#grandma is dead and my aunt looks at me saying dont move me just leave

[kulfigf]

im going to rant abt arranged marriage a bit below the cut, pls dont rb but feel free to read :3

ik like people say that talking about arranged marriage in an inherently derogative way is "racist", but like living through it, it must be known that there's not a day of my life that goes by without it hanging over my fucking head. it's a circling, never-resolving, horrible conversation i have with my mother almost everyday and it makes me sick with anger and anxiety.

i am the oldest of all grandkids, and i am a girl. and that sucks dick because as a muffinmuncher i am literallly just waiting for the day I will have to come out to my family. like i dont have a choice -- it's either that i refuse to tell them and have to deal with years and years of them badgering me to get married and them questioning my worth as a person, or submitting and marrying a guy. no, im not getting forcibly abducted and made to marry, but the "choice" i have is not a choice since it comes with fucking Terms and Conditions.

i have a second cousin who is not married -- she's in her mid-30s and she's not some flourishing careerwoman, shes just a regular lady, but every family event is hell for her. i know this because she's the "black smear" in the family for not being married despite her "age". my family likes to regard themselves as being "respectful" so they will not stoop to name-calling but what they do is actually fucking worse. they are convinced, my mom included, that she is deeply, truly unhappy and lonely. whether or not she is none of our godamm business but the fact that it is attributed to the fact that she isnt married to a proper christian boy is aggravating.

i am a hundred percent sure that this will be done to me the day that i refuse -- all these people who have met me only once a year will talk about my supposed unhappiness. my mother warns me about this unhappiness all the time -- "you say all this now, but you dont know how unhappy you'll be when you dont have someone to live your life with". and the truth is I will be unhappy because i will have to risk losing many people i grew up loving and caring for -- i will be unhappy, and it will not be fixed by an arranged marriage.

my mom walked on eggshells around my dad's mom during the early years of their marriage. my grandma is treated like fucking shit by my grandpa and she grins and bears it all. my dad is an outlier simply because he does the groceries and the laundry, "feminist" ads on TV laud men for knowing to operate the washing machine -- how can i fucking expect that some fucker who is balding in his twenties will treat me with respect? ik that i will never marry but im so afraid that this is the reality that awaits some of my close friends.

in my old house, when i was barely five, my neighbours were these two girls who were high schoolers. when we moved out we kept in sparse touch, but we went to meet them when the oldest got married. i called her ramya akka; ramya was her name and akka is the honorific address for a woman older than you in the local language. she was incredibly bright -- they only had their mom and each other growing up so she knew how to run the house, she had to grow up early. i mustve loved her as a child and i remember her being like light. her groom was some guy who had scored a job in the united states, and the wedding was lavish. ramya akka had barely lifted her face from the floor, and my sisters and i marked that day as the day our childhood died.

a few years later when she flew back here, she was so quiet and dimmed. her green card hadnt been fully secured so she had spent the last year doing nothing. her husband was away from home most of the time, and she joked in a way that seemed sad to me -- "oh when im sick, he cant take care of me because he cant cook. he makes me a watery rice and daal and i leave the bed telling him that id rather do it myself". when she leaves, my grandma beams and tells me "god she was so ill-behaved as a kid, but look at her now she is so mature". it has been a couple of years since but i still cant recall the evening without wanting to cry.

in all ways except physical, ramya akka is dead and people not only let that happen, but they lauded her for it. many women kill themselves at the altar or the wedding mandap, and it's a death you have to do or else you will risk your respect and your face and your fucking dignity. it's a horror for a cishet woman, and it's a fucking ticking timebomb for queer ones. i know i will lose the relationship i have with my aunts, who i love dearly, the day that i tell them who i am. i should not have to live with this, no one should.

#im so fucking angry sorry for the rant #this is why being in my 20s is a nightmare because this is what awaits me and i want to stop growing up #mine #ask to tag moots

[freebooter4ever]

my dad group texted my brother and i, highly unusual, and i think jordan was weirded out too cause his response was equally short and confused. on the list of things my little brother and i have never discussed, our dad’s relative interest or lack there of in our lives is pretty high. dad’s been messaging me since october, asking about stuff like where my next living plans are (which he has never done since i first moved out age eighteen), and i’ve only been vaguely responding to the point blank questions cause its just. so. weird. i think my grandpa’s death has shaken dad’s worldview a bit more than he’s been letting on.

he alienated my brother and i pretty much immediately after his secretive marriage to the bottle blonde rich bitch when i was 22. he kicked my brother out as soon as jordan turned 18, and when i discovered this by coming home one summer and seeing jordan wasnt in the house, i got so fucking mad that it was the first time i ever had a full out screaming match at my dad. and apparently this display of anger was when rich bitch decided she didn’t like me (probably valid, but also ironic because pretty much from birth it was known in my entire extended family that dad and i were almost identical personality wise, and both of us have tempers where we will not get mad at anything but frustration will build up and up until on the rare blue moon it boils over, and oh boy. watch out. those moments were the only times i was ever scared of my dad as a kid and i think it only happened twice in my entire life)(if she thinks im crazy when im angry, she should see my dad)

but i was crazy mad because while i was lucky enough to be put in therapy due to attempting to starve myself into non existence at age 13 (many many sessions of ‘family’ therapy with me in the center of a long couch silently trying to pretend i was invisible and my mom two feet away at one end and dad on the opposite end of the couch, and my mom doing all the talking, ranting and raving about how im starving myself to punish her. and then the therapist kicking both my parents out and trying to convince me to say a few words, and her finally getting me to realize that how my mom treated me was not normal and not something i needed to put up with if it made me sad and scared, and then the therapist realizing that i was still too sad and scared to confront it, and her and i coming up with a compromise where we would tell my mom that i was just ‘really attached’ to dad’s house and it wasnt that i was terrified of living with my mom or liked my dad better, it was that i just really liked living in one place instead of out of a suitcase and moving every week), and so had both the therapist and my dad supporting me when at fourteen i finally said enough was enough and demanded that my dad get full custody so i didnt have to spend every other week with my abusive mother anymore - while i got out of that situation, my brother didnt. i tried, he knew that it was my decision to live full time with dad and i made it clear he could do the same, but just as it was a given that i was identical to dad’s personality, my brother was identical to mom’s so i think he was more attached to her than i was. either way, he always refused and insisted on continuing to live between both of them. after i hit driving age, my dad transferred responsibility to me for shuttling my brother to and from my dad’s house to my mom’s apartment. dad’d lock himself in his room, or go to the gym, and i’d turn on an endless rotation of star wars movies for jordan and i to watch before i had to take him to his next week’s place (phantom menace was our favorite cause darth maul was just cool ok, dont judge).

anyway, the last day i ever stayed at my moms house, my brother was there. and i must have been twenty or twenty one because he would have only been around seventeen. but even at seventeen he was well over six foot five cause he got all the height in the family which was totally not fair but thats besides the point. so while i was there my mom flew into one of her alcohol induced rages, and took it all out on my brother. i had intellectually figured that all the anger my mom used to take out on me had then transferred to my brother once i stopped living there every other week, but up until that point i hadn’t actually seen it. she started shoving him, and punching him, and not enough so it would hurt much, because as i said he was well over six feet and she was barely five six, so he could pretty well block any thing she dished out. but he was cornered, and he looked scared. and i was hiding useless on the stairwell, crying, and begging mom to stop. and it only stopped cause jordan managed to slip out the front door and once he escaped mom went back into the kitchen, still yelling and angry. and i took the chance to grab my school bag and leave in solidarity. and my brother and i stood there awkwardly on the porch, me still crying, and him smoking and trying to look cool and not like he just got chased out of the apartment by a woman half his size. and i promised him we wouldnt go back until she calmed down, and that she was being unreasonable and he didnt deserve any of it, and id figure out somewhere to go. and we started walking down the sidewalk, but not together because we were never that close. he wandered off somewhere to smoke. and that’s as far as i remember.

this day came up in conversation with my grandma in the months after grandpa’s death, during one of our many three am can’t sleep conversations in grandma’s kitchen (grandma would wake up, i’d hear her get out of bed and wake up too. she’d make herself tea and eat some graham crackers and we’d sit together at the table feeling the third empty chair like an ache). grandma brought it up, because apparently, even though i cant remember this at all, i had my no/kia brick phone in my school bag (a minor miracle because i hated carrying around cell phones for the longest time), and i actually called grandma. and grandpa and her came to pick me up, and they found me sitting on a wall a block away from my mom’s apartment, and then we drove around till we found jordan, and then we all went back to my grandparent’s house. after bringing this up, grandma then, completely unprompted, told me something that child me thought about regularly - she said that even though her mom died when she was 8, leaving her to help raise her two younger siblings, grandma thought in some ways it was easier than what my brother and i went through with the divorce and my mom leaving. i used to regularly - not wish my mom dead, exactly - but wish i could pretend she was dead, rather than her just not being there anymore. especially since, when i was suddenly thrown into being her sole emotional and physical punching bag now that dad wasn’t filling the role anymore, a lot of the times being around her post divorce was not a good thing. (I cut off all contact with my mom finally at age 25 and haven’t looked back)

so yeah, i was fucking pissed that i had worked so hard to try to mitigate the damage i caused by leaving jordan alone with my mom for pretty much the entirety of my high school years...only to have my dad kick him out barely a few years after i left for college and thus putting my brother at my mom’s mercy. ostensibly my dad kicked my brother out because of his drug addictions, but my brother was the most mild mannered addict i’ve ever known. the worst thing he ever did was steal a couple hundred dollars from me, but he never got violent, he never got angry. other people got angry at him. my aunt once tried to fight him in a hospital elevator because he sold my cousin heroin or meth or some shit and my cousin ended up impaling a knife in his chest in front of my grandma, which is a whole nother story. but jordan was only nineteen when that happened. my cousin? thirty six. and a long time violent and angry drug addict with a record (he threw a book at his professor’s head and got kicked out of grad school while on cocaine once, which is how he ended up back in washington state and needing a new drug dealer - hence my brother suddenly getting involved) (same cousin later flew into a drug fueled rage in his forties and almost beat his girlfriend to death) (my brother was long since clean by then and had nothing to do with our cousin getting drugs at that point)

all this to say my dad’s rich bitch new wife didn’t think a drug addict and mentally ill artist fit into her picture perfect family, so dad started making it clear we were not welcome at family functions unless we complied with very strict rules. ironically, jordan was let back into the fold first partially because i can hold a grudge for a very long time and i was very very terrified of my mom and dad was the sane stable one and i had trusted him to take care of everything even without me there and dad had failed pretty spectacularly at that. im still bitter at my dad for his secret marriage and subsequent moving into her million dollar mansion and throwing my brother out. but also partially because jordan started following all of dad’s rules, got himself cleaned up (he moved in with his girlfriend, and i think being out of mom’s house had a lot to do with getting over his addictions), started studying computer science, found a really good software engineering job, suddenly dad approved of him. i also partially antagonized rich bitch wife by doing silly things like wearing black leather pants and the most provocative clothes i owned whenever i went over to their house. rich bitch was a very simple narrow minded person with a lot of prejudices. i imagine i was not seen as a good influence on her two younger daughters. and eventually they stopped seeing me altogether. even when i was living in washington for all of 2017 - the only time i ever saw dad was when he’d come visit my grandparents alone. the day before i took grandma on the train to move to ohio, we were supposed to all have dinner together at our family’s favorite place to eat out - crossroads mall - and the rich bitch refused to show up. that’s how petty she is. she also is so dumb she’s under the delusion that kids get into drugs if they don’t have dogs (????) so that’s why she forced my dad to get a dog for her spoiled brat youngest when the girl went into high school. my dad dislikes animals, so i will say one of the highlights of this marriage is seeing my dad become a dog person. the rich bitch and her daughters mostly ignore the dog, but my dad is so attached to max that he even lets the little puppy sit in his lap while driving. anyway, anyone who thinks dogs are the sole answer to preventing drug addictions can go to hell.

yeah, blah blah blah, to sum up its WEIRD for my dad to suddenly be texting my brother and i unprompted, and asking me about my life and my plans. i dont really know how to deal. i miss him. he was always the closest person in my life to the point where even when i moved away for college, i still assumed after i graduated i’d just move back in with dad so it was only four years being gone, cause why would i ever want to live anywhere else?. i kept thinking if i could hit some level of success that he would approve of, that maybe eventually i could become somebody his rich bitch wife would associate with. but that never happened, obviously. 

#journal shit #christmas is family time right????

[jadecringecomp]

jade, of course, is still trying to deflect rather than own up to anything at all. im too lazy for screenshots so youre going to have to deal with text for this one. you can see their post here though. and if receipts are needed they are most likely on the callout blog or you can come to me if you cant find them.

“uses their own dead grandma as leverage out of nowhere literally months after the original argument”

jade are you really that braindead. like youre still just proving my previous point. youre still practically shitting on me for it. i gave a reason as to why that night was so traumatic for me because you keep trying to make it seem “like it wasnt that bad” by your own words!

also like uh, jade. you yourself have used your aunt having cancer as a reason to just... excuse every single action youve done. so again, take that and choke.

“abuses their own bf/ex but its fine because he abused her first lolololol!!!”

jade i... honestly have no words. youre still defending a pedophile, and you even admit he abused me. like, yes, i cheated on him. but how does the fact he is a pedophilic abuser not process through your head. why are you so set on defending that. a genuine question.

“flips back and forth on whether they were actually abused or not whenever it benefits her“

theres... nowhere that even says that in the link you posted. are you posting that to still try and imply i lied about the abuse you inflicted upon me or...?

“refriends their own ‘abuser’”

ok well one jade, you still have no actual proof ive befriended broden at all. all you have is a like on a fucking post. really how braindead is it possible to be at this point.

and regarding bailey, i never called her my abuser. you were the one to do that. you said she abused me after i showed you screenshots of what went down between us. and whats worse after i even came to you and showed you the screenshots and you got involved with that mess?? you still wanna try and say what happened was fake. like you wanna call me two-faced, yet youre so quick to change your mind once you realize that person doesnt benefit you anymore. 

also! for someone whos a survivor of abuse, you sure as hell dont realize a common thing between us survivors is literally going back to those who’ve hurt them right?? like you keep bringing this up as if im fucking lying about the whole thing when im not since again, i came to you while we were friends with the proof. i can even post them if need be. and honestly it doesnt even fucking matter anymore ive broken contact with her after shortly realizing my mistake.

“denies other ppls abuse just because they doesnt like them and a few vent discord messages means they knows literally everything abt it“

i can admit to saying i denied your abuse because there is actual proof that you werent abused two years ago, not because i dont like you. do you really just think nobody will believe proof right in front of them jade??? do you think youre some perfect princess who can do no wrong???? like jade the proof is right @deeancie, @estweri, @honeykeis-callout, and even here. you really expect me to just not believe it if i didnt hate you. you honestly need some real fucking help if thats the case jade.

and really like. if you say your bf clams up when you go to him... what else am i supposed to believe. sure i can be wrong, but reading that shit can really make you wonder what is going on between you two. and jade you wanna say that like you yourself dont do that shit. remember all the times you read vague text posts and would go on a tangent as if you knew every little thing about what was going on in my life. yeah kinda what i thought.

“says grooming minors is talking to people One time“

i love how you fail to leave out the fact that these people were minors and that youre practically defending loli. so if youre still talking to these minors and since youre still defending loli, then yes youre grooming minors into thinking loli is ok.

“straight up let a minor into their porn server on discord (they can go as rabid about this as they want but they still straight up showed an actual minor graphic porn but IM a pedophile bc i rb anime sometimes lmfao)”

again its been resolved. like ive acknowledged it was wrong of me to do and ive changed it. and how can you say you just rb anime sometimes when. you literally are reblogging this kind of fuckshit. like do you not remember reblogging that obviously naked child in a collar or what. the difference is i realized my wrong and changed it while youre still rbing actual loli.

“lied about the relationship (the one where they abused each other and she cheated on him with her other abuser???) having elements of pedophilia because they lied about her age”

this is so... ive told you i forgot. the ages. i was literally an age off for the both of us. like what else do you want me to do about this.

“has sketchy as fuck ocs, including one thats physically ten who would force their adult self insert to be naked around them and also drew them being physically beaten“

while the first was true (but i dont have that oc anymore), where in the fuck did i draw them being physically beaten lole??? are you pulling this out of your ass to deflect you yourself rbing beaten children????

and i swear to god if you bring up this comic, im going to scream.

“is a stalker and an abuser. by their own logic“

ok like. a couple of things to this. jade when are you going to get it through your thick skull i didnt give a shit if you were lurking or not, it was the fact you would comment on my every move. which is stalking by the way and incredibly creepy like get a life!

and an abuser “by my own logic”. the link you shared, again, doesnt show that anywhere. also with how badly of a hypocrite you are, thats you. you told me it was abusive to call people delusional. you started doing that once i realized my wrong and stopped. you told me it was abusive. you told me making people relapse was abusive. yet once i relapse you still didnt give a shit and somehow that makes you in the clear (though i still dont give a shit we both literally did that to ourselves the point is youre an abuser too to your own logic). you said trying to gaslight people is abusive (which it is). look at the stacks of proof i have of you gaslighting me. like i could go on but all the proof if here on this blog.

“oh and dont forget they foamed at the mouth that i didnt instantly know when they changed their pronouns but has been proven to have Actually knowingly misgendered me for weeks“

jade the fact you were lurking should make it fucking obvious you should have known my pronouns. and for weeks?? jade i misgendered you in your callout, which i immediately changed once pointed out. will you please stop lying to make yourself look victim and just tell the truth for once in your life.

“also apparently i can call them rae and its not deadnaming because its not their birthname so“

oh my god youre literally fucking braindead it hurts to watch at this point. no rae isnt my deadname. but i do prefer not going my that. the whole point of that was that you tried screaming transphobia because someone called you by a previous name you went by. you fucking dumbass.

“claims to have bpd but doesnt even know what cluster b is holy shit!!!“

what do i even say to this jade?? what does the fact i didnt know what that was at first matter to me having bpd??? also are you just gonna shrug off the fact that you first claimed you got misdiagnosed with autsim, then suddenly you do? you claimed to have bipolar disorder, then later you suddenly decide you have bpd??? kind of sketchy if you ask me!

“tries to send anons under my name but forgot that their friend levi doesnt even have me blocked so why the fuck would i go on anon if i would ‘sign’ it anyway hm“

a....... are you implying i was the one to send those....? is it because you realized once you did so it backfired?? jade for someone who wanted to claim i was the one making up conspiracies, you sure make up a lot of them.

in conclusion: jade you still are just deflecting! you still havent defended any of the shit me or my friends have called you out for! the fact you still havent admitted to them or so much as even defended the claims sure does speak a lot! stop deflecting and lying and just fucking come out about it!

#gaslighting #lying

[kitsuhe]

i wanna rant about my shitty grandparents (mostly grandfather for now) and how my parents didnt deserve any of this.

a side story of how my parents met: my mom was from China and worked in a cafe (with lodging) for years. she wanted to leave china because the marriage laws werent very good to women, they didnt have a lot of rights, and people can just get married and divorced on a whim, and so a marriage there would make her feel very insecure.

she saw loads of men with fancy motorcycles they probably borrowed flirting with the waitresses and getting them pregnant even though some of those men were married already. she saw loads of waitresses in and out of the job, and so she willed to never give in to the flirtations and worked at the cafe till she was around 26.

my father’s boss was in that area once in a while and frequented that cafe. he noticed my mom who always remained there and was like hey she seemed to be a nice woman and so he introduced her to his son, aka my fathers colleague.

according to my mom, the son was a wishy-washy man who couldnt make up his mind. they went for a few dates and things werent really clicking. my father, however, said ‘i want her’ when he saw her and so the choice was made, they started dating, and she went back to china for the time being. they then maintained a long distance relationship with phone calls, and one year later she came to singapore and got married. 

cute, right?

then the in-laws hell, aka my grandparents begun.

and now my father’s backstory, first:

he was the classic example of the scapegoat i think. out of his siblings (an older brother, a younger brother, and a younger sister), he was the one my grandparents hated the most. ‘hated’ isnt even an exaggeration, apparently hey did tell him explicitly that he was the one they hated the most. A+ parenting yall. when in school, while his siblings get 50cents and 30cents (in order of favouritism), he got 20cents or none. they didnt care about the education of their kids, and so my dad dropped out at P3 (9 years old) and the others all within primary school age. my aunt may have went further though, im not sure.

when he started working at 13, my grandma would wait at the door everytime he got his salary and took all of it away. i dont think he got to keep any of it. she gambled quite often and spent loads of money.

it was from these incredibly unfair xperiences on childhood that my dad swore he would treat and spoil his kids and not show favouritism.

my parents got married years later, and basically everyone in my extended family h a t e d my mom, despite it being entirely non-justified because my mom is a freaking wonderful woman who isnt afraid of hardwork. Because my mom came from china, im presuming that its some mixture of xenophobia and racism that made them say that my mom was only here to mooch off my dad, and treat her like shit, until they didnt as they finally opened their eyes.

over here, all men have to go through compulsory national serivce, and my dad was no exception. after serving the 2 years they have to go back periodically for reservist training. this is the background info for this incident im going to repeat from my mother.

after she got married over here, my dad still had to go for reservist training. they only had a limited amount of time to use the phone after one entire week. my mom called him, talked to him as his wife, before uncle2 (the younger brother) interruppted her and told her to stop using the phone. assuming that he had an emergency,  my mom quickly finished and hung up, my dad losing his rare few minutes to talk to his wife.

then uncle2 didnt use the phone.

god fucking damn it.

an example of unfair treatment: uncle1 had a different wife at that time. while my mom cooked entire meals for the family (they were living with my grandparents and uncle2 and probably aunt at that time) while being pregnant, when it came to be her birthday, my grandma didnt give her a red packet (gift of money). ‘im an old woman who hasnt worked for years, i have no money’.

then when it came to uncle1′s wife, who had never cooked any food and only got takeaways when she visited, she got a big shiny red packet from my grandma.

yeah, what the hell. my mom said she was very upset about this and cried. god, she was surrounded by people who hated her and yet she still worked so hard for them, she genuinely doesnt deserve this.

heres another thing about my grandma: apparently she gambled so often she oftently went to genting to gamble and the money all came from her kids. yeah. .

(my dads a chef, uncle1 is a mechanic, uncle2 is a part timer with no set jobs, and aunt is unknown.)

then i was born. my mom wasnt a citizen, and had to pay a lot of money to stay in the most expensive hospital word. the rare good thing my grandpa did was to fork out $2000 for her to have me. one day, if i can and he isnt dead yet, i will pay him back. ‘thats your coffin money’ i will say. ‘im not obligated to you anymore please leave my life forever’ i want to say.

looking back at the thick stack of photo albums, things appeared to be all happy and fun. people were smiling in the pictures, and i was showered in love and affection from everyone. it is only recently that i came to learn of the shit my parents went through under them.

i was also a lively and boisterous child who had no concept of day and night, it was almost enough to scare my parents into not having my siblings. nonetheless, my sister came into existence.

picture this: my dad looking all frazzled and tired as he took care of a wild toddler at the hospital without sleeping for 3 days straight, and my mom in labour, waiting to give birth. the nurse asked why wasnt anyone there to help out? 

my mom said that was the only time she had ever seen my dad cry. my sister, my mom, and i all teared up as she recounted this.

it was then they swore to move out and not to rely on anyone ever again. the house i am in now is paid entirely by my parents.

my sister was born, and eventually, they moved out before my brother was born.

when they moved out, my grandma shouted at them ‘dont come back! i hope you die!’

at one point, or perhaps distance made the heart grow fonder, my grandparents and uncles started to treat my mom very nicely, realising that they were utterly wrong to judge and treat her that way at the beginning. thats why they treat her so nicely now, my mom explained. it is also the reason why my grandma always brought kuehs and chocolate cake over when she visited, subsequently developing my dislike of chocolate cake and neutrality towards chocolate at best. at this point im pretty sure they all like my mom more than my dad.

my aunt learnt her lesson in the form of receiving discrimination and hatred she once showed to my mom upon being married to a family of university graduates, and her only graduating secondary school. she wasnt as well-educated, and so after sharing my moms pain of being the hated daughter in law she finally learnt empathy and started being nice.

my grandpa too was a convert. he came over everyday to help out with chores and to take care of us. perhaps when we were all young the help was truly needed back then, but then some events made everyone question his motives...

i remember him fetching me from kindergarten every day every time. i wondered why my dad never did, and was happy on the occasions he did. it is only years later that i learnt that my grandpa hogged all those times to fetch us (my siblings and i). he outright refused to let my parents especially my dad to fetch us. on the occasions that my dad came, he threw a tantrum and went home. my dad was visibly upset as he recount this to us. ‘it felt like he was keeping my kids away from me’ he said. he has taken so much from my dad, and now even his kids???? im so upset on his behalf??

it genuinely feels like hes controlling everyone around him.

he is still coming over every single day, and from what i can tell he is incredibly passive aggressive and can never be satisifed with my dad. i dread his arrival.

for example, he refuses to eat anything my dad cooked. my dad, a known chef. once my dad made a noodle dish for dinner, he told my dad oh i cant eat noodles for dinner.

cue him eating the noodles my mom cooked for dinner.

cue him getting noodles for takeaway for dinner.

these days whenever my dad cooks for dinner we just give him money for takeaway.

speaking of leaving that ungrateful old bastard money, he also takes issue with my dad for this somehow. my dad left a note saying that thats his dinner money on the table, and he felt that it was so disrespectful he went to my moms workplace which is near where he lives and complained to her.

meanwhile my mom did the exact same thing and he had zero complaints.

when my dad fell asleep in my brothers room with my brother in it, he walked in and deliberately talked at the top of his lungs about some trivial matter that never came up in the years of living here.

the creepy amount of adoration he shows my mom is also apparent in how he would follow my tired sweaty mom after shes home from work  everywhere to talk and yabber on about irrelevant things. she was obviously busy and wanted to be left alone, but hey that POS never cared about what anyone ever thought or wanted if its in conflict to what he wants. sometimes she had to close the door just to get him to leave her alone, and once he just opened the door and continued talking. my dad was enraged, he said he almost went to start a fight with him, and he would especially if my mom was in the midst of changing at the time.

once my dad brought him to the doctor. ‘so what did they say’ he would ask my dad repeatedly over and over again after seeing the doctor. ‘you are fine, and if anything happens the doctor will inform us to go to the hospital’.

he went to complain to my mom at her workplace that my dad was cursing at him to get in the hospital.

once he was nosey and opened up our mailbox, and when he found some letters addressed to my dad he slammed the pile of letters next to him on the sofa. wtf

god, its like no matter what my dad does he will NEVER be happy.

a while ago he lent his children money, and said oh its not lending hes giving them money with no strings attached, no interest at all. my dad took some for renovation, and this info will come into play later.

and so life continues on with his insistence to tidy and clean my house, with zero regards to anyones wishes. if someone so much as point out that he isnt doing something right, he would exaggerate his actions and ask and repeat.

heres the incident that triggered the Revelations:

my grandpa asked my sister if she still wanted a donut while holding it in his entire hand, as in his entire hand was clutched around the donut. visibly disgusted, my sister said no, she didnt want it. in an act of passive aggressiveness, he placed the donut and only the donut directly in the fridge. not on a plate no nothing.

my mom wrote him a note in response: my daughters are having national examinations soon, and my husband has to wake at 5am to go to work, and he doesnt have enough rest. it would be preferable if you do not make as much noise so they can study and rest properly. i am saying this here, it doesnt matter if you help with the chores or not, it is entirely up to you and we will not blame you if you choose to rest and watch tv instead. you will always have a meal and you dont need to worry about anything else. hope you can understand.

in response, he wrote back: i have read all your words, and there is no need to worry. from november, i will no longer be coming over. i want your husband to return me the renovation money. from: dumb dad (thats what he calls himself in notes)

first of fucking all: wow hes not even acknowledging that my dad is his son. second of all, hes using the money to control my parents and guilt them wtf

this incident got kinda big in the sense that my aunt got involved. my aunt, the golden child, called to stage an intervention.

she called my siblings and i privately, without my parents knowledge. she asked me:

‘are you aware that he has hearing issues and cannot tell that hes being loud?’

‘can you cope with his average noise level?’

‘is he actually disturbing you guys?’

of course i am aware. i am used to it. i am not sure why my mom wrote about the noisy part, could be the fact that he refused to let my dad rest. to which i answered:

‘yes i am aware, no he is not that noisy’

and in a nicer way, i told her ‘frankly the issue is his character, that he is a pos shit i cant stand and after knowing what he did to my parents especially my dad i dont want him in my life at all i dont want him to come over anyways’

‘how much would you say that its mostly his fault that there is conflict or is your dad making a big deal out of nothing?’

i bit my tongue and said its my grandpa 95% of the time. there are one or two occasions that i would say my dad is over reacting.

then she went on and on about how she has to balance both perspective and pick the best outcome, and there are two sides etc etc

what fucking two sides i wanted to ask. my parents literally did nothing wrong. he was the hand that clutched at the donut and squished it.

eventually, she yelled at him and to serious disappointment hes coming over again.

a little interlude about my aunt: she complained to my mom afterwards (im surrounded by snitches) that i am not very respectful about my grandpa, that i am lazy and didnt help around the house often (i tidied and cleaned my room frequently, and if my mom ask me to do chores i would. theres an agreement that i should just concentrate on my studies and she will take care of the chores). i stay in my room all the time and didnt come out when my relatives came over. (listen, theres nothing for me. my cousins are ur typical boys that i cant talk to, they hog the xbox and scream about fifa all the time, im not exactly interested in the adults conversations).

my mom defended me, yall. even my aunt has to concede that im a decent person.

and my mom told me she didnt actually agree with the way shes raising my cousins. they were told to never question my aunt and uncle, and their orders are orders. my parents didnt agree, they believed in reason. for everything they tell us to do, there is a legit reason behind it, and we can question them. my mom want us to do well so that she can prove that shes right all along.

my brother recall asking the cousins why my relatives didnt allow them to do certain things and they just shrugged.

well, thats a bet i am willing to participate in.

back to my grandpa.

my parents reasoning is that as compared to taking revenge and stop contacting him, they rather treat him decently no matter what, knowing deep down they has always did their best.

due to the way healthcare works here, my dad shouldered most of the hospital bill and healthcare when his parents were in the hospital. because #asianvalues, they never did thank him or appreciate him.

either my parents or my aunt said they are scared that if we do anything too drastic like refusing him to come here, he will go senile and demented. as he is now he has a clear enough mind to remain a dickbag to my dad.

well, i wasnt exactly close to him, or as close as he deluded himself to think. i wasnt exactly patient with him, in the sense that i kinda have to raise my voice to communicate with him pretty often. heres the complicated relationship between languages: he speaks mostly teochew, and some chinese. we are expected to understand him when he speaks chinese to get across something, but somehow when i speak my perfectly accurate chinese back at him he understands nothing. he will smile stupidly at me, nodding as if he understood.

you fake old man. you understood nothing. i dont want to bother. i am mean for saying this. i hate your pretenses. quit acting like you understand.the conversations between us are fruitless and useless and has zero point. just now, you saying while im eating dinner that ‘you should give me 50 dollars. look at me, i have nothing. ahahahahaha’

i ignored him, as my cold shoulders got colder.

‘your mother did give me $120, i actually have money. what a good girl’

just, what the fuck is he on about. why are you even asking me for money when you have it. this is the exact type of inane pointless conversations you have. i dont even want to dignify that with a response.

he went to my sister, 3 meters away from me, and said the exact same thing.

my sister: [turning her pockets inside out] i have no money

him, repeating what he said , and adding on ‘you are a good girl, your sister is bad, she didnt want to give me money’ 

what the fuck. hes still talking to us like we are 5. he always treat us like were 5. once i facepalmed and he told me not to do that i will give myself brain damage. i proceed to whack my forehead 4 times, each whack resounding loud and clear.

god, i really dont want to interact with him. theres guilt niggling at me that i shouldnt treat him like this, pretending he doesnt exist as much as possible. then i remember what he did to my dad, and also kinda my mom, and something in me says ‘he doesnt deserve a relationship with his grandchildren for treating his own son like this’.

god, how do i get him to understand that i dont want anything to do with him? that i hate him? i stop calling him ‘grandpa’, only referring to him as that. i dont greet him when he come over anymore.

a few days? weeks? ago he said as he walked out of my room: ‘i still love you the most.’

thats the problem aint it? favouritism. and we all know you favour my brother the most, which i dont mind. i want you to stop doting on me, i want you to pretend i dont exist too. not in the way where you blatantly talk and criticise someone to somebody in front of the person you are criticising. 

when is karma ever coming for you?

nothing but you mattered to you, you dipshit. you never cared about how others may feel. you always did things your own way, you treat people whatever the hell you want to.

i visited you in the hospital after the operation on your balls, you were so happy afterwards you gave me a $50. i still wish i hadnt visited, you disgusting person. i wish i can give you the $50 back, but i think, ill keep it. i will treat it as a woeful attempt to ‘reward’ me for my love and affections. i will keep the money knowing that your love is not returned. cruel of me, but so were you.

i dont think there will ever be a resolution. i wont cry at your funeral, i will try not to. i did for my grandma, but that was before i knew the truth.

my mom told me it is undeniable that my relatives all doted and loved me. i want to reject your love. i want the right to not be loved.

#peoplenal #welp that was McDepressing i want out #potential emotional abuse? #god i kinda teared up #im perfectly fine with people not reading this #its genuinely the longest thing ive ever written wtf it clocked at 3.6k words #lmao if i mentioned any of the bitcheatingcrackers things he do my friends be like your grandpa is weird #i had to take breaks to look a pictures of cats #sorry peanut you didnt deserve the tears

[in-a-trans-like-state]

so my xmas is pretty much over. it was ok 

under the cut is just me giving a blow by blow of my day trying to figure out my emotions. 

the morning was nice though i had problems sleeping and woke up about 2 to go back to sleep at 6 to get up at 8 and be tired all day. 

I made bacon and raspberry pancakes for my family’s brekkie and we opened presents over food. my dad decided it was a great time to collect all the food and cutlery he wanted from upstairs and take it downstairs (his abode since my parents have spilt up) He wasn't too much of an arsehole though he really could have waited till i’d finished in the kitchen to rummage around it trying to find the last bowl of a set ( that turned out to be downstairs anyway) 

We went to my great uncles for lunch. I don’t like having xmas at his much cos he never really comes to family gatherings so he feels more like a stranger than anything. Plus he and his wife are loaded and they invite their rich friends over and i did not feel like talking to people i didnt know. Especially load drunk ones who are the embodiment of the “what could a banana cost? $10?” meme lady. (OK i dont actually know how rich they are but they live in a very nice suburb in a big house with way too much wine and it makes my working class leftist self cringe.) I much prefer to have christmas at my grandma’s run down place that creaks and the kitchen floor slopes because its the uncut bedrock the house it built on, and the only new people i have to deal with are my cousin’s new boyfriends.  

One guy was extremely extroverted and drunk and he was very cringe worthy. Like shut! up! you are embarrassing yourself! and your daughters! He cornered me said he remembered me from when i was little and made comments about how I’d changed, he actually bought up the gender thing which like everyone else was stepping around. 

My great aunt made comments about how much happier i am and how she was glad i’d followed my stars. Like thanks? But also I transitioned nearly 3 years ago?? Have you not spoken to me since then? (probably) Talking to the drunk guy was awkward but it was over pretty quick and i ran back to my mum. 

The food was good. I liked the ham and smoked salmon. there was prawns which stunk and made me feel vaugely sick for the rest of the day. as well as my dad’s smoked chicken. Idk what it is about it but when ever he makes it it tastes slightly off to me. Probably cos im not used to it. There much have been 20 bottles of wine on the table. Like ?? You don’t need a bottle of red and white for every person present. 

My dad opted to go home with my aunt and granny so he could stay and bitch longer. He is an alcoholic.  I always thought I was maybe exaggerating when i said that but mum recently told me that he has attended AA meeting in the past. Apparently when they last separated about 9 years ago he was sober for a couple of months. but then said something like “my life isnt worth living without alcohol.” Which does make me feel a little sorry for him, but also he is such an arsehole when he is drunk, like he can be bad when his sober but drunk him is a nightmare and 100% why mum’s separating form him (for good this time) 

Like mum was so worried during the lead up to xmas because what if he gets drunk and starts complaining loudly about her at the family lunch? And she cant leave cos there’s only one car? Or worse (?) he waits til we get home before (verbally) laying into her and us. I wasnt home but my sister got into uni the other day and instead of congratulating her dad made a big fuss cos no one had told him. I cant wait til mum has her own place. Where she (and me and my sisters) dont have to fear him stomping up the stairs to yell at us. I always tell my self that he’s probably not abusive. Like he is a negative toxic person (mum calls him draining) but he doesnt beat us or emotionally manipulate us on purpose. But honestly whats the difference? I wouldn’t be exaggerating too much by calling him abusive. 

I suppose the difference is that I’m (unlikely) to get PTSD from him? And i feel that it wasn’t as bad as some people have it so am I offending actual victims by calling him abusive? But also as theres no way I’m going to start talking over abuse victims and saying shit like I survived my dad with minimal damage that therefore their stories are invalid that calling him abusive or nearly abusive just puts another blip of the spectrum of this is what abuse can look like. If that makes sense? Fuck this was meant to be a christmas post and now its been derailed. 

Anyway I hope one of them sobered up enough to drive. Because drunk driving is a dick move and also I’m slightly worried that they’re dead. My anxiety is always going people are late? They had a car crash there’re dead. I know not to fixtate on it and just go well its possible but also quite unlikely so stfu brain. 

I spent way too much time on my phone trying to ignore people so now i have a headache. I didnt get to drink because I was designated driver so at least I’m not hungover but I was so tired I nearly feel asleep at the wheel. I came home and slept for two hours straight. 

I’ve changed my sheets which ive been meaning to do for a week now, and had coco pops (thanks santa!) for dinner. I need to have a shower and eat some fruit. Hopefully I’ll be able to sleep because we’ve got to get up again tomorrow and go to my granny’s for present opening. because for some reason we couldn’t do it at my great uncles? Like not that I’m complaining about seeing the family again its just very time consuming and I’ve got work tomorrow afternoon so my whole day will be on a time limit and therefor stressful. 

I feel pretty down though. its probably the headache. Maybe its the fact i didnt get presents from extended family so my inner four year old is sad. Maybe its the weather it was quite cold today. Maybe I’m all socalised out. 

I think its partly cos im disappointed in myself for not engaging with people more. Even though I was tired and therefore socialising is undesirable and they were drunk and too loud. I’m also slightly pissed off at having to go to my great uncles. But also the reason we went is cos he had cancer this year so I also feel like a massive jerk for not wanting to go to his place. 

So all in all the day could have gone better. But also it was ok. Like I’ve long since accepted that the whole of christmas day cant be 24 hours of magical this is a special day feeling. Maybe thats an adult sign or maybe its depression (xmas is less and less fun as you grow up) either way I suppose it could have been a more special day. But also it doesnt really matter and hopefully i’ll feel better tomorrow  

#this is literally just me rambling for 1300 words #yes i copied pasted it into a word doc might aswell try to collect this 'journal entries' #i do go on a ramble about my parents separating and whether or not i can call my dad an abusive alcoholic #because he is technically but also not really what you think off when you hear abusive alcoholic #like he's never hit us #he's just energy draining and negative and unconsciously sexist and resistant to own up and apologise #partly cos he is too drunk to remember the incidents? #alcohol #abuse #anyway in conclusion i had an ok day that could have been better #and ive got to do most of it again tomorrow which could turn out really good or just plain stressful #i speak

[ketterdamns]

a brief history

so anyway i’ve been doing a lot of work over the last year (hence why im kinda awol and maybe less positive than I used to be) and the biggest thing that has always come up is to stop retreating when I need to be honest about the things that have happened to me, when acknowledging the things in my life that have damaged me and also as an exercise to let trust my friends and others not to use this information to hurt me- the only power of these words in the hands of others is what I perceive them to have. if i give it away freely and own it it can no longer be used to hurt me, or at least, that is the general idea i might regret this. i might not. i just think i need to try because im so so so tired. 

Anyway, under the cut; csa, parental and spousal abuse, rape, trauma,drugs, addiction, basically all of the triggers. a slightly optimistic ending tho!!! 

Additionally; if you read this, please can you in some way acknowledge that u have, via text, whatsapp, dm, pm, messages, likes (no reblogs pls!!)  just so i can keep track of who knows what ty!!!!

its really hard to admit that ive never had a stable home life. never even had a stable home, from the moment i was in the womb my mum was running, away from my dad (who never let her go), from my dad’s mum- who wanted me dead for reasons my mum has never been able to divulge, from poverty and homelessness throughout my formative years. 

That’s when it started maybe, I was about 3-4/5 we ended up having to move in with my uncle (my dads brother) and his wife. it was an uncomfortable situation for all, we were a family of four intruding on newlyweds, but we were desperate and immigrants to a new country without qualifications for work or money to support us or even a job to hold down. My mum tried her best, but my brother was one and i was two years older. I ended up spending a lot of time with my uncle, who often “took me off of her hands” for afternoons. I don’t rly remember those afternoons, except that I would always play up beforehand, not wanting to go. At some point, my aunt caught on, and instead of talking to her husband, or throwing his pedo ass out, she took out her ??jealousy?? on me, and started pinching me so hard i bruised. she would blame me for my uncle’s behaviour. i was a “madame” pretending to be his “princess”, my mum caught her hitting me, and packed our bags immediately, despite my father not allowing us to leave. we had to stay in that house for another two months, and this is when my mum would never want to let me out of her sight again. And this is also the beginning of the pattern that my dad would allow these things to happen to me but I was just a baby. I didn’t understand. I didn’t know what was happening or why they were. No-one spoke to me and I had no one else in my life at that time. 

We spent some really uncomfortable years in uncomfortable places, but honestly being homeless for that year, and then moving into council accommodation was sort of the least of my worries. I was eight years old the time I was sexually and emotionally abused by my other uncle (also my dad’s brother). It was my first trip back to our home country My grandma spent all her time telling me I was awful (it turns out... she’s a piece of shit) all because I refused to call her “Mum”, she wanted to kidnap me and my brother, and idk what else. but we scuppered her plans by not going along with it. It was a very toxic and scary environment, so when my Uncle would invite me into his next door flat, and treat me with kindness, I was overjoyed. Finally, another adult I could trust! My grandparents used to police food, and essentially only allowed me one meal a day. Back in the UK we were very poor, and rarely got to have sweets unless they were gifts from other people, so my uncle already had the perfect tool to entice me. That first summer, I ate sweets and let him pamper me, slowly giving him more and more affection like sitting on his lap etc, because it meant more sweets for me and my brother. he was my favourite person in the world and i was sure that he was the one person i could truly trust and talk to about anything. I used to dream of moving in with him and living peacefully, well fed, in a quiet cosy environment. The next summer, I was nine, and my dad had almost finished his uni, meaning we were expecting more money. I had my fill of sweets. He bought me toys instead. Slowly, his requests for affection turned into demands. Slowly, his affection turned into something twisted and horrible, something dirty. I once tried to raise the point to my grandma, that sometimes my uncle did things that scared me. she told me off for being a coward. I didn’t say anything. I was getting toys, my little brother was being fed, my mum finally had a friend in my dads side of the family in him. I knew enough about unstable homes that the slightest disagreement could lead to homelessness again and I didnt want that. Maybe my silence was my strength. 

This was confirmed when he raped me when I was 12. It is the last time I will ever see that side of the family. I was in shock the whole time, I didn’t know what to do. When we got home, back onto firm cold soil and the safety of our shitty one bedroom council flat in the roughest estate , I opened up to my dad that for years i’d been terrorised by my uncle and afraid of saying something. Dads were supposed to protect their little girls from big bad men, even if that man was their brother. 

All I got for my troubles was another man who began to hurt me. Outraged that I’d ever speak something so horrible my dad began to beat me. Constantly. And if my mum got involved? He’d beat her too. she didn’t even know what was happening, but there was a point she also went silent, and it was all on me to bear the pain I’d tried to share. The following summer, my uncle died in a freak accident When I heard the news I laughed because I couldn’t help myself, and getting hit for it was worth it for the news. I never had to see him again.  He died and I was free. Except my dad never quite forgot what I had said, and he never forgave me for it. 

Anyway by this point I was a teenager, we moved again and constantly over the years until we properly settled and actually bought a house and I had a strong group of friends who didn’t mind my weirdness and my lack of skills. My mum at this point couldnt bear that I was branching out from her bubble, and something snapped in her too, she started to search my room, stalk my friends, refuse to let me out. honestly.. no i dont blame her (even tho her behaviour hasnt changed and im 23, but at the time? it increased how trapped i felt)

I was a teenager and I had a best friend. She loved a boy named DJ who was 18. DJ used to stalk me, and I kept quiet because I knew she liked him and I knew speaking up would cause me more trouble. I could look after her, and myself. DJ assaulted me one night at a party. I shouldn’t have been there and I shouldn’t have been doing what I was doing. I was already experimenting with drinks and drugs because I was dead inside anyway. he hurt me and then told my best friend that i’d hooked up with him and hoodwinked him into getting with me because i wanted to hurt her. within days that story was around school. i was the easy kid who would sleep with anyone for the drama, and i was quiet. i was terrified news would get to my mum, or my little brother who was also starting at that school. but most of all i was terrified of telling my side of the story, and to be hurt more than i was hurting already. I unfriended them all, and even though DJ continued to stalk me i kept quiet. DJ sent me a necklace with a dove, explaining the significance was that the dove was my innocence or some other weird creepy crap. my mum found it in the bin where id tried to bury it under rubbish i told her a fraction of the truth, I was being harassed by a boy and I didn’t welcome his advances. I didn’t tell her it was already too late. The school of course told him to keep away, and he did for the most part, and one time he tried to corner me while I was skiving off of a class and there was no one around, I ran and went to tell a teacher. I got told to “grow up” and sometimes “we have to get along with people we dont like”. I was the villain in their eyes. I swore  I would do everything in my power to get out of this school, go to the grammar in a new city where my reputation . DJ was arrested this year for online grooming an d sharing child pornography, and it honestly breaks my heart that its been going on for so long. maybe i should have said more, but who to? 

My time at school wasn’t all bad. And i had my first real positive experience with an older man. My english teacher once caught me unawares and I had a panic attack at being alone with a man-- he was gentle and kind, and worked with me to get to where i wanted to be grades-wise. he let me borrow his books and told me stories about his own son and i understood what real love meant, and it broke me that i’d never experienced it. 

My brother had grown so big now, and threatened my dad. if he ever lay another finger on one of us under our roof, my brother would kill him. my brother spent his childhood learning to fight, he’s in the runnings for the Olympics. My dad recognised the threat was real. And never hit me when my brother was home. However, when my brother wasn’t home... that was another story. my silence then was another kind of strength. I couldnt tell him the truth, because if he followed through on this threat, his life would be over. My dad got more sneaky, he would avoid my face, he’d grab my ankle and twist it so tight that it’s now forever fucked up. 

Despite all my fucked-up ness I did make it to grammar school, despite my parents not wanting me to go there. And im so glad i did. I finally had two years with minimal assault. My dad hurt me sometimes? The first night after my induction class because summer break, my dad took my prized hockey stick- one I’d worked long days to afford, and smashed it on my leg. I had to get crutches and didn’t leave my house for most of the summer, because I didn’t want to explain what happened. I couldn’t play my sport ever again properly. I lied to my friends and told them i was in my home country for the summer. i legit did not leave my house unless it was for doctors appts. 

 occasional nights he would be tired of me doing nothing but homework or making projects, or being loud. Alternately, he’d hate it when suddenly i became withdrawn and uncommunicative. when i physically couldn’t move etc. anyway turns out these were symptoms of my MI which wouldn’t be diagnosed for a long while, despite trying to find what was wrong with me from this point onwards.  but!!! for the most part! it was great! my school was in another city! i had freedom for a couple hours every day to do what i wanted! i made friends who embraced my weirdness! i had no reputation and i had my very own laptop finally so i could finally have some privacy!

too much privacy, i refused to give my mum my laptop password. hearing this, my dad threw my laptop down the stairs. 

i used what little money i had from part time jobs to fix it, but its something im resentful of to this day. my mum, in her eagerness to protect me, just let him hurt me again. 

anyway blah blah blah i moved to london and it was amazing i ran away i was free everything was going to change and i was finally going to be the person i always knew i was destined to be! chic and cosmopolitan and cool and confident and most importantly, safe, and comfortable, and in control. And I was. and then three weeks before halloween it happened again. i’d been away from home for two months now, and i’d started dabbling in harder drugs than weed, but that night i was not high. i was not in withdrawal. i was only drunk. i got raped again. this time, i did report it, but only because my housemates knew it had happened. i got rushed to A&E where they are legally required to call the police. the police took me to their HQ and i was interviewed. they arrested him. none of this was my choice, and my lack of silence led to a lack of control. I know ive been detailed already, but i wont go into detail about the rape kits they have and the questions i got asked and the journalists who dogged me and the nosy gossips who wanted to know the juicy deets. I don’t want to go into detail about how i realised I was a victim and was always going to be a victim, and i cant go into detail about the most recent abuses, not yet. All I know is i once thought i was in love with a boy called ‘T’, and what he did to me was worse because he made me believe this was all I could get and that I had to settle. He made me believe that him getting off on my trauma was love, instead of him picturing me as a child repeatedly brutalised by my male relatives. The moment I came to my senses and he was gone, I realised I was alone again. I failed my second year of uni, because the day before my final exam, my rapists wife found my house in london, idk how. She and her child begged me to help her husband’s appeal. I sympathised with her, she was a non-native with broken english looking after her kid. She reminded me of my mum. I told her for her chid’s sake and for her sake, I couldn’t. She cursed me and nothing has been the same since. actually, the lovely people of tumblr helped me raise the funds to complete summer school and carry on with my life. i now hold a masters degree. i remember each and every one of u who donated or signal boosted. i also remember my choice to keep his wife out of it, and not mention her. silence was golden. 

This year my rapist  was deported after raping another person when he was released for good behaviour. 

anyway. despite all of this magnitude of shit that has happened to me. despite my numerous addictions that im still working thru (im sorry if u knew me when i was nothing but a junkie. at 19/20 I was not a good person and anything I said that was thoughtful or provocative came from a bad place. I gave bad advice and abused my medication alongside brown and alcohol. My manic episodes got worse than I’ve ever experienced and usually led to me some very dark very scary places. I’m mostly better now but the last year has Been A Lot. I tried to kill myself twice. Once, I was saved by police, which is... embarrassing and I lied my ass off (and brandished the fact i was a MASTERS STUDENT OF LAW and they had entirely the wrong end of the stick) and another time, i was saved by chance. I am making so much progress tho. I’m proud of me. I’ve become more independent. I’m not afraid to speak out when I’m dissatisfied now. I know strength comes from knowing what you want and what you don’t want, not settling for the worst because unknown reactions in my imagination are worse than whatever reality has in store. 

im graduating from my masters next week. i feel as tho ive lost a lot of friends and people i cared about- all i can say is im sorry. i’m trying. but if i fuck up, its on me. if i speak too loudly and it hurts you, please tell me. if i dropped away, its because i had to work on me, and im sorry, and im ready to come back, if you’ll have me.  I’m really excited about the future, but im scared too. the last three months have been so hard and every day i feel like giving up again, but I won’t. there has to be a reason i survived all this, and im yet to find it, but i hope i will. im still going thru shit. my dad is still the worst. but i have a really lovely partner who is so so so patient with me- more than i deserve, im in touch with a doctor and a sleep therapist, my brother is looking out for me and im getting in touch with old friends, and im making new ones all the time. thank you for sticking by me, and sorry for the long read. i just had to get it out there you know? its my truth and the silence was killing more than anything else in this stupid story is. ive left lots of details out, but parts of my story interlink with others and other parts im still holding onto, i cant share everything online i think thats enough oversharing for a long long time. 

#all of the trigger warning; you have been warned #please acknowledge this if u read it so i know who to be awkward with lol #tbd

[azurera]

I know you are supposted to get one in your askbox. but guess what. i dont give a shit, and i’m bored as fuck so i did them all. my memory is shit atm so i dont remember some answers to some of these. and my grammar is shit but do with it what you want. g’night ya’ll ~

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? more milk, because i can always drink the extra milk, the other way around you would end up with dry cereal and thats just bleh.

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? no

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? everything i can find. most unique thing is probably a 10 Gulden bill (very old dutch currency before the euro) 

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? I trow as much crap in my coffee as i possible can, sugar, milk. more milk than coffee. give it to me cold, add alcohol. i dont give a shit. thea is just nice to have a little suger thats it. let me enjoy the flaver itself. 

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? 9/10 times probably yeah

6: do you keep plants? since a few weeks i sometimes get flowers, so you could say i kind of own plants some times. 

7: do you name your plants? i should 

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? i scream into the void

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? no, because i sound terrible 

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? side mostly. or when im really tired my back. usually not my stomach because .. well.. boobs. 

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? if i had friends.... no idea tho. i have so many jokes, my life included. 

12: what's your favorite planet? PLUTO. VIVA LA PLUTO. the little rings on saturn are also nice. shit this could have been a nice opportunity to make a uranus joke.. 

13: what's something that made you smile today? i didnt

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? lots of pillows

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! 99% of our soular system’s mass is the sun

16: what's your favorite pasta dish? i dont know. but those swirly things are cute. 

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? every. colour. at. once.

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. i try to stack those memories far far away. 

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? i dont 

20: what's your favorite eye color? i dont have a favorite eye colour. but i love eyes that look like space nebulas. 

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. i bought a nice leather bag on castlefest. its very usefull nice and small but it can fit more in it than you think. 

22: are you a morning person? if by morning you mean still awake at 4, then yes. 

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? lay my dead body to rest on my couch and cuddel with my cat

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? probably not

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? my own house? i dont really break into places. 

26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? i have to many shoes man..

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? the really over the top fruity onces

28: sunrise or sunset? sunset, (becouse im not a fucking morning person) 

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? im thinking of to many things at once and yet nothing comes up. 

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? way to many times. 

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. i only own black socks, becouse then you never have the problem of looking for a pair. sometimes im all for socks, i wear them even when i take of all my other clothes just becouse they are soft and then i wear them to bed and they magicaly disappear. but since i wear dresses a lot i also wear panty’s and stuff. so its not always socks. 

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. usually that invloves a lot of alcohol. which means that i don’t really rememeber a lot. (which is also probably for the better) 

33: what's your fave pastry? pie

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? i think it was a little lion called simba. and im sure its in a box somewhere. 

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? yes i love them. but i dont use them a lot becouse a) not many people write me letters and b) i could. write them first. but obviously im a lazy fuck. 

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? i just really prefer silence right now. 

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? i like keeping it clean, but we all know thats not happening. 

38: tell us about your pet peeves! i do not know right now. i think

39: what color do you wear the most? black..... 

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? the 3 things I always wear are a ring my grandma got me, a ring my mother bought for my 18 birthday that she switched her old wedding rings for. and a mjolnor necklace. I just saw so many people with one. and i really wanted to have one aswell, but not just any, so i went and looked all over this fantasy event and i’ve honestly seen every single mjolnor necklace they had, and then i picked this one. 

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? the girl on the train was a nice book (the film a little less)  it was just nice to have a book that i could go through quickly. 

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! not really 

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? god its been to long... 

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? i still wish for this day... 

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? mmmaybe

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. i can not make one up right now. i need to have the righ feel in the right moment. 

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? PINAPPLE ON PIZZA, PINEAPPLE ON PIZZA, PINEAPPLE ON PIZZA

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? death. yes.

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? I only own a few CD’s, and a few LP’s the last one i think was a supernatural christmas cd thing.

50: what's an odd thing you collect? those prayer cards with the picture of the person, you get at a funeral. i have quite a lot of them, so you could say i collect them. 

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? suddenly

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? i like the “you cant xx if you don’t xxx” memes. those make for some good jokes. other than that i make my own memes, fresh and local. 

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? only parts... i should watch them shouldn’t i..

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? u know who u are.. im sorry.. 

55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? i secretly moved out in a pretty dramatic way to prove my mom that i couldnt go on like that... 

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? when they shut the fuck up

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? i do not feel like listening to it now, thats how its making me feel. 

58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? im both.

59: what's your favorite myth? nice people are my favorite mythical creatures. 

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? im not really into poetry tho, but sometimes there is one thats just nice, discribing beaty in such a subtle way, that i like it. 

61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? i don’t give stupid gifts. people either get something epic from me or nothing at all. go big or go home. 

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? ive been drinking this strawberry/apple/ bananna juice stuff sometimes, makes me feel like i try to be healthy. 

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? i keep them in an organized mess (just like my life) 

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? its a lovely gradient of light blue/white/ to a bit darker blue. 

65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? so many people, i suck at being social. 

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? ALL THE COLORS

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? sometimes its nice to stare out of the window on those days. 

68: what's winter like where you live? shitty 

69: what are your favorite board games? i like playing monopoly and slowly see the light dissappear from my friends eyes. or cluedo you know, murder. 

70: have you ever used a ouija board? no

71: what's your favorite kind of tea? its this one thea they have at the cinema, the pink one. the rosy stuff. its so good. 

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? i should note it down. but then i forget to read it. so yeah, ill mess up either way. 

73: what are some of your worst habits? i tent to complain a lot, becouse i always hope it will make me feel better when there is to much going on in my head. but sometimes i just keep going, and i dont even know how bad its getting, and i probably pull myself down into some negative spiral and well then we’re fucked again.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. you fucking pancakes. 

75: tell us about your pets! MY CAT IS THE MOST ADORABLE LITTLE SHIT, HE IS SO CUTE. AND LOVES CUDDLES. AND HIS FLUFFYNESS IS. i can keep going forever. 

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? its getting pretty late. i should sleep. 

77: pink or yellow lemonade? mmmpink? 

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? i hate them. 

79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? im trying to think of one. but my memmory is shit atm. 

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? just white. makes it look bigger. 

81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. NEBULAS

82: are/were you good in school? soommeeetimessss

83: what's some of your favorite album art? I do like GACKT his album art tho. the costumes he wears are nice.

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? i have been thinking of this design of a music G thingy that looks like a cat. its really cute. but i cant even commit to where i put a sticker let a lone where to put a tattoo. 

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? i have quite a lot of constantine comics, to satisfy the fact that the series quit after 1 season. 

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? no idea

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? stonehenge appocalpyse

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? not sure

89: are you close to your parents? *crying sounds* 

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. i love all cities except the one i live in. Im such a slut for older building and architecture. old gothic churches man. oh my god. 

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? france, for sad stuff, and i hope to see my german potato this year <3 if i can make it... 

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? SMOTHER THE FUCKER IN CHEESE. 

93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? just long, straight now. or either in like a clip. when its to hot  to have it all down. 

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? i saw on my calander at internship that one collegue had his birthday today. 

95: what are your plans for this weekend? convention staff meeting on saturday, looking into something for sunday.. 

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? *hysterical laughter*  

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? no idea, leo, huffelpuf

98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? in germany i think. to long ago. i love mountains, and walks, and beaches. 

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. PIANO’S 

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? 5 years into the past to kill myself. :”D absoluutly.

#blep

[callmeyl-blog]

Because The Internet Makes Me Invincible

Even though my Tumblr blog still seems to be a bit boring and dull (because I can't design it), I'll continue posting here anyway. Other users won't understand why I can't just install the mobile app--no one asked but it's because I ain't rich and this phone is just a hand-me-down from my mother. And also, I'm in the Philippines, space scarcity is very, very common here. You'd be surprised by how many people are like that here. Of course, there are some rich kids who's wants are served in a silver platter, buuuut as you can see, I'm not a rich kid. I'm just a fourteen year-old 8th grader who's headphones (which were stolen from an airplane by my uncle, that's how ordinary my life is) are blasting supercell's "My Dearest" whilst typing this Tumblr post. I started this blog so that I could express myself and stuff, and this place is PERFECT because no one knows me here. I am free from judgment. My friends might be able to track me down one day, so I'll enjoy the solitude while it lasts. But if they were to track me down, it'd be because I let them. Anywaaaay, this blog post is supposed to be about my day so, please enjoy reading this chapter about my enticingly ordinary life as a teenager! I dunno if people foreign to my country know about this term, but our municipality experienced what we'd call a "brownout" earlier this morning. Like a blackout, but smaller. So, this brownout began last night, around 7. I was expecting the light would be back on around 11 but, waking up because of my 5 o'clock alarm, I realized I was going to die because my phone was about to stupefy itself to death because the lIGHTS STILL WEREN'T BACK ON. As such, it was very, very dark in our house. Without the lights, 5 AM was practically still nighttime. And it was creepy. We Filipinos believe in otherworldly entities, and though I like to say I dont care about them, i acknowledge their existence. So yeah, it was very dark and with the small light coming from my almost-dead phone, I took a look at my aunt and grandma who were still sleeping soundly. I decided to go sleep again too. It was 5:01 at that time but because of panic and stress, the moment I opened my eyes--which felt like mere seconds passed by--it was already 5:20. I panicked even more and jumped out of bed. It was still dark outside, but my aunt and grandma were now awake, sitting outside while talking in a grave tone. It didn't help that my most recent dream was very creepy. Ill prolly talk about it in another tumblr post. Though I know no one cares. Apparently, a guy riding a motorcycle (foreigners call those stuff bikes) had hit a dawg just a few minutes prior to me waking up. The dogs were playing at the street, I guess, and the motorcyclist didnt see the black dog and hit it. The said dog died, and the motorcyclist flew with his bike (i prefer to call it motor because im freaking Bisaya) to the side of the street. I've forgotten the exact arrangement of the happenings now. All I remember is Papa was the one who brought the guy to the hospital while I creeped into where grandma slept so I could sleep again. Mama called me afterwards and told me to watch over my younger sister, so i went to their room and lay beside my sis. She was fast asleep and I wanted to sleep too. Alas,she'd move occasionally and that required some pats on the side so she wont wake up. While I was on watch, she'd sometimes whimper and stuff because i fell asleep and couldnt pat her. It continued like that, till grandma opened the door and let the sunshine get in, making me realize it's LATE in the morning already. She told me exactly that, and with a frown on my face, I proceeded to take a bath. When i had changed into my uniform and ate my usual breakfast, I had a problem with my socks. I ended up wearing my imitation Skecher shoes, that we call rubber shoes though they aren't exactly rubber. I brought my bag which was full of books and notebooks that were still arranged for Tuesdays and Thursdays and my envelope. I left my phone in my parents' room, because I wouldn't be able to charge it in school anyway. I waited for Papa to come back from the fuel station and observed the dead dog that lay along the street. It was a medium-sized black dog. To me, it looked alive. When Papa brought me to my school, he gave me my baon for the day: 100 pesos, as usual. What he didnt know was that I bought 515 pesos with me too, because I needed to send my payment for my QED merches. I was going to buy a t-shirt and a lanyard. Simple stuff, but it's an achievement for me. The first thing I asked my classmates was whether or not they charged their phones. Some of them were able to charge theirs because they had power banks, most of them were deadbatt, like me. Most of us also hadn't printed for our Science portfolio too. When my friends--and by that I mean, the people i usually hang out with arrived--I kept on lamenting about my phone. I ended up screaming at my MAPEH teacher as I greeted good morning. VJ, my male bestfriend who seemed to be more girlish than i'd ever be left his phone at his place too. Surprising, as that phone of his is his one and only thing he wont ever leave behind. Being a Vocaloid fan, his phone if full of Vocaloid-related pics and videos, with an occasional addition of Pokemon, Tekken, and other shoujo anime stuff. Practically, he's a quirky friend who's obsessed with what he likes. Makes you wanna wish he'd be like that with his grades. So after I screamed at some plants for therapy, I told VJ about my weird dream. VJ seemed shocked and creeped out and to change the mood, I opened up a topic about my other friend, Kim. We both hoped she'd bring her tablet and phone--but when she arrived, she brought neither. She was able to charge her phone but she used up the battery because she didnt know the brownout would last long. My classmate with a weird English accent said a powerplant exploded, so it would take time to repair. Four days, he said. That would be terrifying. After that, Harmony, my third friend arrived. We talked about the same stuff: One Punch Man, My Hero Academia, High School Story--by which she mocked my school again. I pretended to have ill will against her for it, but then my classmate who's grandparents live in Canada (as she's told us whenever she brags) told me that our club adviser for the Bookworm Club was calling for us, so I left my three friends there and went to the library. I just swept the floor there, and when Kim arrived to get her portfolio folder, with Harmony and VJ following her, I went with them as they walked back to the classroom. We talked about the dream I had. Honestly, it's so hard to continue writing about this day I had. I'll try to finish later- BYE!!!!!

[invisiblenotbroken]

A Ghost Story For Halloween

“If we are really witches why cant we just fly.” Clement was not happy about what her mother had assured her would be an adventure. Clement did not see adventure in state after state rolling past her window in corn, plain, and flat long blue skies. To punish her mother she had created a game of seeing how many states she could go without speaking to her. This was the first time she had said anything since Idaho.

Her mother looked at her from under her sunglasses, “She speaks. Even my tarot couldn’t have predicted it.”She waited for Clement to speak again. Her knuckles turning pale on the wheel “I only know how to do so many things but the second you learn the flying thing please teach me.”

Clement found a particularly fascinated piece of skin on her thumb. She swooped on it like an owl gnawing until dots of blood could be seen. “I still don’t think we should have had to move.” Her mother’s body became stiff with every bit of her energy focused away from Clement and on the road. “It was only a little thing and no one got hurt.” She remembered Tom’s face when he had stood back up. “Well not really hurt.”

“It’s a new start, for both of us.” Her mother squeezed her knee. A smile started thin and uncertain dying quickly at Clement’s expression. “We only have another state and a half for you to be silent in, make the most of it.”

Clement glared at her. “I told you to stay out of my head.”

“Then don’t think so loud.” Her mother turned on the radio full blast and as usual her mother’s favorite song just happened to be playing. “What are the chances?” Her mother’s voice carried out the window and over the fields. There was nothing left to do but read the book her aunt had left for her, The Grimoire for the Young and Respectable Lady Witch.

The house was perfect. Miles away from anyone and haunted her mother had promised. All sorts of ghosts all sorts of ages. Surely she would find some friends for the Summer, someone who might have been even more angry about being here than she was. Her mother gave her newspaper clippings of all the unsavory incidents that the house had been a stage for. They were dead Clement felt dead inside, they already had things in common.

“Can I have a pet?”

“You don’t need to ask me.”

“Not a familiar but a pet. A regular cat who hunts mice and stuff.”

“Bastet hunts mice.” Bastet stretched and exited the car looking over the house with quiet feline approval.

“You know what I mean.” Bastet stepped on Clement’s foot staring directly into her eyes while she slowly licked her paws clean. Her mother shrugged

“Maybe a frog?” Her mother smiled picking up Bastet and walking into the house.

“That’s not funny.”

“You’re right, it’s hilarious. Last one in has to make dinner. Boil boil toil and trouble.”

“We don't even have a cauldron anymore.”

“True, never enough space for it. We should get one here. Just for appearances sake.”

“Your such a nerd.”

“A nerd who loves you.” Her mom wrapped her arms around Clement  who let herself enjoy it for exactly five seconds.

Clement’s bedroom was at the top of the north stairs over her mother’s room and under her mother’s workroom. No matter where they had lived the workroom was a place Clement had a standing invitation to come and learn the parts of witchcraft that bored her the most. She never came. She preferred her own try and see approach. To be fair this is why they had to move away for a while, after the biology class mishap.

Clement had only meant to reanimate her own frog. She had no idea how all of them got up from their trays and began hopping. Her teacher knew it was her, who else could it possibly be? Poor Tom had fainted dead away turning green and pale. He got a bump on the head from the table. But what could anyone do? To say Clement was weird and strange was one thing but to be able to reanimate a class full of dead frogs, that would be saying she was a witch, and there hadn’t been real witches for hundreds of years. Instead the principal and a very nervous counselor recommended homeschool or a long trip at least for the rest of the school year.

She didn’t mind, not really. High School had been amusing but she hadn’t made any real friends. Her Mother said she was ridiculous Clement was always invited to slumber parties. It just showed how grown ups, even witch grown ups, never know the right questions to ask.

Every slumber party girls who wouldn’t speak to her for anything would suddenly sidle up to her at lunch. They stopped asking if her thermos contained potions. They wanted her for the Oujai board and for games to find out who liked them. Idiots. They had no idea about magic. Real magic. But Clement did and she found ways to amuse herself at the parties. She told the most popular girl in school that she couldn’t see anyone in her future. She made sure she looked at Chelsea with big sorry eyes. A little wet just to sell it. The way Chelsea went on about it you would just know that alone was her least favorite thing. But then again that was Clement’s point. Chelsea’s mother even made an ill advised phone call to her own mother. It ended with a threat about turning her and her pea brained daughter into a toads. She had never liked her mother so much as in that moment.

Now here she was in a haunted house with an entire horizon between her and the next house, completely alone. She grabbed a book on herbology from her mother’s book box and headed out to explore, her head down to avoid seeing her mom’s smile. She would be entirely too pleased about her magical studies.

Hours later inside a room made by an obliging willow Clement sat making faces out of leaves, animating dead bumble bees who made slow confused circles before falling back to the ground, and occasionally reading under half closed eyes. It was going to be a very long few months.

Chpt.2 The Meeting

It took a week before she was ready to play. It was only a few days before she stopped with make up and another day for her mother to stop looking like she might say something about it. The herb book had disappeared in the forest and made its’ way back to her mother’s room. She swore it wasn’t her. It was the best use of Clements’ time and amusement to search the house for possible fairies but the ghosts answered first.

It started out simple and not too scary but that wasn’t the intention. Certain things were tried to see what would frighten Clement the most. Small things, finger nail scratches and light knocks on the door. Almost a hello. Her shoes would appear on the other side of her room and then later would venture to the ice box and once in a fit of what Clement could only call imagination they were hanging by their laces outside her bedroom window on a straggled oak branch. Clement was biding her time. The full moon was coming and she had a few questions. That and she hadn’t spoken to anyone but her mom for a few days.

She waited past midnight. The sky was black except where it was a riot of stars, only the moon was missing. The circle was made of salt cornered with five different stones and five candles. Clement held the sixth with hematite swirling silver in her palm. She was many things but an idiot she was not. Or, she was not dumb enough to make an incautious mistake that her mother could point to.

The candles flickered and the leaves dented in a circle around her.

“Can we stop with the dramatics?” The words were out of Clement’s mouth before she realized they were her mother’s. “I wouldn’t be out here if I didn’t know what you are. I just want to know who.” The wind sighed. “I could do research but there’s no WiFi here and the library is a really long walk.”

“Can I come in?” The words were in Clement’s ear and no where else. Clement held the hematite hard. Her foot knocked the salt back. Her hair was half up half down and her sleeves reached the outer edges of the circle. She looked angry in a way that reminded Clement very much of herself. “I’m Emma.”

“Like the book?”

“Don’t mention that book. I just wanted her to get crushed by a carriage.”

“Is that what happened to you?”

“We had a motor car. Don’t you know that’s very rude.”

“Sorry. You wanted my attention. You have it.”

“Did you like the trick with your shoes?”

“It made me come out here.”

“You have hematite.”

“How did you know?”

“My mother never would have let me do this without it. They couldn’t be that different, your mother and mine.”

“Does that mean we’re not so different?”

“You are alive.”

“Sorry.” Clement had no idea why she was sorry but all of the sudden she really was. Her pulse embarrassed her. “I’m here. You don’t want to talk about how you died. What do you want?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to it’s just really personal and I don’t know you. I’ve been alone here a long time.”

“You dont have to worry we’re not here for long. Just until the frog thing blows over.”

“Frog?”

“I reanimated a bunch of frogs in my science class.” The leaves rustled in what could almost be a laugh. The circle grew warm and empty the salt was back in line with the stones.

“You can stay.” The candles burned so much more brightly and Clement sat down suddenly very aware of her heartbeat. She had had encounters with ghosts before but this was very different.

Chpt.

“Did you meet Emma?” Clement’s scarf, candles, and stones tumbled to the floor.

“Were you spying?”

“Spying has such negative connotations. I think of it more like there is no TV and an impromptu seance was much more interesting than my tea. How is she? Did she do the shoe thing?”

“I brought hematite.”

“I would expect so but also not necessary. She’s not harmful just…”

“Disappointed.”

“I hadn’t thought of it before but yes. I think she was. You’re both about the same age. She should be some company for you. Unless you would like to get a pet frog.”

“That was unkind.”

“I am your mother unkind is the bargain we make for me being your mother while you’re a teenager.” Clement leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“Did Grandma take you here?”

“Of course. She wanted me to meet her. I think she was hoping she would tell me how she died.”

“It wasn’t be carriage.”

“I wouldn’t expect so they had a car.”

“God. That’s what she said.” Clement started to walk away.

“Goodnight Poppet. You know I was kidding before about the unkind thing.”

“No you weren’t”

“No, but do you forgive me?”

“Always.” Clement could feel her mother sinking into a chair stirring her tea with her newest cat slinking under her wrist.

#Halloween #Ghost Story