the dna of other south east asian groups. Most of those countries probably blend their genetics alot in the past so its hard to distinguish between the differences of Vietnamese, Laos, Thai, etc. They probably have more Vietnamese taking their dna test. So if they get samples of more dna that are found in that region, they group it there. I even read the Vietnamese category. They tell a brief history of the ethnic group, they give a list of country where the genes are found and it listed: laos, Cambodia, Malaysia, Taiwan, Macau. So they are estimating that anyone who tested Vietnamese can be from any of the country. This gives me the assumption that I am not necessarily mainland Vietnamese but just ethnic minority commonly found in Vietnam.
As I said earlier, I don't get why if modern Vietnamese have alot of southern Chinese dna, why is the recent sample more hans, but less Vietnamese? I guess they know the difference between modern and ancient vietnamese?
If I had more Vietnamese but less hans dna thousands of years ago, then my ancestors who used to inhabit that region were distinct from modern veit.
The Dai part is pretty straight forward. They inhabited a large territory in Yunnan to Myanmar and many chinese minority lived there. I do think most genetic test only know the Dai group and not the other ethnic tribes. If they find other hill tribes in you, they just label you as dai. I will have to retry a company that has 56 ethnic.
I believe the northern hans might have been from the manchu people who ruled over a good part of the southern states for an extended period even up until the hmong migrated into south east asia.
I'm not sure about Japanese. It doesn't show up in recent dna. Only advance. So we can throw away the WW2 era. I have a few theories

1. The chinese, Korean, and mainland Japanese shared an ancestor. The Japanese who migrated to Japan came near the Korea and China area. They probably share similar dna. This probably happened 3-4 thousand years ago. Some of Our ancestors dispersed from there. But if that's the case, then the northern hans part I have wasn't recent but may be from that region too.
   
2. Some Japanese show results of south east asian. Ancient Japanese probably had contacts or share something with south east asians. Japanese does have some similarity in linguistic with austronesians, who migrated from south china/south east asia. The problem is not a whole lot south east asians test for Japanese.
   
3. This is a mixture of my 1st two theory. But goes back even farther. It was said that the early sino tibet derived from northeast near Beijing area as early hunter gathers and farmers some 7 thousand years ago. The early east asians prior to modern chinese must have been darker skin people that diverged or intermixed into different regions(korea, Japan, central & south china, west tibet, myanmar south east asia). Maybe that's why some south east asians still have Japanese test results. Going back far in time, most east asians were alot more similar in culture and looks. If this is the case, this is a dam long time ago during stone age and hunting gather.
   

Edit: So that last paragraph has made me researched alot. Going back in time, alot of east asians had more traits and culture in common due to hunting gathering lifestyle although not as homogenous as East asian countries like it is now. I found out most early proto chinese settlers in Central, south and even north were darker skinned resembling that of south east asian, pacific islanders. Which means that southern part of China even up to central was likely inhabited by ancient khmr l, thai, burmese, or viet(not the exact same people today). They probably intermixed alot of culture. The northern tribes probably migrated downward and mixed and traded ideas and culture and it happened for thousands of years until the newer gene pool hans chinese took over. This explains why some tibet burmese tribes(part of sino tibet from the north) like naga, zaiwa, Dai have similarity with some austro asiatic or austronesian tribes who were already existing in Yunnan, Myanmar and Vietnam when the tibeto burmese came. They both had body paint, totems, similar embroidery, wore animal part as clothing, Ancestral worship. These practices even expanded far out to pacific, Siberia and Japan.
Sorry for the long rant. If anyone can give more thoughts that'd be nice. FYI his mom isn't asian so there is no way the test would confuse the paternal and maternal.

Today's map: Comunidad de Madrid by Alejovisia (★★★ / 1k+)

Link to the challenge here Deadline: June 6, 12.50 am UTC (2.50 am in Madrid)
Hello! Our last map this week brings us to Spain. I drew a map featuring Comunidad de Madrid, which is the administrative division centered on the country's capital. Despite its relatively small size, this area is quite diverse: there's the large city right in the middle of it, a "ring" of sprawling suburbs, but after those it gets rural and empty pretty quickly. No photospheres, good luck!
The results for the past three games:

• Milyly was the only top scorer on Thursday's Belgian challenge, an easy seed overall but a tough pinpoint in the second round played a key role.
• In Friday's Urban World challenge, there were three perfect scores from giorgeauws_, gobluetwo and solarsensei.
• Last but not least, the perfect scores in yesterday's "American Horror Story"-themed challenge were four: well done to MDspaceman, Milyly, ParticularAirport217 and solarsensei.

To wrap up, solarsensei has a safe cushion in the weekly rankings, and they are also the early leaders in the June classification alongside Milyly.
always remember to post your score in this thread if you want it to count towards the leaderboards!
Weekly leaderboard (May 29 - June 4)

solarsensei	4	1	0
giorgeauws_	2	2	1
gobluetwo	2	1	1
fbrasseur	2	1	0
MDspaceman	2	0	1
Milyly	2	0	0
exohugh	1	1	0
ParticularAirport217	1	0	1
Davey1473	1	0	0
GeoFogg	1	0	0
rtlewis123	0	0	1

Monthly leaderboard (June)

Milyly	2	0	0
solarsensei	2	0	0
giorgeauws_	1	1	1
gobluetwo	1	1	0
MDspaceman	1	0	0
fbrasseur	0	1	0
ParticularAirport217	1	0	1

Recent winners

May 28	UK Railway Level Crossings	giorgeauws_	25000
May 29	South Carolina	solarsensei	24312
May 30	Costa Coffee's	Davey1473, fbrasseur, GeoFogg, giorgeauws_, gobluetwo, MDspaceman, solarsensei	25000
May 31	Japan Toyama 富山県 NIIKAWA 新川広域圏	exohugh, fbrasseur	25000
June 1	Province du Luxembourg [Belgique/Belgium]	Milyly	25000
June 2	An Urban World Nick Edition	giorgeauws_, gobluetwo, solarsensei	25000
June 3	American Horror Story Filming Locations	MDspaceman, Milyly, ParticularAirport217, solarsensei	25000

Disclaimer: While my experiences may sound positive, they are my own and I do stand with the people who feel like they got robbed from. The event could have been handled better and I wish they did. What im writing is my experiences as my first properly planned convention as i attended 3 previous Ozine Conventions by accident.
The day before going to conquest i already set my expectations in check and already expected a shit show at some point because this is a national level event and i had to prepare and think how i can not be waiting in lines. I didn't want to meet a lot of people in the event, only a small handful but i just wanted to roam and experience it, so here are my experiences
Day 1: The Ideal Day
I woke up relatively early and already went out early for breakfast, i got to a bus going to Moa at around 7am and arrived there around 45 minutes later, me and another person where gonna get our passes for the whole 3 days, the lines werent bad and were great, they flowed well and the area was roamable. I managed to check all the booths from the first and second floor and just enjoyed it. This Day in particular was deemed as a great day by many because of how little people there were compared to Day 2 and 3 which i aggree with, the amount was perfect and sufficient and i just knew looking at the amount of people today and with day 2 being sold out that i had to be quick for the next day. Food was also stupid expensive and just really limited what i can do with my set budget to which i kept on raising for every sequential day annoyingly. I left at around 4:30 and went back to where im staying and just rested for the next day
Day 2: The Shit Show
I woke up a bit later than Day 1 but i got up to speed pretty quick i arrived the day the same time i did as Day 1 but this time i had my Passes for the whole event, when we got there, no official line was made and people kept queing up behind eachother creating an unofficial line, i took advantage of this and kept positioning myself near the front and was just 30 feet from the entrance, it may sound shitty but i just took advantage of that rule. We got in the building a bit earlier and i just roamed around went to day fan meet and greets in Smx and just played board games, it was fun and just calming to just relax when your just walking around, i got out the main hall to get food in the second floor and to my fear a line had form going to the 2nd floor hall, i said to myself, im gonna get food and think about it later, i did so and just waited in line annoyingly but i said to myself "could be worse" (big mistake) i got in and i watched the keyboard making class a bit and roamed again, i saw some merch and after a while i decided to go to the first floor and i was shocked seeing there was even a line going up the second floor i got mildly infuriated with that but with that many people i cant blame em. I went to the first floor and played dirt rally lmao i got off a bit and decided to go back up, i didng wanna wait in line just to go up so i remembered there were escalators at the sides and took them and to my surprise they were clear, got back up in and lined up again and just stayed a bitz i got a bit tired and was gasping for air so i left at 4pm although not looking outside and i remember just being shocked and scared with the amount of people waiting in the lines and when i heard the message that the building was full i just gave a sign of disappointment. If getting in the building was a pain, getting out was the hard part, the entrances were clpgged and i squeezed myself out just to leave the place, i got into a bus and called it a day
Day 3: The Patch Job
A day before the last day i was reading their socials and the community page and saw that they are converting day 2 passes to 3 for some and i realized that the same might happen to day 3 and left an hour earlier, got to a bus and arrived almost being 7am in moa, this js when there was a line of people in the side and since there was no official line yet i took advantage of that as well and got even nearer to front. I wanted to meet Spicyuu but i realized that the claiming of stubs was at the atrium and i wuickly realized that i have to fall in line again and the chances of me getting a stub was low so i decided to not ho to the atrium and just stayed in smx for the whole time. I never went to Conrad for the 3 days out of fear i wont get back in as easily. Since they are opening an hour later my decision leaving earlier worked in my favor, i got in and my main objective was just to get alot of things as gifts to my siblings as the next day i was going back to my home province. At 12 30 i blown half of my budget already and got something to eat. I was surprised that the lining for second floor halls was removed and that was nice for once i also saw the planning they did albeit inconsistent to a degree but it was a patch job at best so i cant give much. I got food, got in and ate my lunch on the floor, after that i roamed again and decided to play the games made by creators, a really fun experience, i purposely didnt go to the first floor as i know getting back up would be a pain in the ass and i just put it last on my to do list, i roamed here and met some people there it was fun but a bit expensive and just got freebies instead. I left at 4pm and weng to moa just to find a place to seat, as i was roaming alot of cosplayers and event goers where around the mall as well and after that i went home with my friend who didnt go to the event and just ate dinner somewhere else as moa was packed with people.
Epilogue
Conquest 23 was half assed at best but coming from a university who specializes in being half assed and living in a country that barely meets the bare minimum, it isnt surprising, The premium pass holders and the vendors situated outside where the most who felt they were done dirty, for day 3 no once was buying food outside out of fear of waiting in lines for so long. And the stalls inside were told not to sell anymore ao they can divert people outside which was fucking wrong. My experiences were okay and enjoyable as i just kept my expectations in check and with me as well as the majority being first time con goers as well, its sad since the organizers hyped this event alot but failed in accomodating everyone. For me both failed but majority of the blame is with the organizers. I might get flamed but when you go to a national level convention u have to prepare for the worse, but then again we all paid a shit load of money just for this so i cant blame them for being angry. The security was inconsistent, one guard may be lenient and the other maybe strict but thats with every event but then again we paid alot. Conquest 2023 wong get much backlash to the point that they will be blacklisted, they got the money and people came, and with the capacity, they probably were able to sell tickets as they had conrad as another venue so a probable loophole in my opinion to why they were able to sell so many tickets.
Im not fully optimistic with next year but i do hope there is one, the cosplays were geeat and i enjoyed seeing people be themselves and enjoy the event. A lot can be done, the space they have has a lot of potential and i hope they downsize a bit for next year. Although i enjoyed this years but i hope next year is even better.
Edit: Spelling and If you have any questions i can answer them

Hi there! I am an IT business analyst. I'm currently job hunting and I was thinking today of what type of job I would like.
In all honesty, I would like a remote position that would occasionally have me travel to Asia, preferably South Korea. I don't even know if that's feasible. I do not know if that is a feasible job. However, if it is, can you guys give me tips on how to look for something like that?
In addition to the business analyst gig, I come from the infrastructure side of IT, which means that I can pretty much do anything at this point. Point. But I'd prefer to stay within the business analyst role, cuz it's something I actually enjoy as opposed to dangling from racks dealing with servers.
Thank you in advance and I appreciate all the advice given in this forum.

Was supposed to do a 3-day 65 mile section of the PCT this weekend, but turned into 2-day 40 mile section because my Altra Lone Peak 6s (size 11 regular) were rubbing my arches and inner sides of my foot like crazy.
I have super wide/flat duck feet. On literally every shoe I’ve ever tried, my arch collapses over the solid trim of the outsole near the midfoot. Lone peaks were the best I’ve tried so far, and I’ve been wearing them the last year or so without issue just because I’ve mostly been doing day hikes or low mileage overnighters.
Went to REI today to try some Lone Peaks in 11 wide and still had the same issue. I’m currently experimenting with just completely removing the insole for some more room, but the side of the outsole still pokes into my arch.
I just want mildly cushioned, zero drop trail runners that are completely flat, with a very wide midfoot and no edge binding that interferes with that. Does this exist?
Edit: I’ve seen Topo Terraventure offered as an alternative to Lone Peaks in other threads, but couldn’t find anything in regards to the relative midfoot width.

First Previous Next
Chapter 6 - From the Ashes
Winrow, Vanstead Dukedom of Augustein, Year 991
She remembered the sounds of screaming. That day came to her in flashes of disjointed images and sensations. In one moment, there was the usual constant chill of the facility, and then in the next there was a burning heat spiraling outwards, climbing up the walls and dying the grey into red.
She remembered twisting shadows and contorted figures. Those magicians, distant and immoveable figures for so much of her life, collapsed to their knees and choked on smoke.
She remembered smaller figures writhing in the flames. A hand crushed beneath debris reaching towards her. A smoking corpse she couldn’t recognize.
She still wondered, sometimes, lying on the cot and staring up at the wooden ceiling, if it had been Tom or Ben. She would focus on the little details of the figure, laboring over the smoking limbs and the exact hunch of the shoulders. She never did know for certain.
She supposed it didn’t matter in the end.
—
Joan inhaled, tightening and loosening her grip on the tray of food she was carrying with her. Once she was done mentally preparing herself, she pushed back her shoulders, gripped the door handle, and turned it.
The door opened with a loud creak. Joan had decided to leave it unoiled on purpose; Amara never responded to knocks, so the least she could do was give a very obvious advance warning when she entered the room.
Joan plastered on a large smile, ignoring the numbness that had been growing on one side of her face, and stepped over to the figure seated on the bed. Amara didn’t even turn, her eyes fixed on the open window and the flowing curtains. It was a bright day, the towering white clouds drifting peacefully across a vast expanse of blue. The sight was particularly welcome after a week of non stop rain.
“Good morning,” Joan said in her most cheery voice. She set the tray down on a small table placed beside the cot. Slowly, Amara turned her head to stare at her. Joan swallowed.
Ever since Amara had woken up, she’d barely spoken or even acknowledged her surroundings. All her movements were dulled, as though she was wading through water, and Joan had yet to see any true reaction from her.
Even when she’d first quietly explained what had happened, that the building was gone and that there weren’t any other survivors, Amara had just listened quietly, perfectly still and unmoving. When Joan had finished speaking, all she’d said was, “Can I see the ruins?”
Joan hadn’t known how to respond to that. Part of her suspected she still hadn’t fully processed what had happened and seeing the destroyed building might provide closure, but she also had to be honest and tell Amara that she was in no condition to move. Amara hadn’t responded to that, but she would still ask, every now and then. Those were the only times she would speak without first being prompted. Besides that, she only ever answered in short, clipped sentences, never referring to Joan by name and never saying more than necessary.
When Joan had confided in Leila, the watchman had made a sympathetic noise and shaken her head. “Poor thing must be in shock,” she’d said.
It was the most obvious explanation and the one Joan had immediately jumped to as well. And yet, the longer she spent around her patient, the more she started to wonder if that initial assessment was wrong.
Despite how dulled her movements seemed and how little she spoke, Amara’s eyes never had the same look to them. Even when she stared off into the distance, there was a constant sharpness there, a hardness that seemed at odds with the rest of her behavior.
Even now, seated on the hospital cot, Amara studied her with that same uncanny perceptiveness, a gaze that always made Joan feel like she was being judged. She forced her own eyes to remain steady instead of darting away like her first instinct was. She briefly considered how absurd it was for her, a former Rose, to be intimidated by an injured patient who was probably half her age and barely old enough to no longer qualify as a “girl.”
Joan cleared her throat, the sound seeming to echo in the pervasive silence.
“How are you today?”
A silent stare was her only answer. Joan suppressed the urge to sigh, instead keeping her smile plastered on. She nodded at the tray of food and stood again.
“Well, if you need anything, I’ll be right there doing work.”
Some time after Amara had woken up, Joan had gotten some neighbors to help her move a table into the patient room so that she could keep an eye on her while working. Amara hadn’t voiced any complaints about it, and it made Joan a little less uneasy, so she’d stuck with the system.
Joan settled down in her seat, squinting down at the stack of letters. She didn’t start reading, however, until she heard the familiar clink of silverware as Amara finally ate. Her shoulders slumped in relief, and she leaned over the table and began to work, ignoring the sensation of eyes on her back as she did so.
—
“You’re healing well,” Joan commented as she carefully inspected an unwrapped wound. She was sure to move slowly and with deliberate gestures, not missing the way Amara’s eyes followed her hands whenever she checked her injuries.
As Joan moved on to the next bandage, she once again considered how lucky Amara was to have survived the explosion. Though she hadn’t seen the building collapse herself, a few of the onlookers had told her that it was sudden and violent. “What do you think happened?” one of them had asked. Joan had told him that she didn’t know. Truthfully she suspected it had been an experiment gone wrong, but she hadn’t wanted to reveal Amara’s secret. As far as the other villagers were concerned, the building was just a lone orphanage that had suffered an unfortunate accident.
“Can I see the ruins?”
Joan frowned. “Not yet,” she said slowly. “Not until all your bones are healed.”
When she looked up again, Amara had turned her head away and was staring at the sky again. Joan sighed and continued the check up.
—
A knock sounded from down the hallway. Joan set down the shirt she was patching and stood with a frown.
“I’ll be right back,” she said before rising and hurrying to the door.
When she opened it, she found not another patient, but Leila still in her watchman uniform. She blinked at the woman, eyes briefly darting over to the basket she was carrying, then back up.
“Leila, it’s good to see you. What’re you doing here?”
“I was patrolling around the area and thought I’d stop by. Here.” She raised her hand and passed the basket over. Joan took it and peered down at its contents. Inside, she found various ripe fruits, some bright flowers that Leila must’ve gotten fresh from the florist, and a small pouch that, when opened, contained an array of glinting coins. Joan’s eyes widened.
“Leila, you didn’t have to—”
“They’re from the watchmen,” the other woman interrupted. She smiled. “I told them I was stopping by and they pooled together some money to help out.”
A warm feeling rose in Joan’s chest. She swallowed, carefully closing the pouch again and setting it back inside the basket beside a bright yellow blossom. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Please tell them thank you for me.”
Leila reached out a gloved hand and patted her shoulder. “After all the times you’ve had to heal us, this is the least we could do,” she joked. She glanced behind Joan at the hallway and lowered her voice. “Speaking of which, how’s she doing?”
“She’s healing well,” Joan said. “I estimate she’ll be able to walk around within the month.”
“You really do work miracles.” Leila shook her head and stepped back. “I ought to get back on patrol. Remember, if you ever need anything, you can ask me.” With a wave, the woman turned around and walked away.
Joan watched her retreating back, shaking her head with fondness before moving to close the door. Basket carefully balanced in her hands, Joan made her way back down the hallway and to the patient room.
“I’m sorry about that, Amara,” she said as she stepped through the doorway. “Leila visited and—”
Joan’s voice cut off.
The cot where Amara usually sat was empty, the wrinkled sheets haphazardly pulled aside. Joan’s eyes darted frantically around the room, landing on her desk table, where her sewing box was overturned, its contents spilled across the table, chair, and wooden ground. Fabric strips, threads, pins, cushions of needles.
And there, a few feet away from the desk, she could just barely make out the top of a head poking out from behind the bed.
The basket fell to the floor.
“No no no—”
Joan didn’t think, immediately sprinting towards the back of the room, cursing herself for being so stupid. Am I too late?
“Amara!” Joan called, stumbling as she leapt onto the cot and peered over in dread, her heart pounding against her ribcage.
There, seated on the ground with her back supported by the bed, sat Amara. She turned her head to face her, and Joan saw that in one hand she held a gleaming pair of scissors and in the other, a thick bundle of wavy hair that lay half scattered across the ground, blown around by the wind billowing into the room.
“You’re back,” Amara observed. Her gaze was as sharp and perceptive as ever.
Joan’s eyes rapidly scanned her, but there were no new injuries to make note of. The only change was her hair, which had been cropped short so that it sat in an uneven line below her chin.
All at once, the tension bled away and Joan slumped down.
“You cut your hair,” she said weakly. Her head throbbed, and she absentmindedly rubbed at it.
“Yeah.”
Joan released a long breath and slowly straightened. She closed her eyes for a moment, calming her rapid heart rate. When she spoke, she forced her voice to remain as still and calm as possible, though she couldn’t entirely mask the slight tremor in her voice.
“Amara, the next time you want to cut your hair or—or do anything, please tell me first. Please.”
Amara stared at her, quiet for a long time. She shifted her position, and for the first time since she’d woken up, something in her eyes changed.
“Okay,” she said.
—
It was a windy day. Joan shivered and pulled her cloak closer, but she didn’t remove her gaze from the figure walking just beside her.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Joan asked. Amara just nodded, not even turning to look her way, and Joan sighed and shook her head. She faced forward as well, eyes following the dirt path and remembering the last time she’d walked along it.
The closer they got to the ruins, the more Joan’s unease grew.
Amara had continued to heal at a rapid pace, and when she’d first started being able to walk around on her own, she constantly did so, moving with a silent, steady determination. The end result of that persistence had led them to their current situation, on the road to the ruins, Amara with only a few bandages left on her skin and walking by herself, albeit a bit slowly, and Joan, whose eyes kept darting over, watching for any reaction.
As far as she could tell, there were none. Amara moved with remarkable calm, shoulders relaxed and eyes steady.
Joan exhaled and kept walking. Ever since the scissors incident, as Joan had dubbed it in her head, Amara had started speaking more. She was still mostly quiet, but she seemed a little more engaged, more interested in her surroundings. She’d even requested Joan teach her how to read, after Joan had given her a tour of her little home and shown her the library. When Amara was sitting there quietly, listening as Joan taught her basic letters and spelling, Joan could almost tell herself that she was just an ordinary, curious young woman if not for the array of scars on her skin. Joan had tried to heal them, but form magic couldn’t alter colors, and so the marks still lingered.
That near normalcy, however, was where the doubts had begun. Initially she’d assumed Amara wanted to see the ruins to give her closure so that she could move on, but what if it had the opposite effect? Joan wasn’t a fool, she knew Amara’s behavior was in no way normal. She had to be repressing things, or perhaps the truth hadn’t really settled yet. What if seeing the ruins caused her to break down?
The longer they walked, the more the doubts grew. Joan quickly became lost in her thoughts, so much so that she didn’t immediately notice when they stopped walking
“Which way?”
Joan blinked and looked up, seeing that they’d reached a familiar fork in the road. Her heart sank and she swallowed. “Left,” she said, voice hoarse. She cleared her throat. “It… it’s just past that hill.”
Amara nodded and turned without hesitation, slowly making her way up the slight incline in a steady rhythm. Another breeze blew past them, carrying scattered tree leaves with it. Joan watched Amara reach the hill top and begin descending until she’d disappeared from view.
Joan stared at the path, limbs suddenly heavy. She tightened her grip on her cloak.
“Get it together,” she muttered. There was no reason for her to be so nervous, she told herself. It was absurd, after all the things she’d already seen throughout her life. But Amara had an uncanny ability to make her feel like a lost child again, someone completely out of her depth.
Joan waited a little longer, listening for any sounds, but there were none besides the wind and rustling flora surrounding them. And so, after a deep breath, Joan lowered her head and made her way over the hill.
When she looked up again, the ruins were in sight. She slowed her pace as she approached.
Where once a simple sturdy grey building had stood, there now lay a pile of debris. Only the bottom sections of the buildings remained standing, jutting out from the ground like broken blades. Charred, splintered wood lay strewn about the grass, and large chunks of shattered stone formed crude boulders.
Surrounding the ruins, colorful blossoms grew in bright patches. Originally someone had suggested burying the bodies—at least the ones they’d been able to recover—there. But Joan had shuddered at the thought of forcing the experiment victims to rest eternally near the broken facility, so she’d requested they move them to Winrow’s graveyard instead. Thankfully people hadn’t questioned her, though the move in the burial site hadn’t stopped people from planting flowers around the area as a memorial.
Joan’s eyes scanned the ruins, finally landing on a single figure standing just in front of the collapsed building. Slowly, Joan approached until she was a few feet away, her footsteps crunching as she stepped over debris.
Amara’s back was turned to her. She didn’t move, simply standing there staring at the destruction before her. The wind blew her now short wavy hair against her neck, and her cloak billowed. The movement caught Joan’s eye, and she caught a glimpse of Amara’s hands hanging at her sides, balled into tight fists that shook barely perceptibly.
Joan opened her mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say. Hesitant, she took another step forward.
And then, all at once, the trembling stopped. Slowly, Amara’s fingers loosened, uncurling themselves until they hung limply at her sides. She raised her head, lifting her face towards the deep blue sky. Joan saw her whole body breathe as another wind blew past them, as though she was trying to fill her lungs with as much air as possible.
A few seconds passed, and Amara’s shoulders fell as she exhaled. Her head lowered back down to eye level, and slowly, she turned around.
Strands of hair lay strewn haphazardly against her face, mussed and twisted by the wind. Her posture was perfectly relaxed and casual, not a trace of tension in sight. The scars running up her arms seemed almost to move in the shifting shadows cast by her cloak. Her sharp eyes, a bright green that gleamed in the sunlight, were piercing.
But what caught Joan’s attention the most was her smile. It was bright, unreadable, and utterly unfamiliar.
“Joan,” Amara said, voice calm. “Let’s go back.”
​
First Previous Next
Royal Road Patreon

Unpopular Statement here…
Seems to be a lot of controversy about the courtesy cards we use out here in NYC, since some whistle decided to sue about it. For my guys down south who seem to have a completely different LE culture than us up here
We get as many as we pay for per year…. We give them to close family and very close friends who we trust with our name….. Yes, it’s a North East thing, we help each other out when it comes to family, because out here … all we really have is each other , when most of us work in areas where the public completely hates you. So when we give this to someone, we let you know that we trust them enough for you to consider them one of the good ones..
Almost got into a fist fight with a co worker today, still went to back him on a job and slammed the perp together.. while there was a crowd forming against us. If you have one of my cards, it’s because you wouldn’t step in that crowd
Especially for someone getting stopped for going 5mph over. We don’t expect it to be Get out of jail free. If they disrespect you, or give you a hard time, give them a ticket. But damn man if they just made a simple mistake, may be having a rough day, and they’re humble to you…. Show the damn courtesy that you would want your family to get.
https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/2023/jun/04/nypd-lawsuit-courtesy-cards-traffic-tickets
Referencing this article. It was posted in protectandserve, but I can’t comment because I never sent my ID….

I’ve been dealing with these thoughts for 12 years.. I attempted last year. I don’t remember how it happened but the police found me and I woke up in the hospital. I scared everyone that loves me and that kept me going longer… then in September I almost did it again but I stopped myself and checked myself into a hospital. Now I’m so done. I don’t feel the need to tell anyone how I feel around me anymore. I don’t want to vent to my loved ones. I don’t want to scare them anymore. Everyone thinks I’m doing so good right now and I’m not. Im nearing the end i really feel it in my gut. I don’t want to hurt anyone I love and I know it will hurt everyone. I just wish my death wouldn’t hurt my family. I want to make it look like an accident so they don’t have the guilt suicide brings on people. But I want to leave my family the money in my account, I want to find a new home for my dog, and I want to leave everyone I love with a final farewell. I want to say so much to the ones I love before I go and I can’t send this money over and leave them a final goodbye without raising suspicion. I don’t want to hurt anyone or fuck up anyones summer but I am so exhausted. This never ending struggle of living is horrible… it’s not a way to live. I tried everything to feel better. I’ve tried therapy for years, I’ve been through so many therapists, I’ve tried medication, I’ve tried going back to school, I’ve tried writing, I’ve tried everything. Nothing ever helps I don’t feel like I’m worth anything. I can never finish anything. I’m a liar. I’m easily tossed to the side and it’s all my fault. I can’t blame anyone for these things but myself. I know I can’t change the past so I try to push forward and be better. But I will never feel like enough I’ll always will be easily tossed to the side. I know I’m loved but I hurt everyone I love. I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore. I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I just don’t want to keep trying I’ve been crying at random times all week and today I just feel calm. Like nothings there anymore. I feel like I won’t make it to the end of this month. I just wanted to let this all out because I can’t tell anyone around me.

While out driving today, I hit another car.
The other driver and I exchanged information and they weren't going to file a police report, but a sheriff showed up and created an accident report, so I was ticketed.
Apparently my car insurance ended May 26 (today is June 4) due to missed payments. I didn't realize and don't recall receiving notification. Point is, I was uninsured at the time of the accident.
The other driver's insurance rep called me and left a voice-mail. I'm not sure what to tell them and what I need to do on my end.

Hello, friends.
Today, we're going to receive quite a lot of exposition about the nature of Strictland through the eyes of Seonghwa. There's a lot to discuss, so let's jump right in.

01: What are your thoughts on the page?

BobbyJ: I have a note on my page that says the Strictland government and economy are further explained in Pt. 3 Intro
GD: Okay. This is a big page
BobbyJ: It's interesting that emotions aren't fully abolished. They're just severely dulled. Which obviously reminds me of The Giver. And that only art has been abolished specifically.
GD: Yes, I think that's right. I feel like we should go paragraph by paragraph with this one because there is a lot
BobbyJ: From the top then?
Once again, it feels that we're left to infer what has happened in the meantime
GD: Yes, the first line makes it feel we're getting the Halateez story from the Grimes’ perspective, but then we get a lot of world building details to help us understand it. Are we to assume that the Grimes siblings think these boys look like Halateez? Or do they not know? Because Halateez wore masks?
BobbyJ: No, I think Ateez probably were like "What's the deal with this place?" And the Grimes Boy has been filling them in on the story. The entry starts at the end of the story and then fills us in
GD: A note: "the entire human race"
We've talked before about whether there is a world outside of strictland. And you know, I still don't know? Maybe that's a future goal? Or Z is in charge of the entire human race, which feels... big
BobbyJ: Yeah--it feels more like the simulation says "the entire human race would benefit from this thing" and Z just applies that structure to his world he somehow is in control of. And by his world, I mean more the country/area he's in charge of
GD: I'm in this second paragraph here, and I guess I'm just thinking that Z isn't wrong. Human emotions do cause crime and terrorism. But it reminds me of the gun debate we're currently having in our country? And all of the politicians who want to blame it on mental health? which is part of the problem, but it isn't the whole problem
BobbyJ: I disagree. It's true that we can't control our feelings. But our feelings do not dictate what we do or how we act. It's the will to do something wrong for the sake of selfishness or greed--which I don't classify as emotions
GD: I guess I'm saying that I think human emotions are a cause, but not the cause
BobbyJ: Mental health is also a factor, I think
GD: I think I am more sympathetic to Z and the simulation. I do think human emotions can lead to crime and terrorism, but they can just as easily lead to beauty and joy. So if you get rid of human emotions, you probably will stop some crime, but you will also stop other things.
BobbyJ: I am not sympathetic to Z because I don't feel this is as benevolent as it might appear. It feels very sinister to me. "This is all for you" is bullshit
GD: I can see Z as the hero of his own story--a Thanos type character--but we don't really know enough about him at this point.
BobbyJ: This is full speculation, but do we think Z also agreed to have his emotions limited and memories removed?
GD: Almost surely not. Those rules don't apply to people who can be trusted, I assume
BobbyJ: "Central government.” Implies, like, the existence of branches, no? Which makes me think the world is bigger than it feels
GD: Does the Korean government currently have branches? I know they have a president, but I guess I don't know much else about how power in the government works there. Like I don't know if they have legislative bodies, how powerful the judicial branch is, etc
BobbyJ: It appears it is similar to the U.S. After reading for two minutes
GD: Helpful context though
BobbyJ: Their president can only serve one five-year term. Means nothing but is interesting. Kinda wish we had that same policy these days
GD: For sure
I want to talk about art. Art with a capital A. Art=emotion
BobbyJ: Yes. The entire process of creating and engaging with art is based on emotions
GD: Sort of no matter how the individual members of Ateez feel about their lore, I have always felt that they embody that philosophy. Just this idea that Art is Important?
I talked about this the other day, but I was very impressed with KQ hiring a local artist for the billboard promotion during anchor. I thought it was very thematic, and also that it sort of embodied a lot of the ideas that they do put out in their diaries. Because as you mentioned earlier, art is the only thing that's banned
BobbyJ: I'm thinking about this idea of songs that give me negative feelings vs. songs that give me no feelings at all. I don't know exactly what I am thinking. But it reminds me of a chat I had with a fellow yearbook advisor years ago
He said that when his staff is trying to decide on their artistic direction for that year's volume, they'd go through a bunch of magazines and everyone would pick out spreads they really like. They'd pin them all to a bulletin board. Then each staffer would get two colors of push pins. They'd all use one color for spreads they like and one for spreads they hate. He said that after the exercise, they'd remove all the spreads that received none or few pins while those that had a lot of either love or hate pins they'd keep.
And I thought it was interesting that the hated spreads were kept. And his reasoning was that those spreads made the staffers feel something. It wasn't a good something, but it was something
GD: That is interesting
BobbyJ: And when I apply this idea to music or movies or tv or art--the things I actively dislike do stick with me while the things I just nothing fade away
GD: It reminds me of book clubs in a way? Like, in my book club, we have a great book club discussion when everyone loves or hates the book. If people are like, yeah, it's fine, the conversation is so.... nothing.
BobbyJ: Is it. . . harder to talk about things that we love actually?
I can't help but notice that whenever there's a heartfelt appreciation post, it gets very little traction and engagement. But if someone does an "unpopular opinion" or "things you hate about the group you love" post, suddenly everyone has something to share. Perhaps we've talked about this before. Justifying why you dislike something is easier than justifying why you love something?
GD: So I sometimes wonder if, when it comes to music, the problem is one of vocabulary more so than a lack of desire? Like, most people have taken a basic literature class, so when we love a book, we can all universally talk about things like plot, structure, characters--we have some sort of shared understanding of the parts of a story and can discuss and identify the things that we like
It's different for music. I do not know how to identify the parts of a song or the instruments or just the music things that are happening. Music knowledge and vocabulary is so much more niche, so I do think that makes it harder to discuss and pinpoint music that we really love--because we're experiencing it fully emotionally, the context and words all removed. So I do think with music especially, it is easier to talk about the things that we dislike.
BobbyJ: But shouldn't your dislike also require vocabulary? I remember when I was trying to rant about O.O I didn't have any of the words so I had to resort to metaphor
GD: I think it's possibly easier to come up with metaphors for things we dislike than things we love. I can only describe listening to Jongho as like looking into the face of god so many times before I start to sound like I'm slightly insane.
But you know, people don't have the right words to describe why they dislike something all the time--and they just go forward with the wrong words. How many times have you seen someone say "Ateez's music is too noisy for me" when Ateez has possibly two songs in their discography that could be labeled noise music? "I don't like the autotune" when there's barely any autotune
BobbyJ: People do seem to have Feelings about Ateez music. Which I would argue supports the idea that Ateez are making Art
I do wonder exactly what Z classifies as art
GD: I for sure agree with you. It's like that conversation about what a cover should be from the other day: you can like or dislike what Ateez does when covering another group's song, but they will be changing it to achieve their own artistic expression. They will not make you a copy. They will make new art.
We know paintings. Music seems implied.
BobbyJ: Fashion probably? Which makes me think it's interesting that Left Eye specifically is a former designer. But it wasn't the art ban that made him give up designing
Actually, reading ahead. I'm not sure fashion was banned after all? It's hard to tell
GD: I guess it's interesting to me because anything can be art. A house, a car, furniture? Given the right person making those things, they can be art just as easily as they might not be art.
So I do wonder if Z is defining Art more broadly... like, art is not this thing, but art is anything that incites an undue amount of emotion
BobbyJ: Right--I was just thinking, is all music art? And I would argue no if the person writing a song is not doing it for the sake of expression but for the sake of making money. But if that song evokes emotion in someone else, I'd say yes, it is art.
GD: We do have those prohibited signs from Rhythm Ta, which calls out "art, music, dance"? Am I remembering that correctly? Or is it "art, music, emotion"?
What does it mean for something to be defined as art is really a question courts have struggled with for many, many, many years. So it's possible that even in Z's world, what is art is a question that is constantly influx and being redefined
[BobbyJ provides screenshot of Rhythm Ta stage]
Okay, so art, dance, and music are Art specifically.
"Art" lower case art, I'm assuming is paintings, drawings, sculptures. The physical arts.
BobbyJ: Right. Literature and fashion aren't mentioned. Or acting. But maybe they fall under the general Art umbrella. Keeping it vague gives Z more control
GD: Do you know the supreme court case where the supreme court tries to define art?
I feel like I should look it up to get that quote. Hold on--I need to check something
[GD checks something]
So in Tutton v. Viti, the supreme court implied that it is up to the creators to define whether the thing they created is art. The case was about sculpture, and whether these sculptors who were copying sculptures were engaged in the act of creating art
BobbyJ: Just straight up copying?
GD: And basically, they said the sculptors were artists due to their skill despite the lack of creative merit. They weren't trying to like, sell them. It was creating replica sculptures in art class. Which would violate copyright (if they were selling them)
BobbyJ: So, like, if I do a cover of a BTS song and I sound identical to BTS, I'm still an artist . Hypothetically
GD: If you perform it with good enough skill, according to the US Supreme Court, it seems so
BobbyJ: Wait--they weren't selling them? Then what was the problem? How did it end up in the Supreme Court?
GD: I have not read the full case and it is extremely old, so hard to parse, but it seems the original sculptor did not want them making replicas in their art class and argued they were not allowed to do it because it wasn't real art
BobbyJ: Artists do studies all the time where they basically copy other artists' work in order to learn techniques
GD: And the supreme court said, no, they can do that. Which, exactly. This is a precedent that holds. If you do art and sell it, I can't copy it and also sell it. I can however copy it and use it for my own personal use (legally--that doesn't mean it's ethical, but legally)
BobbyJ: Well, it's the same idea as me copying a designer dress and making it myself and for myself because I don't want to spend $800 on a dress
GD: Like if someone made something on etsy that I wanted, and I didn't want to pay for it, I can legally copy it for myself. Right, the supreme court would define both of those things as artistic endeavors
BobbyJ: Huh. I mean--I don't disagree. I'm also not certain it needs to be termed as "art"
GD: Terming it "art" is how they protect it because art is a protected right under the constitution
BobbyJ: Wait--if art is also a protected right in the South Korean constitution, then that would imply that Z was able to change the constitution. Which is wild. How long did this process take?
(Also, assuming that Strictland was originally more like South Korea)
GD: We'd have to review the South Korean constitution. I don't know for sure that it is a right because I know nothing about their legal system. But because art is protected under our constitution, I have always defined art fairly broadly. So considering art being banned, is putting me in a different head space
BobbyJ: Article 22: All citizens shall enjoy freedom of learning and the arts.
GD: I'm now looking up how to make constitutional amendments in Korea
BobbyJ: I mean if they also had a National Assembly, he got the bill passed there
GD: It makes me think I've gone pretty far afield here
BobbyJ: If we're thinking about it, I guarantee the Intern also thought about it
GD: I would like to note that "people enjoyed material affluence"
BobbyJ: Yes, I have a sticky note about that
GD: And I am thinking of Maslow's hierarchy? Which I know is something we've also discussed a lot. But I am wondering, how many citizens weren't having their basic needs met when they agreed to give up art?
BobbyJ: Right. Is art part of our Maslow?
A lot probably. There had to have been problems in order for people to accept Z's proposal
GD: It's certainly easier to give up art if you're not currently able to eat
BobbyJ: Mingi comes to mind. Which I think is when we were discussing Maslow
GD: I have argued, and I will still argue it, that art should be part of human's basic needs. Like, it can make the rest of it all seem less grim for some people. But yeah, if you don't have a place to live, don't have any food, are struggling to just survive, giving up art for the promise of having your basic needs meet will be very appealing to many people
BobbyJ: I think I would argue that art belongs on the "love and belonging" tier which is about friends, family and connection. Art helps us connect with ourselves and others and the world around us. Like, you read a poem that perfectly describes how you feel. Or Ateez releases Turbulence and you swear they pulled the lyrics straight out of your soul
GD: Mmmmmm. . . and love and belonging aren't actually that low on the pyramid. High I mean. They're not that high--they're in the middle
BobbyJ: But you can't really fully reap the benefits of that tier if you are starving to death. And self-actualization is pretty meaningless if you aren't connected to other people in some way
GD: I spend a lot of time thinking about self-actualization which I forgot was even on this pyramid. I'm looking at the pyramid now, obviously
Yes. Art is love and belonging. I've decided you're right. So they've traded in love and belonging for the two things below it
In the next paragraph, they say that the songs had "the power to attract people" which I think is interesting
BobbyJ: The "various fields" is interesting to me. I think of people in different lines of work. Like scientists, teachers, lawyers, etc. But I'm not sure that's what it means
GD: I had long ago been confused about who the black pirates were and how they related to halaateez, but this line makes it pretty clear that halateez sort of inspired other people to get out of Z's control, and then those other people formed the black pirates
BobbyJ: Right. Halateez are "men wearing black fedora.” The Black Pirates is the name of the resistance
GD: Halateez "stimulated" them. Which, with what we know from Halazia, makes sense that the resistance seems to venerate them? Because they weren't necessarily a part of, and well known, to the resistance. They were merely the inspirational rallying cry. Does that make sense?
BobbyJ: Like Katniss. Not everyone knew her but they knew OF her
GD: Yes, and I'm interpreting Halazia as showing us what Strictland thought of halateez, not that halateez appear in the MV because I do not think they do.
Back to your point, what do you think people from various fields means if not different positions?
BobbyJ: I wondered if it meant more physical location. Although, if you have people with different skills and specialties, it would explain how the resistance is able to start fighting back
GD: Do you think it could mean something similar to stations too? Like, young, old, rich, poor, etc
BobbyJ: Could be.
GD: Skipping to the last line, we have Hwa sort of repeating a line similar to Hongjoong's in the first entry? What's important is getting back home. And they can't do that now
BobbyJ: Right. They haven't grasped their place in this story yet
GD: I read ahead because I couldn't stop myself and the jump is fascinating "we have to get back home" to "I won't come back home"
BobbyJ: I have also read ahead but a lot further
GD: Sounds right lol
BobbyJ: Because I became very curious about a different switch--how do they go from we need to get home to let's save this country
And I think I have an idea
GD: That is also the switch I was looking for
BobbyJ: This is way ahead, but after the Receiving of the Suits, in the very next chapter, San discovers the lost memories and feels "a surge of anger.” After that, Yeosang gets caught and all the drama happens with the museum and Yunho's brother. But I think that's the switch. I think it triggers San's empathy. And he spreads the agenda to the others
GD: I am very interested in what's happening with Yunho, but I suppose I need to save my interest for like 6 weeks. I do think we will need to cut this bible study in half
BobbyJ: Expected
GD: Well, this was a big page. It had a lot. We read some constitutions even
BobbyJ: Much was learned
GD: Do we have any more thoughts on the page? Or should we pick a patron saint to hold us to next week?
BobbyJ: I'm sure there's lots more to say. I just don't know what any of those things are.
GD: Perhaps we will have more thoughts on the page next week even. A double round of thoughts on the page
BobbyJ: Might even need a part 3
GD: I've been using an extra ES album to pin the postcard for my patron saint on my bulletin board, and I have appreciated it deeply. Hongjoong has been up for two weeks now
BobbyJ: I feel like the patron saints actually work. Except I didn't have one this past week and that probably explains a lot
GD: I kept Hongjoong, but I do think it would've been wise to have a refresher
BobbyJ: Let's just make sure we do it every Sunday, Bible study or not
GD: Right, even if we cancel bible study, a new, Very Important thing
So, this week, I need to finish the line edit of this book. Which means I need to focus and stay motivated. I think the boy I want to guide me through it is Jongho. I need his professionalism in the face of challenges and his commitment to doing the things that he doesn't like as much because he knows that it is part of his job.
Also, it's hard to think about anything other than his Immortal Songs stage, so I may as well lean in
BobbyJ: Let it be your battle cry
So. This is the last full week of classes. Which means a lot of work to finish off the semester. But, the list is so much shorter than it used to be. So that's something to be happy about.
But also, based on his condition today, I suspect that this might be the week I have to let go of Oliver. [Editor’s note: It was.]
And I think I need San. His ability to embody whatever moment he's in on stage. I don't fully understand how it translates, but I feel it's true
GD: Hmmm yes I think I understand, though I don't have the words either.
There's something about present-ness and humanity in there. I have always thought that San had a real ability to see the human-ness in others and to communicate the human-ness in himself. Which probably only makes sense to me.
BobbyJ: No, I think you're right. There's something extremely real about him
GD: I hope he helps guide you through what has the potential to be a very hard week
BobbyJ: Whatever happens, we keep moving forward. Which also feels very San.
-----
Thank you for joining us today. We'll be back next week with our Seonghwa Sacred Writing Practice. Have an excellent week, and may your personal patron saint guide you well.

You had everything you could ever dream of. You were Rich, you were dating the Quarterback, You were the head of the Cheer Squad, Had all the most popular girls in school begging to be your bestie just for the social credit it brought, You were even the most beautiful girl in all of town! You had it all. The Queen of our little town. You lived it up, burning cash like it didn't mean anything. A Party every night, countless amounts of booze and drugs, and just the most active of sex lives to keep up with your urges. But after one of those such nights...Everything went wrong.
Who would have known letting your Boyfriend drive you home would have been such a bad idea. And how the hell were you supposed to know how much he'd been drinking or how much coke he'd done, you were a busy girl! You didn't babysit him at every party...And who would have known blowing through a single Stop sign would have been such a poor life choice. You could have handled a cop, you had plenty of money to blow on a ticket or you could always have flashed him...that usually worked if it was a guy. You could even have handled a night in prison! What you couldn't handle...Was an 18-Wheeler hauling lumber. Jake, your Ex, was practically unharmed, getting out of the accident with a few broken ribs and a hell of a lot of bruises. But you on the other hand...Your dad had always told you to keep your feet off of the dash, but that was just to keep the dirt off. Turns out that when an airbag deploys, it kicks really fucking hard...
You woke up in the hospital after 6 weeks in a Coma. The mix of blunt force trauma, internal injuries, and minor brain damage had forced them to put you under till your condition improved. Your face was bruised and broken, but they told you that you'd make a full recovery. Your hands were shattered, and while they'd never be 100% again, they told you that you should regain 60-80% functionality if you stuck to the therapy they assigned. What they couldn't fix...was the spinal damage. You originally woke up in a panic, the terror of the situation you had survived weeks ago finally making its way to your brain. The scramble to stand up led to a tumble to the ground as your legs just...wouldn't move...You were thinking so damn hard but they just lay there as the tears started flowing like mad. You actually ended up puking from the stress and anxiety. So obviously, the next few days were...a blur. Barely taking in any information, just...gliding by on autopilot...Something about therapy sessions, something about the new ramps and assistants your father was hiring and having put in...But the entire time this was going on, Not a single one of your friends came to visit. None of the cheer squad, none of the other Party Girls, Not even Jake...You couldn't even text him because your hands were still so damaged, but the few times you tried to call with help, he never picked up.
It took a while till your doctors cleared you to go back to school. And when you got there...It was horrible. Jake had seemingly already moved on, your friends treated you like filth...All your status, all your fame, and reputation were down the drain. Because now you aren't cool anymore. You aren't the girl who has sex in the back of Jake's Mustang whenever he feels like it or the girl does so many shots she blacks out or does so much coke she could fuck all night...Now, you're just the girl who couldn't even go to the bathroom unless there were rails to hold on to. Your life is nonexistent now. So you convinced your Dad to buy a new house halfway across the country to get away from it all...Your father staying behind to deal with his business, but he promised to visit as soon as he could. And so you moved, by yourself emotionally, even if your father had arranged for your new physiotherapist to be on call at all hours.
Today is the first day of your new life, The first day we meet, and the first day you've laughed in months...

Hey there, I know this is a bit of a dark story but I've always had a bit of a thing for dark stories anyways. This is meant to be a slow-burn, wholesome romance RP of an Ex-Popular girl meeting someone who genuinely cares for her despite her injuries. She's not meant to have any major physical deformities, but more than likely has scarring and lots of mental problems since her life changed so much so fast. As I said in the story, her hands were injured in the accident, so you can have them be as functional or dysfunctional as you want, just remember even if they function close to normally, she still has the trauma. If you have ideas or questions, feel free to ask them in a Chat or DM. I hope someone out there is interested in taking a dive into this plot with me. Must be 18+

Greetings,
I am using three 50 watt Renogy panels in series (150W) but my wattage readings in near-peak sun today seemed very low. I was only getting 13-43 watts at different times around high-noon.
My panels were a bit hot (30C) and I understand the the coating of tree pollen could drop their performance by as much as 25-30%. We have had very little rain.
Perfectly south facing, At 35 degrees from horizontal (55 from vertical) to maximize for the angle of the sun at this time of year (sun is at 68 degrees at noon on June 21).
Does it seem like this is what I should be expecting on my Rover readings?
Thanks very much.

Hi all. I was cleaning up a particularly gross “accident” by swirling the child’s underpants in the toilet ( I know I know, but how do you do it?) and they slipped out of my fingers when I flushed. Gone. Gone gone. How worried should I be? Anything I should do to help it get it through to the sewer main? I have flushed / poured maybe 50 gallons through the drains so far today, two loads of laundry and a dishwasher load with no issues…. Yet.
House was built in 1964. This bathroom is on the one level above ground. Sewer goes out below the basement floor to a step system which raises it to the sewer main in the alley.
Any advice beyond earmarking some $$$ for the upcoming service call? Thanks a ton.

before immediately stating "do not apply", would really really appreciate if people could look at my stats/experiences and give me advice. thank you!
Demographics:
ORM, 25F, and resident of Georgia.
Stats:
cGPA: 2.75 (includes smp)
sGPA: 2.65 (includes smp)
SMP at RWJMS: 3.38 gpa
Dunno if this is useful info but:
last 90 credits cGPA/sGPA: 3.1/3.1
last 60 credits cGPA/sGPA: 3.3/3.2
MCAT 2x: 506 (126/124/125/131) & 509 (128/124/126/131)
**I lost a parent during college and that fucked up 2 years of classes for me which is why even with the smp my gpa doesn't really budge. i do have an upward trend. i graduated college with a 2.62 lol.
Extracurriculars/Clinical Experience:
25 hours - Shadowing
400 hours - Medical Assistant (ongoing)
800 hours - Leadership in Sorority & Student Government
1000 hours - Established a program that provides free menstrual products to students on undergraduate campus (still involved)
250 hours - RWJMS Research Intern (1 abstract publication & conference presentation)
480 hours - Physical Therapy Aide
100 hours - Background Acting for Film/TV Productions
5000 hours - Jobs: front desk at a dorm and a restaurant delivery driver
125 hours - Volunteering
MD schools
Albany Medical College
Chicago Medical School at Rosalind Franklin University of Medicine & Science
Creighton University School of Medicine
Drexel University College of Medicine
Eastern Virginia Medical School
Frank H Netter MD School of Medicine at Quinnipiac University
Geisinger Commonwealth School of Medicine
George Washington University School of Medicine and Health Sciences
Hackensack Meridian
Howard University College of Medicine
Loyola University Chicago Stritch School of Medicine
Medical College of Wisconsin
Meharry Medical College
Mercer School of Medicine
Morehouse School of Medicine
Nova Southeastern University Dr. Kiran C. Patel College of Allopathic Medicine
Pennsylvania State University College of Medicine
Robert Larner, M.D. College of Medicine at the University of Vermont
St. Louis University School of Medicine
Tulane University School of Medicine
University of California, Los Angeles David Geffen School of Medicine
University of Colorado School of Medicine
USF Health Morsani College of Medicine
Virginia Tech Carilion School of Medicine
Wake Forest University School of Medicine
Wayne State university School of medicine
West Virginia University School of Medicine
DO schools
A.T. Still University SOM - Arizona
Alabama COM
Midwestern University - Arizona COM
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Campbell University Jerry M. Wallace SOM
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Edward Via COM - Auburn
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Lake Erie COM
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Philadelphia COM - Georgia Campus
Philadelphia COM - South Georgia
Philadelphia COM
Rowan University SOM
Western University of HS COM of the Pacific - Oregon
William Carey University COM
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I keep trying to deconstruct all my problems and I keep coming to the same conclusion, other than feeling like everything is my fault... I feel like I need a mom. Or a dad, I don't care. But I'm trying to find that in other adults and it's fucking up my life. My relationship is bad because we keep arguing, and the comfort I want when I reflect on it afterwards is like I want a mom to come and hug me...
I feel so jealous when people have loving parents. It feels harder to be jealous of dads because they're not nearly as present as moms. But I cried today over hearing someone talk about being a father to their kid and just feeling like fuck... I wish I had a fraction of any of the love his kid is getting. I guess my parents are loving, I always thought they were better than other parents until I left the house. I am forever greatful for them, but God I never feel the love. Did I ever? They are very hands off, have done a lot to hurt me they now regret, and everytime I try to get closer to them they push me away. Or they try to get closer to me and I push them away on accident, because I'm so used to accepting the distance. I feel so tired always trying to make them like me when I think they're neutral, at best.
I'm crying right now, again, because I just fought with my partner because of this stupid "tough love" approach to my problems EVERYONE gives me. I am destroying our and my roommates relationship. but I can't stand it anymore, "oh just get on the problem, work harder, be better, don't be upset..." why can't anyone just be nice? Am I too sensitive to live? I feel so horrible all the time. All I want is a silent hug and someone who helps me a little with my life. I think so fondly of when my mom would come into my room and help me clean it when I would cry that I couldn't because I was so small and everything felt so daunting. I'm bigger physically, but it's all the same. But things haven't been that way for a decade.
I miss my mom. I called her and we talked and we laughed for a while. But I went to visit her and she seemed afraid to touch me. Didn't know how to talk to me. I feel so alone.

Title: Debunking Common Myths Surrounding Bicycle Accident Injuries and Compensation in Oregon
Hey fellow Redditors! As an attorney at Pacific Injury Law Firm, I've come across numerous misconceptions regarding bicycle accidents and the rights of cyclists here in our beautiful state of Oregon. Today, I'd like to take a moment to debunk some common myths we encounter and provide valuable information for all you cycling enthusiasts out there.
Myth #1: Cyclists are always at fault when involved in an accident with a motor vehicle. In reality, Oregon law treats bicycles as vehicles on public roads (ORS 814.400), granting cyclists the same rights and responsibilities as any other road user. Thus, if a motorist causes an accident due to negligence, they may be liable for any resulting injuries or damages.
Myth #2: If you weren't wearing a helmet during an accident, you cannot receive compensation. While helmets significantly reduce the risk of head injuries (ORS 814.485), not wearing one doesn't automatically disqualify you from seeking compensation under Oregon law. Although contributory negligence could be considered in some cases, our comparative negligence rule (ORS 31.600) allows injured cyclists to recover compensation even if partially at fault—as long as their degree of responsibility does not exceed that of the other parties involved.
Myth #3: Legal representation isn't necessary after a bicycle accident. Although minor cases can sometimes be resolved through negotiation with insurance companies or at-fault parties directly, many bicycle accident injury cases are more complex and require expert legal guidance from experienced personal injury attorneys who understand Oregon's intricate laws surrounding such incidents.
So remember—cyclists have just as much right to be on Oregon roads as anyone else! Don't let these misconceptions hold you back from understanding your rights and seeking justice if needed.
If you or someone close has been involved in a bicycle accident and needs assistance navigating the complexities of Oregon's legal system, do not hesitate to reach out to us at Pacific Injury Law Firm. We are dedicated to helping our clients achieve fair compensation for their injuries and losses. Give us a call at (971) 277-3811 or visit our website: https://pacificinjurylawfirm.com.
Learn more about debunking these common myths by reading our full blog post here: https://pacificinjurylawfirm.com/blog/debunking-common-myths-surrounding-bicycle-accident-injuries-compensation
Stay safe out there, and happy cycling! #PacificInjuryLawFirm

I am going to attempt to be as u biased, neutral and transparent as I possibly can, because I really need help in knowing if I'm just not seeing things clearly. As the result is ending a marriage with the only person I've ever loved on this level, so it would be terrible if I'm just living in delusion. Thank you in advance for your help, comments, opinions, hard truths and experiences.
My wife and I have been married for two and a half years. We dated two to three years prior to that. She asked me to marry her and I enthusiastically and lovingly said, "YES!"
Our relationship started after we met each other in an A.A. community. Now, please understand, I believe it looked like this. We knew each other, we worked on ourselves and after two years of knowing each other, after we each did a lot of work and became healthy, we decided to start dating. So, it wasn't a hookup at first sight type of ordeal... just to add some clarity.
After we started dating about 9 months in, I had a relapse, I must admit it was bad, as I overdosed and wound up in the hospital.
I got back on track again, we mended, or so I thought, and we rented a duplex together. Up until this point we were living separately. She was living on her own, with her daughter at the time, and I was living with a roommate.
When we got the duplex, her daughter moved in with us, and eventually her son. Now that we had more space, she was able to get to more placement custody of her to youngest son from another marriage. Since we were becoming healthier and healthier, we were able to clean up our past and began to make good futures together for ourselves and each other.
I must admit, at first her kids were a handful. Her and her daughter fought daily. Yelling, screaming... the works. 6am waking up to two women yelling at the top of their lungs. Everything basically except physical violence. And I put up with it and let them begin to work out and grow their relationship. As for her son, now that we had space, he began to live with us too, because their dad isn't the best person, to put it nicely.
She has an entirely different relationship with her son than her daughter. They are basically best friends and she enables him to the end of the earth. Yet, I put up with that as well and allowed their relationship to grow.
Enter her youngest from another marriage. He has a learning disability, is 80% deaf, is on the autism spectrum and is in a situation where he will always need special care and not be able to live on his own. He has tantrums, is defiant and has the comprehension of about a five year old... he's 13 now. He began to stay with us a couple of days a week, to a few days a week.
While we were renting she asked me to marry her and I said yes.
We bought a house together. Her daughter did not move in with us because her relationship with her mom is better with them living apart. She moved out when she was 16. Her oldest son of course came with us, and now we had her youngest one week on, one week off.
Of course, I accepted all this because they are her kids and I love her. Even though it's challenging because the twenty year old son isn't expected to do anything and she's constantly after me to take out the trash, clean this, clean that. I tell her, I pay a majority percent of the bills and have a demanding job, I will do these things when I have an opportunity, but if you need it done right now, ask your son. But of course she will not do that. He rarelt cleans his room, he doesn't cut the grass, he doesn't snowblow, he isn't responsible for a single chore. Yet, he doesn't pay rent.
I take that back. His chore is the trash. And this is how it goes...
On trash day, all day long she has to constantly remind him. Asking him to go do it because hes not doing anything at the moment, yet he states he's busy and will do it later. So in the evening, sonce of course it's not taken out yet, she goes around the entire house and collects all the trash and bags it up and puts it by the back door. Then it's still not done when we go to bed, so she reminds him again. All he has to do is move it out the door three feet to put it in the trash can and walk the trash can to the street. And that's called "being responsible to take care of the trash". The trash can then stays on the street for 4 days after trash pickup while she constantly asks him to put it up. And this is a weekly affair without fail.
His room is freaking disgusting too! He has to keep his room door shut because otherwise it will smell up the entire upstairs.
However, I should take care of the majority of chores. When we have a 20 year old living in the house that doesn't help with much at all.
Also, because I work from home, her perception is that I can watch her youngest son, while I'm home so she can go to work. And she gets agitated out when I tell her I can't.
I wind up taking care of her son about 30% to her 70% throughout the week on a solo basis. Meaning solo, when we are not together. What this looks like is... making sure he gets to the bathroom, feeding him, putting him to bed. If he has a bathroom accident, cleaning that up. And remember, more often than not, because he's challenged, he's defiant. So it hard... but it's not his fault.
Yet, she says I don't do anything to help her.
She became a substance abuse counselor and has been sober for seven years, yet recently, the past two years has been smoking weed daily. And she smokes weed with her underage daughter and son in a state where it's not legal.
She even lost her wedding rings, which were my late grandmother's that my mom gave to me to give to her. We were on a camping trip and she was stoned and misplaced them. No real remorse and to this day she has never apologized or even brought the topic up to my mom.
My part... I got on suboxone and I believe it works really well for me. I didn't tell her about it because if she has an opposing opinion on something, it's impossible to talk to her and have an adult conversation about it. And then prepare to be berated.
Of course she found out and now holds the opinion that I am a liar. And I lie about everything. Just because I didn't tell her about this, or that every now and again, I used recreationally. However, she can talk to me about the fact that she smokes weed, because I can have an open mind to that choice and hold a conversation with her. I though can't talk to her about things that goes against her opinions. So I just don't and I keep those things to myself. She finds out of course and then calls me a liar. When the root cause, I believe, is that she can not communicate or be open-minded to anything she disagrees with.
She constantly tells me I gaslight her and that I'm mentally sick and suffer from depression.
The reason she says I'm depressed is because since she became a counselor, it is her entire life now and she goes around diagnosing everyone. She tells a story about this person and then says, "Oh yeah, definitely this diagnosis." Or is talking about another person and in the conversation states, "absolutely x mental illness."
I feel like I don't have a wife anymore. I feel like I have a mom, because I'm constantly asked to do chores rather than her asking her son, and I have a live-in counselor.
The fact is, I cook more than she does. And clean exactly as much as she does. Plus take care of the outside and mechanical or fix-it needs. She has terrible perception. I just don't go around announcing when I do things as she does. For example she says, "Today I washed clothes, did this, did that." I just do it, and don't make a big deal over it.
She comes home from work and for the next two hours is a conversation of how busy she is. I run a company with eight retail stores and multiple divisions, and I'm thinking... oh boy, that's not even close to how busy I am. Yet I'm not constantly complaining about it. And yet I'm thought to have more time than her.
She never gives me credit for helping out with her youngest. She never gives me credit for housekeeping. She never gives me credit for financial support. She never gives me credit for taking in her three kids. She never gives me credit for committing to taking care of her youngest for the rest of our lives. As well as taking care of him solo. Also, I've never had kids... so all this is very new and challenging to me.
She says I have to go to treatment to have my depression taken care of and I need to get off suboxone. I went to a clinician and they said I don't have depression. She thinks I have depression simply because I'm miserable in my relationship and that what she sees. And I told her that and she said, "I can't make you have depressive symptoms. You were in the bed until 1pm today!" Yeah I was in the "bedroom" today until 1pm, because I didn't want to be around you nagging me to do something or calling me a liar or telling me I'm mentally ill!
She says our marital problems are 100% on me and I need to get off suboxone and take care of my mental illness and stop lying to her.
I said... we are equal contributors to our marital problems and we should go to marriage counseling and let a professional direct us on what to work on.
She told me that she's the perfect wife and that it feels wrong going to marriage counseling because she's just giving in to my gaslighting and I need to fix my problems first as they are the main contributor to oir issues. She says the problems she exhibits would not have our marriage to the point of divorce.
I'm the one that mentioned divorce. She said she doesn't want one. I love her and I don't want one but I can't continue living like this.
Her solution is for me to move out the house and to get better so she can heal.
I don't want to do that.
I told her I won't do that and we may as well just get a divorce. She's literally baffled because she 100% thinks I'm fully to blame for our issues. I'm pissed she doesn't realize that a marriage is a two-way street and we are equally to blame for where it's at currently.
Should I leave the house and give her the separation? Is there any other compromise that might work? Should I run and never look back and start the divorce process?
Any insight or opinions would be greatly appreciated.

Now that the Tish saga is done, it's time to move on to our landlord's retribution. This is a long one because I don't want to divide the story. TL;DR at the end.
Hubby and I lived in this apartment complex from 2016-2019. Until 2018, the apartment next to Tish's was rented by a Dominican couple who (apart from the Colosseum they erected in their living room every weekend for televised boxing matches) were very nice. So, Hubby and I were kind of bummed when the couple decided that they'd had enough of our complex. They came home one day to find at their doorstep a big-ass rat the size of a cat snacking merrily on some KFC bones that had dropped from Tish's garbage can. I would also argue that the couple probably found it hard to sleep with Tish's headboard slapping against their bedroom wall all weekend long (cue Vybez Kartel & Spice).
We were further disappointed when we realized they were being replaced by a mother and her two daughters. It's not that I don't like kids. I just that Jay wasn't exactly a model for confidence.
The family was quiet and timid, but it was clear they had problems. Big problems. According to what Tina would tell me in "casual" conversations in the laundry room, she had once sat upon her parents’ very high pedestal and - by her own account - had been violently shoved from that pedestal when she found herself pregnant with her first daughter. She'd tried to climb another very high pedestal and managed to stay there long enough to marry and have her second child, but "the cheating dog" had kicked Tina from the apex of prosperity to the pits of impoverishment once more. Heavy shit for laundry room talk.
But, it was hard to sympathize with Tina. The girls, unfortunately, seemed to understand all too well that they were Tina’s “burden”. The teenager (Mel) was ferrety and surly - which some would say is normal for a 15yo - but do 15yos spank their own sisters? Not fight - spank. As a parent would. And the 8yo, while sweet, tore through boundaries like acrylic nails through cheap toilet paper.
Tish immediately hated Tina because there was only enough room in this complex for one shit show at a time. Every time I saw Tish and Tina pass one another around the complex, the air would grow cold and the birds would flee to the West.
But, Tish and Jay left not long after Tina and her girls moved in. If y’all are looking for the catfight of the century, I am so sorry, but I must disappoint you. Jay's father returned from graduate school and got primary custody of Jay. That meant Tish was no longer entitled to child support, and she couldn't afford the apartment anymore. Hubby and I sacrificed a goat to the Most High in gratitude.
But then a few weeks after Tish and Jay left, Hubby and I noticed strange noises coming from the apartment upstairs. It should have been empty, but we heard chairs dragging against the floor at all hours of the evening. I called our landlord and asked if anyone had moved in, but she told us, "No."
"But there is someone upstairs," I told her. She dismissed me. Said there was no one up there.
Then why, only a few nights after that, was the security gate to Tish's old apartment open? And why were the lights on?
I called our landlord, but our landlord told me to take it easy, which was nice speak for "Leave me alone, you paranoid dumbfuck.”
Well, Hubby was sure some hobo was shacking up in Tish’s old apartment, which was highly likely considering where we lived. Our former apartment complex rests within one of the only remaining residential nooks in a fast-growing bacchanal city. On the street to the north is a string of touristy restaurants. On the street to the south is the sleaziest bar in five miles, and on the street to the right was a brothel masquerading as an AirBnB. It never once crossed my mind that the girls in 6-inch heels, batty riders, and lashes out to Wednesday walking up and down the road at 1:00 a.m. might were “working”…
Anyway, Hubby decided to go check on the apartment upstairs, and lo - the security gate and front door were both unlocked. Hubby figured Tish or our landlord must have left the doors open by accident, which allowed whoever the hell it was dragging chairs over our heads to enter the vacant apartment. I passed this knowledge on to our landlord, who assured me that she’d send a locksmith to change the locks.
It was an evening after the locksmith changed the locks that Hubby and I came home late to find ourselves face-to-face with the intruder upstairs. At the door to Tish’s old apartment was Mel. With her was a man who, though young, was clearly older than Mel, picking at the security gate lock.
When Mel saw us, she jumped so high she nearly took down some shingles from the roof. The young man, however, bid us a very cordial good evening. Then, he finished picking the locks to the doors and entered the apartment. Yes, my dear people. Mel had broken into the apartment upstairs and set up camp.
You better believe I called my landlord and told her about what we’d just seen. She was shocked. Was I sure that’s who I’d seen breaking into the apartment? Mel was such a mannerly, mature young woman. It must have been someone else! I guess I wasn't just a paranoid dumbfuck, but a blind one as well.
Anyway, a few days later, Mel and Tina started moving furniture into Tina’s apartment. They didn't say anything to us when they saw us. I wondered if I was the bad guy, but Hubby said no: I should call our landlord and report.
"Oh, don't worry about that. I told Tina that Mel could camp out there for a while."
What?
Well, friends, what happened was that our landlord called Tina to confront her about Mel breaking into the apartment. But then Tina told our landlord about her recent fall from grace and then lamented about the horrors of parenting a teenager all alone in a one-bedroom apartment. She cried so much that our landlord decided to make a deal. For $200 a month, Tina could rent the empty apartment for Mel under the condition that when a new tenant was found Mel would move out.
Okay, fine, I thought. If that's how you want to run your apartments, that's up to you. I'll stay out of your business next time.
And that's just what I did when I came home from work one day to find an American couple dressed in bathing suits trying to open the gate to the complex.
And I continued to do so the week after that when Hubby saw Mel cleaning the apartment while three Australian ladies grilled by the complex pool.
But, one night when a hooker knocked on our door, I'd had enough.
At first, I tried to give Tina and Mel the benefit of the doubt. Maybe this was something they had worked out with the landlord. Maybe this was actually the landlord playing her hand at AirBnB. So, I worded my texts carefully. Asked our landlord if she'd found a new tenant, since we'd seen some new people in the complex. If she'd been trying out short-term renting since so we noticed so many tourists roaming the complex. If she knew that there were strange people coming in and out every week. No reply.
Turns out we weren't the only tenants concerned - and ignored. Two of our other neighbors had also tried to contact our landlord to tell her about the strange tourists hanging bathing suits all over the fences and ordering "fair" company in the apartment above us. Our landlord, however, never responded to any of us. Didn't even blue tick.
By the time frat boys started renting the apartment, Hubby and I had had enough. We found a new apartment and gave notice. Oddly enough, our landlord got that message as soon as I sent it. She didn't bother asking us why we were moving out, and I didn't push the matter. I didn't even make a fuss when she didn't give us our security deposit back. In my city, it's rare you get that back anyhow.
But then a month later, I got a call from our old landlord. She said she'd assessed the apartment and found no damages, so she had our security deposit ready for us. I mean, money is money, and that was our money, so Hubby and I set a date to meet the landlord at the old place.
Our landlord was oddly chatty when we arrived. At first, we thought she was just excited because she was finally giving the complex a much-needed facelift. But then she started talking about Tina.
[Dramatization below]
Landlord: "Do you remember Tina?"
Hubby looks at me. I look at Hubby. “Of course."
Landlord: "Well, she doesn't live here anymore."
Crickets.
Landlord: "I evicted her."
Quizzical eyebrows.
Landlord: "You won't believe what she was doing."
Side eye-side eye.
Landlord: "Well, she was running an AirBnB! In the apartment right above you!"
Pikachu gasp: "No!"
Apparently, after we left, the landlord came to assess our apartment. When she entered the complex, who did she happen to run into?
A British couple in their bathing suits.
They asked her if she knew where the beach was, and the landlord gave them the directions in exchange for a glimpse at the AirBnB listing they'd contracted.
There it was - Tish's old apartment rented out at $800 a week!!! Take away the $200 a month Tina had arranged to rent the apartment, that was a $3000 profit!
The landlord confronted Tina, and as Tina packed her bags under the close supervision of a police officer, Tina railed on and on about how our landlord was being so cruel to a single mother. How could a fellow woman deny Tina the right to make a living for her girls? No one was using the apartment anyway! She'd sue, she sue for squatter's rights! She was a single mother!!!
So ends the Tina tale, but we have some extra credits. Our landlord realized how lucrative the AirBnB business could be, so she evicted all of the tenants and renovated the complex to open it up for short-term renting. That all came to an end when a 17yo boy drowned in the pool and the family sued the landlord for negligence.
All's well that end's well, eh?
TL;DR: Neighbor breaks into an empty apartment, manages to weasel the landlord into renting it to her for $200/month, and then sublets it on AirBnB for $800 a week!

TW: Animal abuse and murder attempt
When I was a kid, my mom did horrible, horrible things to me and our pets, but the below was one of the worst. I still think about it sometimes even now, as a full-grown adult who no longer lives with her and has a separate life on the other side of the country. It just still bothers me, and I think it always will. Sometimes I even have nightmares about it, though they’re much less frequent now.
I shared this story on another post recently and have been dwelling on it periodically throughout the day, so I figured I’d create a separate post as well, just to try to get it off my chest. This memory is just really weighing heavily on me today. I hope no one minds the copy and paste.
Anyway, what happened was my mom drowned one of our newborn kittens by putting it in the washing machine with her clothes. She insisted it was an accident, but then that “accident” happened again. And I think again. I lost track of how many she drowned, honestly. Living in that house was like being in a horror movie that wouldn’t end.
What I do remember, crystal clear, was her calling me over to look at the poor kitten’s wet, lifeless body and her laughing about it, as if what she’d done was a hilarious joke. She was SO HAPPY about killing the kitten and hurting me (cats have always been my favorite animal). I can’t think of any way to describe her attitude except for maybe “delighted” or “pleased.”
I wasn’t the sort of kid to raise my voice or get agitated over things, but killing animals crossed the line. I remember me screaming at her and calling her a murderer, a killer. She was absolutely shocked at my reaction—I think in her evil, twisted mind, she’d expected me to be sad and cry, but not get angry, because I was usually such a quiet kid. I don’t think she could even fathom that anyone would get upset over her killing an animal, as though animals are no more important than plants or rocks, or something.
I remember I also said something like, “What’s wrong with you? You’re a monster! You should have died, not them! You deserved to die, not them!” And since she had blithely moved on to chopping vegetables or meat for dinner as though nothing had happened, she had a knife in her hand. When I screamed those things at her, she got angry and whirled on me, chasing me through the house with the knife, trying to stab me. I think she was saying “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you for that!”
Thank the Lord I made it to my bedroom and was able to brace myself against the door and hold it shut. To this day, I don’t know how she wasn’t able to force the door open. I was a kid, maybe 8 or 9, so logically, there’s no way I should’ve been able to hold it shut on my own. She got the door open a couple inches a couple times, and I saw the blade of the knife as she stabbed through the opening to try to get me, but thankfully, she missed and I was able to slam the door shut again. And I heard the scrabbling of metal as she tried to stab me through the closed door, but thankfully, she couldn’t get through. Thank God.
I stayed braced against the door for what felt like an hour or so, too terrified to move. I never buried the animals, unfortunately, as another animal I’d buried at my father’s house had been dug up by wild animals due to the grave being too shallow, and I knew I wasn’t strong enough to dig a properly deep grave on my own. I later found the kittens in the kitchen trash can.

I have been talking to a guy from about a month maybe a little longer. We have been on a couple of dates and we’re supposed to go on one yesterday. Long story short he sent me a text the night before asking if I wanted to go out. I was confused as we had already made plans to go out days prior. He then told me that his friend was borrowing his bike and that he might not get it back in time but still wanted to see me. I then offered to pick him up using my car as I didn’t mind. We talked back and forth for awhile flirting and then said goodnight. The next day he tells me a couple of hours before that his friend had an accident and he had to take him to the hospital and he doesn’t think he’d be able to make it. He keeps me updated on the situation of him friend and say at one point they were doing tests to rule of concussion around other things since he hit his head. All I replied was “that’s good” he read it and never replied to me. If I am being honest I have a lot of trauma and ptsd from my last serious relationship as he was abusive so I have a lot of doubt and can’t believe people easily. I feel like he is lying and just isn’t interested in me anymore but doesn’t want to outright say it and that text about going out was meant for another girl. It’s now the next day and almost 4pm I haven’t messaged him today because I want him to talk to me first but he hasn’t still. I feel like I’m being led on and shouldn’t waste my time if I’m not the #1 option. Any advice is appreciated