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mlovesstories · 4 years

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Feeling the Burn Part 5

Warnings: active self-harm, cussing, therapy, emotional issues

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AN- Tough stuff, guys. Read the warnings.

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“You have a what?” Danneel brought everyone water as she sat down next to Jensen across the table from YN.

“Half-brother. Are you mad at me?” YN looked down and rang her hands together.

“No, of course not,” Danneel stared at Jensen, telling him to calm down.

“I think we are just confused as to why you didn’t say anything. You’ve been with us for over a year.”

“Look, I don’t expect you to understand.” YN huffed.

“But we want to. You just have to give us a chance.”

“He never liked me, always treated me like crap when I was younger, so I just stayed away. Learned to do that early. Kenyan was always in trouble at school. My parents didn’t know what to do with him. I think he was the main reason they started drinking and being stupid. I couldn’t go out or have fun with my friends because they assumed I was out drinking or doing drugs like he was. So, I got a job and stayed at the library as much as possible.”

“Hence your good work ethic,” Jensen smiled.

“I try,” YN shrugged. “Kenyan would follow me or sabotage stuff for me.”

Danneel gasped.

“What?” Jensen turned to her suddenly.

“Those notes that were left. Maybe he wrote them.”

“What notes?” YN squinted.

“Someone left me notes about how you were a terrible employee. We tried to find out who was doing it, but then it stopped.”

“I’m gonna kill him.” YN growled.

“Let the detective take care of him. He chose to destroy your life. Don’t let him do it anymore. You need an appointed security guard. Anywhere you go.”

“Oh, Jensen. No. He wouldn’t actually hurt me.”

“Sweetie, he almost killed Jensen.” Danneel tried to calm the girl down.

“I’m not having a warden.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Oh, shut up, you two.” Danneel slammed a towel down on the counter. “Look, you are in potential danger. I know the fire happened a while ago. Why don’t we make a compromise. You check in when you go somewhere. If you are somewhere other than school for more than two hours, you check in. Deal?”

“Dee, we need to be more vigilant than that-”

“No. We are not going to change her life around. If we don’t hear from her, we’ll call the detective.”

“Fine,” Jensen rolled his eyes.

_________

“She hasn’t texted me back.” Danneel ran into the living room. “I texted her ten minutes ago.”

Jensen whipped out his phone and called YN.

“Yeah?”

“ANSWER YOUR PHONE!” Jensen yelled. “You were supposed to respond ten minutes ago.”

“I’m sorry,” YN whispered. “I’m working.”

“I don’t care. You text us back!” Jensen slammed the phone down on the couch after hanging up.

“Jensen!” Danneel yelled at him.

“I’m going to go give her a piece of my mind,” Jensen stood from the couch and started to walk toward the door.

“Jensen Ackles!” Danneel stepped in front of him. He froze. “You better cool it right now!” He took a deep breath. “My gosh, Jensen. She missed one check-in. And she was working.”

“He BURNED me! I could have die-” Jensen’s face dropped. His wife recognized the expression on his face, and she closed the space between them.

“I know,’ she whispered. “But you’re here. With me. You’re okay.” Danneel felt something wet on her cheek. “You didn’t tell me how much this has been bothering you.”

________

YN slowly entered the house. Danneel and Jensen looked up at her. She bit her lip and faced them.

“I’m sorry.” YN clasped her hands together behind her back. “You’ve been crying. I’ve never had someone do that over me before. You’re crying because I didn’t listen, right?”

“No. Come here,” Jensen sat up straight. YN sat on the arm of the chair next to him. “I’m not mad at you. I realized I am dealing with the fire in a not-so-good way. And I took it out on you.”

“You’re cutting?” YN looked at his collarbone.

“What? No. I took out my anger on you. Are YOU cutting?” Jensen asked, surprised by her thought process.

“I used to, not anymore. And you have been cutting. I saw it on your hips the other day when you were going to work out. Your collarbone has marks on it too.”

“Jensen?” Danneel leaned back to see him. “Really?” She asked softly.

“No, I-.” He took a deep breath.

“How come I didn’t notice?” Danneel said to herself.

“He hid them. Probably told you they were scratches from fight scenes would be my guess.” YN surmised.

Jensen looked up at her with sad eyes.

“Good job, ladies. You found out my secret.” The man sighed and stood up, exiting and leaving the girls on the couch. Danneel’s eyes were watery.

“I promise he will be okay,” YN scooted to be closer to Danneel. “I struggled with it for a long time. If we can help him now, he can fight it.” She opened her arms to the older one.

After a few minutes, Danneel sat up from being in YN’s arms.

“You’re amazing,” Danneel smiled and wiped her last tear away.

“Not really, just been through some stuff.”

________

Danneel walked into the master bedroom. She found Jensen standing in front of their bathroom mirror.

“Can I see?” Danneel walked behind him and wrapped her arms around him. Jensen sighed, feeling defeated. He slowly unbuttoned his long-sleeved plaid shirt. Danneel walked next to him to see the marks on his body. “Ouch,” Danneel said under her breath. Danneel ran her fingers over the long, thin lines on his chest. “These are newer,” she met his eyes. Danneel saw tears about to spill over. “No more of that. No more tears today. Let’s talk.” She turned him to face her. “Why?”

________

“Why are you here, Mister Ackles?”

Jensen leaned back against his seat, sighed and crossed his arms.

“Ah, you’re gonna be a hard one to crack, huh?” Dr. Brown grinned.

“I’m only here because my foster daughter threatened to not go to her own counseling sessions if I didn’t come here,” he answered through gritted teeth.

“You must love her very much.”

“Don’t placate me,” Jensen stated.

“Just making a comment, Mister Ackles. Not everyone has an agenda. So, Cowboys, huh?”

“What?”

“You’re lanyard,” Dr. Brown nodded to Jensen’s keys on the side table.

“Oh, yeah. Best team in the league. Even when they aren’t,” Jensen smiled.

________

“Stop it.”

“No, answer me. How did it go? You don’t have to give me specifics. Are you glad you went?” YN followed Jensen toward his room.

“I told him I only went because you made me,” he refused to look at her.

“And because you want to get better,” YN reinforced. As they entered the master bedroom, she stopped right inside the door. “Where is it?”

“Where is what?”

“The razor.”

“No. I’m not having a moment with you.”

“You want to get better? Give it to me. I don’t want you having it unsupervised.”

“I’m not giving it to you. You’ve cut too.”

“Then let’s throw it away. Go get it,” she weakly smiled.

“Fine,” he sighed.

________

“Mister Ackles,” Dr. Brown started.

“What? What do you want? Can I leave now?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, you’re the one showing up here.”

“Great.” Jensen said matter-of-factly. He stood up to exit.

“BUT-,” The doctor stopped Jensen. “If you leave, I’m assuming you won’t go to another psychologist, and therefore you won’t get better. Do you want to-”

“Yes! Yes, I do want to get better.” Jensen shouted.

“If you are going to remain in here, you are going to be quiet and not disturb the other clients in this building,” the doctor said deeply. “Furthermore, that’s not what I was going to say. Are you going to stay and try or are you going to interrupt me and then I kick you out?”

Jensen quietly looked away from the doctor and walked back to his seat on the couch.

“What I was going to say was: do you want to play a game for me to get to know you, or would you rather start telling me about yourself? I still don’t know your motivation for coming other than your foster daughter said you should.”

“Whatever.” Jensen gave in. “Look, my foster daughter, YN, and I saw some scary shit. We made her go see her school counselor. I didn’t think I was affected by it. I blew up at her after she ignored our rules to keep her safe because of what happened. Well, sort of. I was stressed, and I had been thinking about what happened.”

“Sounds terrible. Do we need to get to know each other more before you tell me?” Dr. Brown readjusted his shirt and waited.

“Someone kidnapped her. We found her, but then the guy got killed because he came at us with a knife. Cop shot him. Cop said to get down, so we dropped to the ground. I covered her so that she wouldn’t get hurt.” Jensen put his head in his hands.

“Ah. Yeah, that’s pretty messed up,” Dr. Brown agreed. “It wouldn’t also have anything to do with that, would it?”

Jensen looked down to see the small scars on his skin.

“How’d you know?”

“Saw the news when the fire happened. I recognized you from the news report. Apparently you’re famous.”

“To some people, I guess.” Jensen sat up straighter. “Yeah, okay, fine. That’s the real reason why I freaked, okay?”

“And what does a fire that you were injured in have to do with YN?”

The doctor saw Jensen take in a deep breath and not let it out.

“Let’s try something else. What do you like to do for fun?”

“Umm. I like to box, hang out with my wife. I’ve run a few marathons.”

“Good. You have some good coping skills.”

“I sound like a freaking science experiment.”

“No, you sound like you have some positive ways of dealing with stressors. How’re the Cowboys doing this season?”

“Eh. I just watch it right now to fall asleep to.”

“That’s what I use it for too,” the doctor smiled. “Tell me about YN. She seems to have an impact on you.”

Jensen went on to explain YN’s history and what he knew about her. He told the doctor that YN had been through a lot, and she was seeking help.

“She is the hardest working kid I’ve ever seen. Sad thing is, it comes from a terrible place. YN had to be perfect at home. We never put that pressure on her. If anything, we try to get her to relax. I’m hoping seeing the counselor will help.”

“Wow. I can see the connection you have. She is a lucky girl to have you and your wife…” he looked at Jensen’s file. “Danielle?” Jensen laughed.

“Danneel,” he smiled.

“Right,” the doctor nodded.

________

So how’d it go?” Danneel wrapped her arms around her husband as she snuggled into him on the couch.

“Okay. I don’t like it, but YN-”

“If I have to go, so do you,” YN walked in and crash-landed to the couch next to Jensen.

“How’s it going for you?” Danneel looked beyond Jensen to see YN.

“Okay,” YN said quietly.

“Yeah, not so easy to talk about, huh?” Jensen growled.

“Oh, shut up, Jensen!” YN screamed and stood up. “You’re not too good for this. You almost burned to death. Let’s be real. And we saw someone die in front of this. No big deal or anything. Stop being an ass about it, and do the work! You’re turning into my dad with your attitude and the way you treat me! No thanks! When I turn eighteen, I’m out of here!”

“YNN-“ Jensen sighed, defeated.

—————-

“You cut?”

“How did you know too?” Jensen rolled his eyes. “You gonna tell the world? Everyone seems to know.”

“You’re crossing your arms, wearing a long sleeve shirt that is Big and Tall. And it’s buttoned up all the way.”

Jensen stared past the doctor.

“Jensen?”

“Oh. Yeah. Fine, yes. Am I going to get in trouble with you too?”

“People don’t get in trouble here. I’m guessing someone found out?”

Jensen explained that YN found out first and then Danneel had been treating him with kid gloves since the girls found out.

“What’d you do with the blade?”

“YN and I threw it out. She made me walk it to the trash. I didn’t want it in the house for her to find anyway. She used to self-harm too.”

“Wow. You three are really close.”

“Not anymore. Not after a few days ago. YN won’t even talk to me, and Danneel is acting weird because she found out I was hurting myself. I know she looks me over to see if I’ve done it lately. She doesn’t say anything, but I know she does.”

“Can you blame her?”

“No,” Jensen sighed.

“What happened the other day with YN?”

“I told her I didn’t like coming here and I didn’t want to talk about anything related to therapy, and she flipped out and said I needed to deal with my stuff and just do it. No offense, doc.”

“None taken. I get it. People don’t want to talk about feelings. Psychologists are often the faces of negative feelings.”

“True.”

“Homework,” Dr. Brown smiled.

“No,” Jensen whined.

“Therapy is work, my friend,” the doctor put his notes to the side.

“Check on YN two times a day. Text, call, be in the same room, whatever fits the context. You don’t even have to say anything if you don’t want to.”

“That’s it?” Jensen squinted at the doctor.

“You’ll find it’s harder than you might think,” Dr. Brown laughed. “Go, get out of here. I know that’s what you’ve been thinking about for the last hour. You’re free, go home,” Dr. Brown opened the office door to a hallway.

“Thanks, doc.”

FEELING THE BURN

@supraveng

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kennedycatherine · 4 years

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things may be shitty but sometimes I'm shittier

I’m overheard retelling half a joke my friends have heard 30 times over. One of the greats in my rotating stock of five.

“Wait, what’s this about?” Asks someones boyfriend and I lean on an elbow, angle myself toward him with a grin.

“It’s actually a really funny story.”

His girlfriend rolls her eyes, “it’s not funny.”

My eyebrows go up, in, “I think it’s funny?”

“Kennedy,” she begins and looks at me with even eyes, “it makes people uncomfortable.”

She says it like a mother warning her toddler not to pull his pants off in front of the dinner guests, not again. And I feel a lot like he might;

Defiant - it is a funny story, I’ve done the math on which details can stay in, which have to go out, I know where to pause for a laugh or a sigh. He’d probably like it.

Ashamed - it probably isn’t funny to everyone, perhaps my math was just enough to keep people engaged, the pauses great for a sympathy laugh. He probably wouldn’t like it.

“Another time,” he whispers with a soft, consoling smile and I silently curse his girlfriend.

Fuck you, Kierstan, you don’t know the first thing about comedic timing.

The story in question is about the time I found my sister cold and unconscious. I thought she was dead. The punchline about my being in a pink velour costume when the EMT’s arrived and the bit about the stolen laffy taffy, oh and her not being dead - fully worth the undeniable emotional lows.

Believe me when I say that in some circles, it’s a funny story. There are branches of comedy, Netflix specials, peoples entire careers and livelihoods that are rooted in dark comedy - there is a vast market for illuminating and lightening the horrifying. Also trust me when I say I know how deeply unfunny it is to watch someone you love overdose.

The story is funny now. A few years ago it wasn’t. It was a nearly unspeakable thing. An experience that happened and it wasn’t funny.

But life goes on.

You have no choice.

Around the time of the pink velour tracksuit and the laffy taffy, I found myself laughing uncontrollably at my desk. I’d just left the job I’d gone to college for and found myself in the pit of broken dreams - an 8 to 5 desk job. The absolute thrill of it all - somedays you might file, somedays you might answer a few more calls than usual. Somedays your boss might ask you to bend over and pick up his pencil while you wear the skirt it was gently (but firmly) implied was mandatory. Mandatory only in the sense that no one could tell you that you couldn’t wear pants but they sure were more forgiving of car naps running 15 minutes over if they could glimpse a knee.

And boy, did I need the car naps.

It’s funny because I thought I was doing great. Really, for awhile I thought I was the best I’d ever been. I was laughing pretty much all the time, at everything. I’d never found the world more funny. By all accounts, I was having a great time.

So imagine my surprise when one day I found my eyes full, my face damp and my car hurdling down the highway past the exit to my work. When I did arrive, this time with pants, therefor low forgiveness - I was asked to my boss’ office for a closed door meeting.

Why was I late?

Somehow telling my boss that I wasn’t exactly sure the reason but my brain was telling me I should just keep driving, maybe to the next town, maybe for hours, maybe until the border, didn’t really seem like an option. “I think I have the flu.”

Despite all the things I didn’t know, I did know I didn’t have the flu. I found myself laid out in my doctors office anyway.

When he finally threw the door open, all white coated and anxious, just like I like em’ - I sat up. We made a sort of frenzied eye contact and he asked me what was wrong.

“I think I might be, like, totally fucking losing it.”

I left with a plan and antidepressants.

It all sounds kind of simple and quaint.

But it wasn’t.

Stopping to consider if you’re a danger to yourself or anyone else so your doctor can qualify if you need counselling, pills, maybe a psychiatric hold isn’t charming. Those first few weeks of pills, even though you’ve been told and you know you’ll feel worse for awhile, they’re simply awful. This isn’t some beautiful woman on HBO popping a white pill with her chardonnay, suddenly noticing a pink bloom on her neglected cactus. This is ugly and painful before it’s anything else.

And slowly it did become “anything else” … most of the time.

Depression isn’t a joke. But it is a static way of being that loses it’s edge.

It softens. Like a shitty haircut, you come to expect the blunt, harsh edges. Your body adjusts to the sight of it. It’s still kind of scary to look at but you know what to expect.

Life goes on.

It’s just not precious anymore.

I could barely say I’d been diagnosed. I only told the people who were close enough to see the new medication was wearing me out. Now it’s an introductory fact, “Hi, Kennedy Catherine, daughter, lover, lesbian, writer, major depressive disorder.”

I felt for a long time like it was all behind me. The worst was over! Family, outside of some trick hearts, healthy. Depression, diagnosed, plans made, helpful medications on standby. Experiencing another dark episode seemed dull, ya know? Just a tad fucking redundant. Been there, done it, bored by it.

Then: March 2020.

There was a period of limbo. I still had a job, I just couldn’t be there or do it until things got better - hardy har. I packed up my truck and settled into my families cabin for five or six weeks. It was fine, I was fine, I thought. One day I went out for a walk and awhile later watched my sister rumble through a long stretch of prairie toward me on an ATV. My phone was dead and I’d be gone, oh, three hours longer than expected?

“What happened?”

I just kind of… lost track of time? Lost my sense of direction? I don’t know, I thought. I was here but I sort of went away from myself for a second. When I sunk into the bath later with achy muscles and a blister, I felt nervous.

Now, I haven’t scared myself in years. My depression isn’t so severe that I feel unsafe with myself. Anything I did or have done to effectively terrify myself, I shed by the time I was 20. Because that can happen, you can do that. You can change coping mechanisms and learn real, healthy ways to parent yourself. The mood instability that came later, the dark times, I still felt mostly fortified. I felt like I could figure it out, like I still had access to myself to do the figuring out.

But I could feel myself slipping away this time.

I was talking fast about something or another when I finally said to my mom, “I think I might need help.” I wasn’t sure exactly what I meant because I didn’t really know how to help myself and I wasn’t really sure what was wrong.

And that in and of itself is a problem. I didn’t know what was wrong?

I was out of the job that got me out of bed Monday to Friday for three and a half years, I left the house that had become my comfort cathedral, I hadn’t seen any of my closest friends in months, I was living with my sister and my mother who I hadn’t spent longer than a handful of days with in like five years. There was global fear and uncertainty and the risk of contracting a virus that could or could not kill you but I didn’t know… what was wrong? Well that’s just deeply moronic.

Sometimes when you need help, or when I need help, that does come in the form of professional counselling or medications or an anonymous support group. Sometimes, it’s just circumstantial and circumstances can change.

I went home.

And in a few weeks, when I’d more or less returned to myself, I could clearly see the hills and valleys my mind had just wandered. I felt strength again, a sense of renewal and excitement about my imminent return to work and society.

Then I actually lost my job.

I know, redundant. I’m tired of myself too. But bullshit is cyclical, that’s just a fact.

And if there is one thing I’ll give myself credit for, it’s my ability to immediately concoct a backup plan in the face of a threat. Moments after I was officially terminated, texts and emails went out. The idea of not knowing where my next paycheque would come from and how much it would be, having lost the place I strolled into everyday with a sense of purpose and not knowing when and where I’d have that again was simply not an option.

My head went down, I narrowed focus and the efforts resulted in… enough. I’m living. Which wasn’t and isn’t the hope for life. Unstable stagnancy is deeply uncomfortable.

So, generally speaking, things are not great.

I lost my humbly secure job. A place I comfortably could’ve lived and died if I’d prioritized everything other than work and my sort of crippling ambition. This effectively led me down the path of questioning every decision I’ve made past the age of 16. First and foremost, choosing radio. An industry that was at it’s peak in the 1930’s and on the decline ever since was perhaps not the most lucrative or secure of career choices.

My romantic life developed far enough to remind me that often times I am a crusty, avoidant crustacean human and suddenly all those popular tweets about my deep emotional inabilities and intimacy issues seemed, well, not that funny.

I decided I probably shouldn’t drink. I don’t have a drinking problem but I do have a problem with drinking. Namely, waking with no memory, my legs shaking and my stomach clenched so tightly I could sense my body wanted to flee - itself, mostly. And let’s not forget the part where I get fighty and mean.

When shit hit the fan and then shot off the blades into the face of life in my early twenties, it wasn’t my fault. To be clear, mental health is a no fault area. I was always predisposed to depression, mental illness is genetic. I had no control over that. But there were plenty of variables, extenuating circumstances if you will, that I also had no control over but sure as fuck could and did blame other people for.

This is not the same thing.

This is a moment where it is necessary to discern illness from circumstance and living from coping.

Like I said, bullshit is cyclical. And it this point, it’s pretty much just my own bullshit on repeat, forever and ever amen. At twenty or twenty three, when the circumstances weren’t my fault, it also felt like my reactions weren’t my fault. I was floundering, I didn’t know better. I learned some hard lessons about how I cope and handle things. I learned that I didn’t really like the person I was when I was figuring out how to survive myself and life.

I was unkind, a lot.

I hated the way that felt, I hated the way it affected my relationships and decided to learn from it.

Except, I didn’t learn. I said, great, noted. Dashed a nice little ~fini!~ at the end of that chapter, closed er’ on up and bypassed the bookshelf for the dusty box in the corner labelled, “garage sale.” Because surely no one would need to read that again!

And then a few weeks ago when I had a breakthrough in counselling, I dug that chapter back up and allowed myself a few days of surprise. Bitch, you been done knew the WHOLE time. This isn’t news, this isn’t shocking. This is the part of you that developed somewhere along the way and it didn’t work and you didn’t like it but! But. It was comfortable. So you gave it a few years and then when things fell out of control again, let it settle back in all warm and snuggly.

You know what they say. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, I guess I need to financially prioritize a CBT therapist.

So here I am, again.

Only this time feels deeply, deeply different. Because it’s not the first.

I sat down with a friend to tell her how I was feeling. How much I felt like I needed and wanted to change my default settings.

I need a factory restore.

“I think you’re being hard on yourself.”

No, no, I have grace for myself! I actually have a lot of understanding. I’m parenting myself through this which includes showing myself love while I also discipline.

“I just feel like maybe you were doing the best you knew how.”

Well, I mean, sure? Sometimes? But there were moments where I knew I was saying or doing the wrong thing, where I was even challenged by someone else but I wasn’t challenging myself, you know?

“Well maybe that’s just who you are?”

Right… but this is also who I am? And we do actually have a say in that, you know? Like how I evolved from throwing toddler tantrums on the grocery store floor? I could actually just keep doing that, no one is stopping me, but I don’t.

“I think you’re being self deprecating and that is not healthy.”

Since when is self identifying a problem self deprecation?

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

… but change is hard?

I appreciate that people want to protect me from myself or from bad feeling or whatever they perceive that all to be. More often than not, I think they, we, you, I, we’re all just trying to protect ourselves. But it’s not helpful. Pretending that everything is fine and that we’re fine and adopting an overarching, “I am perfect as I am, namas-fucking-te” mantra isn’t actually helpful.

What’s the harm in me saying I have been shitty? That I have acted poorly? That I have neglected to be better when there was clearly a different option? That I wasn’t honestly showing myself to people when I could’ve or allowing them space in me?

That it’s… not nice? That just like the joke about my sister not being dead, it’s not comfortable to listen to? It’s true and it is compassionate to view yourself as a whole, to know yourself and think I actually do like myself and this life enough to want to be better.

Just like what is coined the unfortunate evening of Velour and Ambulances or the depression diagnosis or life being turned on it’s head by a plague sent from hell, once it was deeply painful and then it wasn’t. None of this is precious. Being a shitty person sometimes isn’t a rare affliction. You’ve been shitty before, you’ll do it again, I’ll do it again, hey, you might even be shitty right now! Isn’t that something?

Things are not great right now. They’ve been not great tens of times before. Only this time it isn’t taking me 2 to 4 years to talk and laugh about it. Because this is a muscle, the shit muscle and it’s exercised. It’s buff.

And you know what? Things could be worse. They could even get worse now! I’m hoping they don’t but they certainly could, and in the thick of it, we’ll always have that glimmering possibility to hold onto.

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inkskinned · 6 years

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literally just a dumb unorganized list of school tips

source: im a grad student. i’ve had a lot of school. also i’m adhd & mentally ill and require +8 organization. this is mostly directed @ college students, but maybe high school students can use it too, fuck, idk, it’s been forever since i was stuck in that hell hole

just say “professor” either ur using the correct title for a person (will make them feel good) or you’re giving them a bigger title on the assumption they deserve it (which will make them feel good) and also prevents having to ever i mean ever use their names

talk at least 1 time a week in each class, aim for 1 time a day. even lecture classes. i fucking hate talking in front of more than 5 people, so what i would do is prepare a question about the hw/etc (even if i didn’t need it answered) to ask the professor after class so they saw me and got used to me and saw i was invested in their class. about 89% of teachers - if they see you try, they will pass you. i mean it’s literally that easy. i know people who went from like a c- but because they legit tried, their grade got bumped up to a b-.

if u have to bring a laptop, pre-download the required material/screenshot it, and then turn off your wifi. it’s too easy to not listen.

physical writing will always give you more information recall over typing.

nobody cares about stupid shit anymore trust me they don’t remember that you were accidentally locked in a towel out of your room bc they have their own dumb shit that happened.... in college all the “cringe culture” turns into “god i wish that were me” culture ... wear ur onesie to a party trust me you make +800 friends and 799 of them will be girls telling you you’re adorable and they’d die for you

about locking urself out.... if ur like me and can breeze past post-it notes placed in obvious areas, don’t be a dumb bitch and rely on post-it-notes. while most schools offer 1 free lockout, dont rely on it - it once took 2 hours before someone could get to me. i was in a towel, which meant no phone. so like. anyway, what i do now is i put something on the handle of the door i have to open/unlock. i can’t just open the door w/out the thing falling down and making a loud “you dumb bitch unlock the door before u shower” sound.

this works for all important don’t-forget it things. other obstacles i’ve used to remind myself to do something include: putting a chair with my wholeass posterboard in front of the door, an entire printer with a single piece of paper that just read “for the love of god check to be sure you have that essay”, and a recycling bin i kept forgetting to empty. guess what bitch finally emptied the bin once it was between me and a swift exit!

no offense and like the whole “it’s the best years of your life!” thing is great but in reality everything goes better scholastically when you treat it as “i came here to win, not to make friends.” i still did make friends, went to parties every weekend, was popular enough i’d be invited to several on one night - but i came there to win. when i put my scholastic life and my mental health first, i went from a 2.0 to a 3.98. yes you can, bitch.

you’re spending the money. don’t squander it. trust me when i say i know plenty of people who breeze through, bc you often can. but like. don’t. challenge yourself bc like. talk about an investment.

if you hate your major, change it. don’t make your life something you can’t stand. on that note, do NOT agree 100% to a track until you have at least some experience in the field. i cannot tell u how many ppl i know who got their whole masters/phd program done, walked into their new profession, and were like, Oh Fuck, I Can’t Live Like This.

college literally offers so many free things and if you’re not taking advantage of them whenever possible i get it but like. try to take advantage of them. this is everything from your gym (which probably has free classes dude) to clubs to like. sober events. these sober events are so ... fuckin good dude i’ve made mason jars with little plants in em... bee aviaries... candles.... go to the free stuff

oh ps on free stuff i wanna say about 4 of 5 days there’s free food on campus just look for things like job fairs, presentations, or discussion groups. also while you’re there at the job fair like. u know, go to the job fair in earnest

i took off 2 years to work and also to just. recover from my bullshit. and it took me 6 years and 3 schools to get my bachelor’s. it wasn’t easy but bitch i lived. there’s no such thing as “too long” to graduate if that’s truly what you want to do.

if on the meal plan, eat as clean as you can the first week. then introduce each part of the cafeteria’s possibly-food-poisoning-creating foods one at a time. give @ least 2 days between each experiment so you know for sure if you get sick what caused it. i literally never eat meat at school but you can still get sick off of unwashed lettuce/salad dressing that hasn’t been refrigerated properly/weirdass things you won’t even think of. this prevents like. dying in a public bathroom.

white loaf bread can be gross & boring. discount bakery section for your slightly chewy artisianal bread needs. if overstale, either toast it or dunk it into water and microwave it (unless u got an oven. use the oven if u can)

steal as many apples from the dining hall/events/etc as physically possible just do it they keep FOREVER and @ some point you’ll be like. fUCK i need a nutrition. ps if you’re keeping them in ur backpack (i wouldn’t keep more than 2) make sure to wrap w/a few paper towels so if you drop your bag you don’t get apple mush

write it all down bitch. “i’ll remember it” no you won’t. unless you are capable of remembering every idea on this list and in order, you won’t remember it. in general, if you write something 3 times, you will recall it correctly at least 80% of the time. i also read it out loud to myself, bc, you know, auditory recall

DO NOT just put your assignment at the top of your notes, unless you’re 100% sure that will work for you. in most cases, it’s much better to have a planner/agenda/place you expect to look for assignments. +7 points if you lie to yourself about deadlines and move them all up.

like not to sound too much like a DARE ad but like. if you don’t like it/don’t want it, don’t fuckin do it. the idea that “there’s nothing to do if you don’t party” is such bullshit. like i promise if you’re like “i am a grouch and want to stay in and binge netflix” about 45 ppl will show up in pjs like “bitch fullscreen it, im a grouch too.” there’s also like. the chance to just.... not overindulge. on wednesdays i have “wine wednesdays” where we sit around and drink a glass of wine while we do our hw. it’s chill and friendly instead of like. drink until u vomit. don’t feel like you either gotta slam the breaks or the gas pedal, is what i mean.

PLEASE know the signs of alcohol poisoning/overdose. most schools have a “Safety Always Matters Most” policy, which means that you can call for help w/out getting into trouble. if you think someone is in danger, act. this also goes for making sure ppl get home safe even if they’re just incapacitated, not poisoned. step in, dudes.

also just. notice when ur starting to rely on stuff too much. i’m super easily addicted to things, so i keep a healthy distance from liquor. i don’t let myself “drink to feel better” bc that’s a scary, scary thing to link to feeling better. if you or somebody u know starts drinking all the time/gets anxious if they don’t drink/drinks in the daytime .... get help. schools have counselling services for a reason.

you’re gonna get a cold/flu of some sort in the first 2 months just brace for it. in the meantime, drink vitamin c, try not to touch too many handles, and when people say “there’s something going around” believe them.

watch kaplan nike just do it

if you can teach it, you know the material. a super good way of knowing if you studied the right way is to try and teach the material to a stuffed animal/imaginary class.

“i don’t know how to study” bitch me too the fuck. this is usually bc we’ve been taught that studying is just sitting down and staring @ ur notes. it’s not. it’s different for everyone, and you need to understand it’s 99% preventative care. if you don’t go to the class or do the homework, studying is going to fucking suck, bc you’re learning the material all at once for the first time. the place you should consider “studying” is “i’m confident in 70-90% of the material, but need to review.” do not let yourself fall behind .... just go to office hours and ask questions if ur not getting something. studying should feel like you’re remembering what you already knew but kinda forgot, not like you’ve been blindsided.

the whole “writing it down in ur own words” while u have been told this 700 times it really helps bc it means u gotta translate it through your own understanding. if you can’t, and it’s not bc the material seems too obvious to you to state in another way - ask yourself if you don’t understand the material. chances are u are missing a bit of info.

i know it’s like A Thing that Some People do but i never had the mental health points for it but i know some people just take 15 minutes after every class to review their notes. since i’m 100% early to every class ever, obnoxiously so, i try to do it before class. having the last class’s notes up in my head super helps. like. put down the phone i know you’re socially anxious me too but review those notes. chances are if u start flipping through pages other ppl will too. this is also fun bc as soon as you start this whole thing, at least one person will be like “is there a test?” no bitch there’s no test but im gonna be ready when there is!

literally so much of success is fucking posturing i could link about 800 peer-edited studies that show that when a student is expected to do well (and knows they are), they do well. like i literally didn’t change my appearance at all, never bothered to look nice (once winter hits i wear 67 layers all the time), but when i showed up after my 2 years off from school, i presented myself with the whole “i came here to win” vibe and people... really respected me? i mean in hs i remember ppl saying shit like “yeah, well, you aren’t gonna have the homework”. by the time i was in college i had an honest-to-god conversation which included someone being like “so tell me what you’re overachieving at right now” like they just expected it from me. wild.

i live by “bite off more than you can chew, and then CHEW IT” but it’s probably unhealthy. the truth is that i have a lot of energy all the time (lmao adhd!!!) and i used to get told i was “trying too hard” and for a long time (still???) i didn’t (i don’t?) know what that was, you know, bc i had a D average, clearly i wasn’t trying. it turns out i was just. putting all my energy into stuff that wasn’t making me happy like toxic friendships etc. when i decided “nope, all this energy is for me and my schoolwork”..... uhhhhh suddenly i was a golden child and everyone praised my try-hardness ... it’s a fuckt up system tbh

take at least 1 class just for fun. i try to do that every semester. it helps break up all the requirements. if you’re like an engineer and got no time or credits left to spend, try to audit your fun course.

make ur advisor love you i don’t care what it takes make them cupcakes show up to thank them i dONT CARE just do it

the library isn’t always the best place. if i start getting anxious bc i pavlovian train myself that library=work, i find a new place to go to do hw. try to go outside if you can!!! not like where i live bc like it’s snow all the time but try. a little green really really really helps depression.

if you’ve been in the same “Studying” place for 1 hour and haven’t done anything the chances are Something Isn’t Right. first, look @ ur body. are you not focusing bc of some pressing physical need? sometimes just taking a shower and coming back helps. are you uncomfy? are you too comfy and going to sleep? if body okay, look @ the material. do you not understand it? do you just need to switch to a new topic for a little bit? can you find a youtube video that will help you better understand it? make notes on what you don’t get so you can ask in the next class. if it’s not the material, it’s not ur bod, check the Actual Space. sometimes just getting up, going for a short walk to a new place, and trying it there actually? really works? if none of this is working.... try ur brain next. hardest to reset bc like, what, turn it on and off again? i use things like caffeine, a short workout, a nap, or a podcast all to just... give me a little boost.

don’t be afraid to leave. i mean this about class, friend groups, and the college ur at. just get up on outta there if ur not feelin it. i cannot recommend “drop the class” enough. even if it’s a required course see if u can switch the times if u hate the professor day 3 it’s not gonna get better just get the fuCK out

don’t nap in the same position u go to sleep in, nap upside down w/ur head away from ur pillow. don’t ask me why but it works to 1. fall asleep faster 2. make sure u sleep okay at night and 3. wake up less annoyed

on that note don’t ever do anything in ur bed in a sleeping position unless it’s genuinely sleeping in it. body will get confused. just sit up, lazybones.

when/if the library has those therapy dogs during finals week.... just go pet them make the time for it

ask before hugging people, but don’t expect a “yes”

get a backpack that fits and doesn’t hurt ur back u fuckin hippie idc how cool it is to wear ur backpack super low just don’t do it it’s not worth it

the tutoring center is a fucking goldmine.... free essay edits my dudes

bring a fan dorms are always hotter than u expect

switch dorms if u can if u realize ur in the wrong room/wrong roomate like just don’t bother with nonsense

when in doubt, follow preschool rules. tell ppl when they did something cool, just ask when u need help, and be confident even in your mistakes, because at least u tried

#anyway

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pjdredful · 5 years

Text

The AV Club

Chapter 1

"You know Evie, you've been coming to me for three months now. In that three months you've only spoken once. Just once to ask for water." Tony leans back in his comfy chair and taps his notebook with the end of his pen. I shrug lightly at it and continue playing with the frayed patch at the knee of my jeans. He gives a soft sigh and nods mostly to himself, I think, rather than to me. "I know you resent these meetings but the fastest way to get them over with is to actually participate." I give him a blank look and roll my eyes. Tony is my therapist, or he would be if I actually spoke to him but I don't because I don't need a therapist. I'm not crazy. I let him sit in silence a little longer before I check my watch. We still have fifteen minutes but sometimes when I look bored he lets me go early. I think he's almost going to let me go when he switches it up on me. "Your mother said you're having nightmares again."

"Step-mother." His brow goes up slightly but he only nods in acknowledgement or acceptance or whatever.

"She says they're coming almost every night now. That must be frustrating for you." For a second I consider making a smart remark but my mother, my real one, always said if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Which is why I'm quiet about 85 percent of the time. It's not like anyone would believe anything I said anyway so I usually just skip over communicating entirely. "When I was about your age I had some pretty weird dreams too. I'd wake up in a cold sweat, confused, scared, and angry all rolled into one. The worst part was, I didn't think anyone would understand because I wasn't entirely sure I understood."

Ten minutes to go. I flick my eyes toward him and try to keep from looking as bored as I feel. So what if he had nightmares? I'm pretty sure they weren't scenes of the end of the world and everyone he ever loved dying in a violently bloody demon apocalypse. The truth is when I say it like that I can't really blame Jo-lynn for thinking I'm a whack job and forcing me to complete my legally mandated therapy sessions. You wake the house screaming about the end of the world enough times it's bound to make even the most rational of people look like a maniac. Tony gives it a beat and looks at the clock over my shoulder before giving a resigned nod. "Okay well its a few minutes early but I can see you're still not ready to talk." He closes his blank notebook and rests it on the edge of the coffee table very deliberately. He's not the first therapist I've been dragged to over the years, and even though I don't talk to him, he's actually kind of the best. The most patient for sure but even patient people have limits. He offers me a slightly tired smile and clasps his hands between his knees lightly. "I get that you don't want to talk to me because I'm the person your step-mom picked. I get that you think this is all a bullshit waste of time and I'm an idiot, and I might be. But I'm here if you do want to talk about what's on your mind."

A bullshit waste of time. I couldn't have said it better myself and I can't help but chuckle a little. He smiles back at me probably thinking we've made some progress here. Maybe we have. I've smiled even less than I've spoken. "You're not an idiot." He gives me a slight nod and I continue. "But this is totally a bullshit waste of time. I'd say sorry about it but you still get paid, talking or not, right?"

He leans back in his chair again and rests his chin on his fist. "Well we're talking now, so I guess I'm earning my pay."

Hm. He has a point. I roll my eyes at him but I'm not really bothered. "Time's up, Doc. Good talk though."

Tony stands and opens the door to the hallway out of his office. "You know I'm not a doctor right?"

I'm almost all the way through the door when I snort. "You know I'm not a psycho right?"

"Evie…." I wave it off because psycho is one of those no no words now. "Now wait." He puts a hand out, not really touching me but letting me know he wants me to listen. "No one thinks you're a psycho. No one thinks you're crazy or out of control or anything like that.” God. His face is so earnest.

I give him a look and wait a beat. “Well I dunno the judge at my hearing seemed to think I’m very out of control.” That was all just a misunderstanding. Honestly. I’m not on drugs! Okay. Well. At the very least I wasn’t on drugs when I got arrested.

Tony just grins at me and nods his head a little as if accepting that yes obviously someone thought I was nuts. His quiet chuckle fades and he shrugs a tweed covered shoulder. “Your mom just thinks you need someone to talk to about the things you feel."

He almost freaking had me. Almost. "Step-mom." It's too late to fix and he knows it so I wink and slip my earbuds in as I stroll down the hall out to the waiting room. Sandra the receptionist waves to me as I slide out the patient exit door and head for the bus stop. I skip through my mp3 player until I reach my favorite song by The Decemberists. Los Angeles I'm Yours plays just loudly enough to drown out the sounds of most traffic as I sit at the bus stop waiting for the number 18. I'm not thrilled about having to see Tony twice a week but the truth is today is the closest I've come to wanting to talk about it. The nightmares, the demons, the monsters, the devil, and my AP biology midterm. All of the horrible things that keep me up at night. I'm so deep in thought that for a second I don't realize that a shit brown 1988 Ford Taurus is idling roughly at the curb where the bus stops.

My bestfriend Nat pokes his head out of the passenger window and whistles to get my attention. "Yo…crazy face! Get in!" I shake my head with a laugh and run to the car, hurrying to beat the bus just pulling in with a nasty honk at Nat and his brother. I fling myself in to the back seat, squishing into a warm, soft body with a slight blush.

"Hey Lirae." She gives me a smirking smile because it's pretty much the only kind she knows how to give. I pull my seatbelt around and fumble for a second looking for the part to click into before I realize that Lirae is sitting on it. And still watching me with that serene calm that lets me know that she's purposely sitting on the seatbelt thing.

"Problem?" I fidget a little before letting go of the seatbelt altogether. Forget it. I'd rather be flung to my death through the windshield. I can feel my face burning as she chuckles and bumps my shoulder with hers. Lirae’s usually on but currently off again boy toy makes an annoyed tsking sound and a really nasty beer burp. She turns her head to give him a disgusted look. "Gross Orson. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"No. I kiss yours." She elbows him in the gut hard enough to make him choke out a breath before she reaches across my body to pull my seatbelt back over. I go still as a frightened mouse and try not to think about how close we all are in this tiny rusting deathtrap and how warm Lirae's hands are at my hip as she buckles me in.

"Can't have our girl getting hurt can we?" Uhhh. My brain has momentarily stopped functioning at the softly whispered comment. Orson is watching her very closely and I know that he's going to make my life miserable. He's the one friend of my super small circle that isn't really a friend. More like a tolerable associate. I wouldn't talk to him at all if it weren't for Lirae bringing him to the AV Club. Once he was in he kind of just took root. Like a really annoying weed.

"So what's the diagnosis? Is Evil Evie still cray cray?" There it is. I roll my eyes and don't even bother to hide the smile when Lirae elbows him again. "What? The kid is a train wreck, we all know that already."

Nat turns around in his seat as much as he can and nods at me. "Don't listen to dickwad there. He's just in a bad mood because Coach chewed him a new asshole at practice." I'm not that girl you know? The cheerleading, team sport loving, school spirit having All American Girl. That's just not me. For one thing I'm not even sure how football works. And for another I'd much rather date the prom queen than the prom king. Plus there's that whole thing where the weird paranormal shit that only happens in movies and TV seems to always happen to me. I don't mean to imply that I'm a cosmic joke and a walking magnet for the weird and terrifying. I mean to outright state fact. I am a living, breathing, magic and mayhem magnet. All that scary hoodoo crap you think can't be real? It is.

So no. I'm not the girl that hangs with the pep squad or the popular kids. Orson however, well. He's the top jock and he acts like it too. I smile at Nat and shrug. "Like water off a duck's back." Nat chucks me under the chin playfully and turns back in his seat as we cruise along toward the clubhouse. See? Tony shouldn't feel bad, I don't talk even to my friends. "What are you guys doing here anyway? I thought we were meeting at the clubhouse at seven." It's not quite six yet but any change of plan that keeps me off the public busses is okay by me.

Mo looks at me through the rearview mirror and shrugs. "We were at The Harbor." My brows come up a little at that. The Harbor isn't a place for boats and beaches in our town. The Harbor is a very seedy bar where you can acquire just about anything if you have the money and don't sweat the small details. Like, where said purchased thing came from, or even knowing the name of the person you bought it from. Needless to say The Harbor is the last place a bunch of teenagers should be. And yet…we know it well. At least I know it well. Well enough to get arrested for being underage in a bar I had no business being in. My punishment? Mandatory rehabilitative counseling. I wasn't there to drink but when I told the undercover officer that detained me that I was there to see a man about a stone he just assumed I actually said I was there to see a man about getting stoned. Like I said. Misunderstanding.

"Any news?" I try hard to keep the hopeful note out of my voice. Everyone in this car knows my deal. Average dorky high school student by day, metaphysical super magnet by night. Well. That part is really a 24 hour deal but since most of the paranormal crap is powered by moonlight I get a reprieve. Just in time for those oh so thrilling biology classes. This weird dark attraction has been my curse since my eleventh birthday and there hasn't been a damn thing I can do about it. In short I'm just like Mo and Nat, Orson and Lirae. Well. Possibly not exactly like Lirae. I'm not sure there's anyone quite like her. But what I mean is that I'm just as normal as the next geek. I can't see or hear anything different than any other human, all I can do is 'sense' the darkness. It's more of a gut instinct which is so much more difficult to explain to a rational human being. Hey a demon thing is in town. Oh how do I know? Because I can feel it. What does it look like? Well I'm not sure really since I only ever see things like that in my horrible puke inducing nightmares. Yeah. This is my life.

I watch Mo's lips curl in a slight smile even though he doesn't say anything. I'm hoping that means good news for me and bad news for my nightmares. He pulls off the main road taking a little used dirt switchback track. Orson, Lirae and I bounce around in the back like sacks of laundry, grabbing on to any surface that will keep us stationary as the car rolls over the rutted and uneven path. Mo banks a curve that throws Lirae's body in to mine hard enough to make my head smack the window. I'd grumble but I'm too terrified to move because I'm pretty sure there is a boob on my arm. Lirae rights herself by pushing off my knee with a grunt and I breathe. I can feel the heat of her hand still on my knee right through my jeans. Probably it’s the closest I’ll get to being groped by another human being again in my life. I make sure to avert my gaze toward the window to hide the creeping red flush up my face. Maybe if I don’t move, she won’t either. As the car skids to a stop in front of the dilapidated shack we call a clubhouse I curse my ineptitude in all things romantic.

"Hey Mo, grab the equipment while me and Orson get the cooler out of the trunk." I look up at Nat's tall, broad shouldered back as I extricate myself from the backseat of the car. He turns his curly blonde head to catch me giving him the curious side eye and smiles innocently. Well if I wasn't suspicious of him needing 'help' with the cooler before, that too casual innocent look certainly seals the deal now. I open my mouth to ask why he needs help but Nat cuts me off "Hey you and Lirae kick on the generator. I think there's still a full gas can in the shed." Okay he's being weird. I stand there a little confused when Lirae rests an elbow on my shoulder to watch the boys wrestle the extra-large camp cooler out of the trunk of the car.

"He's being weird, right?" My thoughts exactly. I glance at her with a grin and shake my head.

"When isn't he? C'mon it's getting dark already." I really don't like being outside of the clubhouse when it's dark out. Not because of monsters and ghosts but because there be wildlife in them there hills. What? Raccoons are terrifying! Lirae follows me but not before reaching out quick little hands to tickle my ribs.

"Watch out! The raccoons will get you." Asshole. I slap at her hands and squirm away with a little squeak of protest. I'm a little more glad for the dimness of dusk than I was a few minutes ago because at least it hides my blush as she laughs at my responses.

"Laugh all you want but probably you're the one they'll eat first when the Critterpocalypse comes." I pull out my phone to use as a flashlight when I duck under the low door frame of the shed. It used to be a child's playhouse sitting a few feet away from the main shack so it's a little cramped with the generator and two people. As usual if it could happen, it does, and always to me. I make a small disgusted sound and try to wipe the cobwebs from the side of my face. Fantastic. "Ugh. Gross. Here, hold this will ya?"

Lirae takes the phone from my hand and directs it at the generator for me. I take a tick to check the fuel gauge just to make sure before I yank the ripcord a few times to turn the motor on. It sputters to life with a roar and the sound of music floats back to us on the warm breeze. I can just see Lirae's full lipped mouth curve into a smile in the dim light from my phone. "You're a mess."

I stand still as she steps in closer to pick the thick gauzy web out of my hair. "Thanks." I clear my throat, suddenly a little unsure and super uncomfortable. Maybe it's the gas fumes. They're making me feel all fuzzy headed and belly floppy like I just got off a rollercoaster. Or maybe it's just being this close to Lirae, alone, in the dark. She pulls the last web away and we're just standing face to face. Her hazel eyes look black in the shadow and suddenly much closer than they were a second ago. So close I can see her heavy lashes fall closed as we lean in closer for a kiss. The second, the absolute second, I close my eyes finally deciding to do something, anything, Orson's voice breaks the silence and causes me to jerk back.

"Hey fucker, answer the phone. Hey fucker, answer the phone. Hey fucker, answer th…" I glare at my phone in indignation. That little shit changed my ringtone for his number! Lirae sighs and tips her head back with an unhappy laugh and answers it. I'm too embarrassed to realize at first that she hadn't moved an inch at the sound of his voice.

"What?" It's clipped and to my ears a little frustrated but that could be hopeful thinking on my part.

"Hurry your sweet ass up the beer is getting warm." The beer is in no way getting warm. It’s just that Orson is a dick.

Lirae ends the call and hands me back my phone with a slightly annoyed look. "Hm. Saved by the bell." I want to comment but I don't have anything really to say. Other than sorry. Which judging by the look on her face is not the appropriate response. When I can't come up with anything helpful she lets out another sigh and leaves me standing in the dark of the shed. All by my lonesome. Great.

By the time I make my way in to the clubhouse everyone is settled on the mismatched furniture we've managed to squirrel away here. I take a beer and my usual seat in the bright yellow bean bag chair that Orson's little brother meant to throw out. There's a rip in the seam at the back. Not enough to spew little balls of polystyrene filler but enough to make it sound rude every time I sit in it. Everyone snickers a little and I roll my eyes. "So. What happened at The Harbor?"

I glance at each of them but they all turn their attention to Mo. Despite being brothers Nat and Mo don't really look alike. Aside from the curly hair they're as different as two people could be. Mo is built more like a swimmer, sinewy and thin, his shoulders slump a little from years spent in front of a computer screen. Heavy lidded dark eyes spark with anticipation and I'm immediately caught in the expectancy of the moment. "I got a call from Manny while you were at your appointment. Warrow is back."

Warrow. Oh man I hate that smelly guy. He has a bad habit of trying to grab my ass every time I have to talk to him. "Where was he this time?"

Not that it matters much. Like I said. Don't sweat the details and everything is okie dokie. "Nepal. And he brought you this." Mo holds up a blackened stone with what looks like patches of rust colored mud caked to it. "He said and I quote 'To chase 'way night horrors so that me sweet lassie c'n dream of my…"

"Okay gross I don't even need to hear the rest." I reach out a hand and take the stone. It's warm in my hand and a little heavier than I thought it would be. It smells like dust and something earthier that I can't identify. Up close it looks like a turd but if it's a magic turd I guess that's okay.

"So what do you think? Is it the real deal?" It's hard to say so I shrug at Nat, still eying my magic turd rock.

"I dunno but we'll see what happens tonight." I tuck it away in my pocket before finally cracking open my beer to sip at it. I'm not a big drinker but I need something to do right now to keep my focus from drifting back to what almost happened in the shed. "How much did he ask for it? Was it a lot?"

Everyone goes quiet except Orson. He chuckles and stretches his muscular dark skinned arms over his head. "He didn't want money." I look at Nat and Mo who are suddenly and very determinedly looking everywhere but me. That only leaves one person who will tell me what's going on. I look at Lirae and even she looks a little uncomfortable as she plays with her own fingers. Why do I feel like I’m going to hate whatever is going to come out of her mouth?

"You owe him a future favor of his choosing." Yup. I hate it. Oh God. Knowing Warrow this future favor may involve nudity, lewd and illegal acts, drugs and or alcohol and dark magics. Not necessarily in that order or combination. My horrified expression makes Orson's chuckle turn in to a barely choked back guffaw. "Don't freak! We totally specified nothing sexual or illegal. Promise."

I must still look a little freaked out because she moves off the floral patterned loveseat she was sharing with Orson to sit on the floor next to my chair. Somehow this makes it all mostly better. "Well, I guess if this works it will be worth it. I don't know how much more Jo-lynn can stand." Lirae reaches up to tug one of my braided pigtails playfully and I guess that means she's done being irritated with me.

"So what's the plan Evil Evie? We looking for boogiemen tonight or what?" More like or what. While terrifying and more than a little gross and overly graphic, my nightmares haven't been anything really solid. Just images of what could happen. I haven't been getting the 'feeling' that something wicked has wandered in to our town. Or if it has it's doing an amazing job of hiding itself. I shrug a little and shake my head.

"I don't know. Aside from the dreams it's been pretty quiet. After the poltergeist last month it's like everything has just…gone away." Normal people would look upon this with relief and possibly hope for a better tomorrow. I look at the silence with dread bordering on hysterical anxiety. Evil for lack of a better term, doesn't die, doesn't get tired, and most certainly doesn't forget. The last six years have proved that time and time again to me. Everyone looks disappointed but no one seems to share my apprehension.

"More time to drink!" Orson high fives Nat as they simultaneously chug their beers. My night has definitely taken a down turn.

#my writing #the av club story dredful tales

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goosegoblin · 7 years

Text

Fire Safety 101

The incident in London today is horrifying and seems to be the fault of neglectful landlords. However, this is a damn good time to make sure you know the basis of fire safety and would have a plain in a similar incident. I’m in the UK, so some details may be different depending on your country.

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PREVENTING & PREPARING:

* Do you have an exit plan? How do you get out from upstairs if there's a fire on the stairs? How about if there's a fire outside your room? If you have pets, small children or live with a disabled person, what's your plan on getting them out? Do you have an assembly point? Good guide on making a fire escape plan (along with lots of other stuff): http://www.welephant.co.uk/fireescapeplan.htm

* Check your fire alarm regularly. Ideally you should be testing monthly and changing annually. Most start doing little beeping/ chirping when they need a battery change. Check what batteries it needs well in advance and keep them in your kitchen drawer to reduce delays. On an unrelated note, get a CO monitor too, because they're very useful. If you don't have a fire alarm, please email your landlord right now and tell them you will be needing one ASAP. I'm almost certain it's a legal requirement.

* If you have a fire blanket or fire extinguishers in your house, learn how to use them. If you spray water at an electrical fire you will make things endlessly worse, and only class F extinguishers are licensed for use on deep-fat fryer fires. Here is a good infographic:

Again: LEARN HOW TO USE THEM. If you touch the nozzle of a CO2 extinguisher while using it, you're going to be injured pretty badly. Here's a guide that seems decent on how to use various extinguishers: http://www.safelincs.co.uk/how-to-use-fire-extinguishers/

* Keep your phone charged. 999 calls are free and can be made from a locked phone, but not a dead one... If you're travelling abroad, learn their emergency number. 112 works in a lot of countries (pretty much all of Europe plus some others). It is, again, free and can be dialled from a locked phone. Your mobile phone will use any network it can find can to make the call. Pay-phones will not charge you for emergency calls.

* Don't cook shit when you're drunk. Don't smoke cigarettes indoors. Don't leave candles unattended. Keep doors inside your house closed, as most can hold fire back for 20ish minutes. Keep hallways clear enough to move through and don’t pile shit in front of exits.

* Try to make sure you know who's in the house at any given time. You don't want to tell the firemen that your room mate is trapped inside somewhere when she's actually safely getting drunk at Fabric.

* Know the address of where you are and any nearby landmarks. Emergency services can track your mobile to the nearest tower, which may serve 50,000 people. Landline tracking is a bit more precise, but knowing your address will save everyone a lot of time.

* Knowing basic first aid is pretty much always useful and something everyone should try and do, but that's a whole other guide.

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OH SHIT THERE'S A FIRE:

* If it's like 'oh no I was cooking and now my spring rolls are on fire', you can do your extinguisher jazz. If it's like 'oh no I woke up to my alarm screaming and my room is filling with smoke', get the fuck out. Don't go hunt down a fire.

* If there is a fire near you and you don't feel confident in handling it, DON'T. Just shout (yell 'fire!' to alert others) and GTFO.

* Don't waste time. Don't try getting dressed or putting shoes on or finding valuables. Don't be the person who dies of smoke inhalation because they tried to save their iPad.

* Smoke is the most likely thing to kill you in a fire, so learn what to do if your house is full of it. Crawl on your hands & knees and cover your nose and mouth if you can. If you can get a wet rag, that's ace, but don't waste time trying to get to the bathroom or similar.

* If you suspect there's a fire in your house, touch doors with the back of your hand before going through them. Test the wood, the handle and the hinges. Using the back is important because if you put your hand flat on a handle and it's hot, your hand might jerk closed on it and burn you. If the door is hot, pick a different escape route. Do not go into rooms with fires in them. As you move throughout the house, CLOSE DOORS BEHIND YOU.

* If it's the worst case scenario and you're trapped in a room upstairs, push a towel or similar under the door to seal the crack and prevent smoke coming in. Call 999. Wave and yell out the window. If you're quite high up, waving a sheet out the window can help the fire service spot you.

* If you're upstairs but close enough to the ground to jump out the window, don't stand up on the ledge. Turn towards the building and lower yourself by your fingertips until you're at arms length, then let go. This will reduce your drop and help you land safely. (Konrad adds that gutters are not strong, so don't try and hang on to them.) Keep your knees and feet together and bend your knees as you land to help reduce the impact.

* If you have to break a window to get out, be careful. A man impaled himself and died trying to climb out of a broken window a few years ago. Shield your eyes and use a heavy object to break the glass at the bottom. Cover the spiky shards with a blanket or similar before climbing out.

* You all know this, but don't use lifts in a fire. If they break and get stuck you're going to die in a really unpleasant way.

* If you are in a room with a fire, don't open unnecessary doors/ windows, as the extra oxygen will feed the fire.

* We all learned 'stop, drop and roll' in school, right? If you happen to catch on fire (top tip: try not to!), lie down, cover the flames with a heavy blanket or coat if you can, and roll.

* Call emergency services as soon as it is safe to do so.

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OKAY I ESCAPED THE FIRE:

* Do not go back in the house. Do not let any untrained person go back in the house. You are not a firefighter and it will not go well.

* Check everyone you expect to be at your assembly point is there. When firefighters arrive, tell them if you suspect anyone (humans or pets) are still inside.

* If you've been burned, unfortunately the only real first aid you can do is running it under cold water, which might not be possible. See if a neighbour will let you use their house/ sink/ shower. Don't put ice or creams on the burn.

* Even if you think you're fine, let yourself be examined for signs of smoke inhalation, oxygen deprivation etc.

* After the fire is put out and everything is safe, contact whoever handles your home insurance to see what the heck to do about your burned-ass furniture. Certain organisations can offer financial aid- in the UK, The Red Cross and your local council are good people to contact.

* Fire is really scary, and it's very understandable if you find yourself affected in the long-term by anxiety, PTSD or similar conditions. Talk to your GP about counselling- IAPT offers CBT for low-to-moderate anxiety and depression, the charity Mind offer reduced-price counselling, and there are lots of other options too.

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References:

https://www.nidirect.gov.uk/articles/planning-escape http://gizmodo.com/5941196/how-to-escape-a-burning-building http://www.wikihow.com/Escape-from-a-Fire http://www.london-fire.gov.uk/FireSafety.asp http://www.safelincs.co.uk/how-to-use-fire-extinguishers/ http://www.welephant.co.uk/fireescapeplan.htm

+ having a mother who worked in fire safety for quite some time and drilled into me at a very early age that fire is fuckin' terrifying

#fire #fire safety #fire cw #fire tw #if y'all can reblog heat post and that empathy/advice post 100000000000 times you can most certainly reblog this

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violingurl1999 · 7 years

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Learning to catch fleeting moments.

I am having a hard time. I am having a hard time being an ear for someone I don't want to listen to. I am having a hard time trying to be the voice of reason, only to not be heard. I am having a hard time processing my own feelings, yet trying to understand someone else's which are based in a false reality.

I am struggling to let go of the past so it doesn't cloud up my present or continue to affect my future. Old emotions and wounds have been reopened to a point where I never know when they will attack me. I am tired and worn out, feeling as though I am a volcano ready to erupt. I have been strong my whole life, able to turn my head and my ear, but all that has really done is allow me to take the blow head-on. Literally.

I started counseling again this week. I had been debating whether I should go for a while, and recent events made that decision for me. It was nice and really cathartic to open up and be 100% honest, with nothing holding me back. There is no point in keeping secrets anymore, and that is a beautiful thing.

I need to express this hurt and anger. I need it to leave my body and vanish into the bright blue sky. I need the sun to cast it's warm and inviting beams on me, healing me with its touch. I need to feel at one with the earth as I once did when I was a little girl. I desperately need to know that feeling of relief and total submission to being in the moment.

My life has been hard, that's for sure. Yet it has also been beautiful. I get mad trying to admit happiness or gratitude, because I'm always terrified that the other shoe will drop. I am scared that I will find myself in a state of bliss and a nasty wind will come and blow my happiness away. For too long I've been afraid of living, and I am eager to take the world head-on and relish in the fleeting moments.

I have always dreaded the dark. Nighttime was especially scary because my guard would be down. I couldn't make sure that things were safe, if I couldn't see what was coming. I felt weak and afraid at night; not good qualities for a protector. I hated sleep and still do. I could never get enough of it, and always felt guilty when I could. Like my rest and relaxation wasn't deserved, because I wasn't there when she needed me.

Thursday's were always my favorite day. It was my day of escape. When I got to feel like a child, staying up late at Nana and Papa’s, eating my favorite food, spaghetti, and sleeping in my A-bed, built just for me. No one else could sleep there, just me, Munchkin and TD. Thursday's was when I got to sleep. Though I usually had to lure myself to dreamland. I had to convince myself things were and would be okay. Sticking to that mantra is how I got through my adolescence.

I can't erase my memories, and most of the time, I wish I could. Even many of my good memories have a spot or two of tarnish on the edges. I've wiped most of it away, but quite a bit still haunts me. I have a collection of truly happy memories, but I keep them to myself. Almost as though I am afraid that admitting them out loud will ruin their specialness.

As an adult I struggle the most with allowing myself to be happy. Again, with the shoe-dropping fear. Too many of my past demons haunt me, even when I'm wide awake, and I'm hoping the therapy will scare them away. I've been keeping track of my negative thoughts and meditating. It seems to be helping, and I hope it does.

I just need to get my anger under wraps. Most of the time I feel as though I could explode and jump down the throat of anyone near me. I just want to scream until I'm hoarse or hit something repeatedly. I watch action-adventure movies or crime-fighting shows and get a sense of relief. The idea of operating a fast car at high speeds or karate-chopping my way through a choreographed fight scene leaves me calm. Ironic, that’s for sure, but it helps. I can get caught up in the adrenaline or the thrill of the chase and it slows my internal clock and eases my inner She-Hulk. I adore that my friends call me Smashley, but it also saddens me because of its roots. I still want the nickname, but I’d like to be Bruce Banner more than a big, green fighting machine.

There is hope. I have hope that this is all going to get better. As the saying goes, “it only gets worse before it gets better.” I’ve seen worse, and this isn’t that bad, it’s just difficult and exhausting. It’s already much better, but I’m ready for it to be great. I’m trying to do my part to make it great, piece by piece, step by step. I have a goal that I’ll have my shit together by the time I’m 30. I’m on the right road, I just need to make sure that I take the wrong exit and get lost along the way.

#anxiety #depression #the past #abuse #letting go #strength #power #therapy #seeking help #sleep #can't sleep #worry #fear #happiness #hope

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jwnbwnjwn · 3 years

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Entry 9 (05.09.2021) - (06.04.2021)

Before I get into things, I cant believe I haven’t been on here in almost half a year. Well, to be fair I do get on here, but just for a quick minute to see my small feed and then get off, or whenever I get those notifications from tumblr desperately trying to get me to open their app again. I actually have been meaning to get on here and write, but I guess it became one of things you say and never do. I just felt that there was so much on my life to update on that I kept pushing it back further and further. I know I don't have to, but someday I’d like to see what was going on in my time back in the day - both good and bad, Besides, it’d be an interesting thing for my kids and for my older self to look back upon and see what bullshit went on. Reading off my last entry, I see I brought up that keto diet again. Yeah, that shit never stuck. It was one of those things that I tried once and it went great, and then I kept trying it time after time and it failed every time. Even now, this month, Im still trying to get back into it. And by “getting back into it”, I mean I told Mr. that I was gonna do this diet with him, and then i continued eating like crap - but wait I have an excuse. My sisters birthday was the week that we were supposed to start, so I mean, I couldn’t step out on my sisters birthday bro, I had to eat that good good you know?

Covid is still a thing. Update on that though, I did get vaccinated. My university opened up vaccinations for students and so me and Mr. The first vaccination didn’t hurt at all, to be honest I didn’t even feel the dang thing go in. And it was so funny because after you get the vaccine they monitor you for fifteen minutes and Mr. legit had the worst luck and sat in the only available seat which was in the corner between an Asian girl who was on the verge of throwing up and someone who was laying down in a bed about to pass out. I mean, it was hilarious imagining if they were to throw up on him, and besides with the jokes we made, It was so hard to keep in my laughter. The second vaccine was about two weeks after the first, and there was some sting to that one. I didn’t get any crazy symptoms, but my head was spinning and i felt very tired, the best way I could describe it is when you’re really sleepy and you just wanna sleep all day and your eyes are heavy, like that. Like, the best type of sleepy where you’re about to knock out. The only bad thing to it was your head spinning but thats it, I guess it made you feel very weak aswell.

*Sidenote: It literally took me almost a whole month to come back to this draft and finish it. It is currently 06.04.2021.

Last thing I was talking about was the Covid vaccine. Yeah, the symptoms weren’t too bad, it was just the dizziness I guess. My sister got the vaccine this past month and she experienced the same symptoms as well, and so did Mr., Ice, and my mom. I already finished with my spring semester, and summer classes just started. I’m taking a Crij course this summer just to get it out of the way already, and I am retaking Biol 1 in Summer 2. Aside from this, it has been really shitty. I guess the least worst thing that’s happened so far is that my older brother came to visit back in March this year. I haven’t seen him in a long time, but it wasn’t all exciting. I’m not sure if I’ve talked about him before on here, but long story short, he’s caused my siblings and I a lot of trauma from when we were at a younger age. When he came, it was just one of those things where it was really awkward at first and then it just kind of became a “faking everythings good” type of thing. After this, shit really hit the fan.

I never thought this would be anywhere near a part of my story but,

*Trigger Warning: child exploitation*.

I believe I have mentioned before that I had gone to couples counseling with Mr. This was back in early-midway 2020. We had gotten better, so our counselor saw fit that we stop going. It was scary at first, because we felt like things were just going to collapse again now that no one was going to be there to help support our relationship in a healthy way, but it was actually great. Individually, I was really scared too. I mean, I was used to things blowing up eventually over and over again, so you could imagine the hesitation I had when I had to actually trust Mr. again, and I mean like actually trust. I was practically forced to put my walls down and trust him, and I fought him and our counselor so hard on it, but it was like the whole world was against me because left and right people were telling me to trust him, so I did. I was really worried at first. The first couple of months were normal, but there was several times where I would overthink things, and look for things to go wrong. I’d stay up and stalk his social medias, his friends social medias, like, I was looking everywhere. I guess this is what gave me the slightest hint about what was going on. I had gone through his likes on twitter and saw that he had “hearted” a photo of a girls onlyfans. And it wasn’t just a regular girl, It was someone we knew and went to highschool with. This girl was someone that Mr. and his friends would always tease and bully, and I don’t know why, maybe it’s some misogony, but there is always going to be something sketchy when it comes to a certain group of guys and girls they tease. They say all this stuff about them, but once that girl is exposed in the slightest, they are all there jerking their meat to them. Anyways, I confronted him about it and he said that he had clicked on the profile just to see what it was and once he realized what it was he exited out. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and moved on. Towards the end of the year, I’d say around late October, I started believing that things were okay. I even talked to my friends about it and stated how weird it felt for things to be okay, almost as if it felt wrong, but they assured me that if I had nothing to worry about, then don’t. To just be free, be happy. And then my world was crushed. In early to mid December, I woke up to several messages on my phone from a girl I recognized, but never had any contact with. I had previously known her because she was an ex to a former friend of mine. However, because she messaged me on messanger and deleted the messages before I had the chance to read them, I couldn’t see what was said. I was only able to see that I had gotten messages and that they were deleted. I replied to her and asked what was up, because I was extremely confused as to why this girl was messaging me in the first place. Her reply was, “Do you know “Mr.”?. This legit shook me to the fucking core because it is what I had feared all along. I was so tense for months, and once I had finally relaxed, this shit gets thrown in my face. She started asking if I knew my own boyfriend, and said that I might want to talk to him. I remember I kept asking her what was going on, but she just kept repeating the same thing; to talk to him first. And it was really odd because the night before, Mr. had messaged me a long paragraph explaining how he loved me, and how he’s made mistakes, and how life is so hard on him, and just basically explaining himself to me in such a vague way. But I took it to heart, because he opened up to me on his own after months of me asking him to. I didn’t wait to think of it as an apology for what was coming. That was the last message he had sent me before I got the message from this girl. Lets call her Desert. I was spamming Mr. with calls, texts, I even tracked his location and he had turned it off. Eventually I came to the conclusion that he had gone back to doing what he used to, which was something dealing with nudes or that he had cheated on me, or both. I ran to my friends scared half to death; I couldn’t eat, talk, I was freaking the fuck out. It’s almost as if my body knew, and was preparing itself. Mr. got back to me later at night, but he didn’t want to tell me anything about what was going on until I threatened to leave him. I recall telling him that I’m done waiting, and that I needed answers now or I was going to bombard Desert with them and hear it from someone else and leave. This is when he told me. He told me that months ago, after our couples therapy had ended, an old friend of his, someone we went to highschool with, lets call him Bucket. For some insight, Bucket is some bad fucking news. This guy is the last person you would want any of your family around. And I remember he had started talking to bucket and some other friends from highschool again, but I don’t know why my peanut brain didn’t think exactly who he was getting involved with again. Anyways, he told me that Bucket had reached out to him and asked if Mr. had any lewd photos of girls. Reminder: this was something they had been doing back in highschool. Mr. told him no, and that was that. Bucket kept coming back and asking, over and over again, and after Mr. gave some more thought to it, he remembered that he had his old SIM card from his old phone and that he might have something on there. He checked it, and sure enough there was. Let me pause you right here. When we were in couples counseling and as it was coming to an end, I expressed my worries about the SIM card. I had known that Mr. was doing this stuff back then, so I knew he had photos on this card. I think his phone had cracked or something like that, so thats why he got a new phone. When I asked about the SIM card, he said he had given the phone and SIM card to his sister, and that they were gone. I thought it was super weird because not long before that he said that he was hesitant to give the phone to his sister and idk what, it was weird. Anyways, back to the story. Mr. sent the photos to Bucket, and from there was the start of our downfall. Mr. got invested in it, and he got back into trading nudes and lewd photos of girls. This already sounds bad, but the worst part is that these were old photos. This SIM card went years back, and I mean years back to when he was in highschool doing this. What I am trying to get at is that he had photos of girls from highschool, meaning underage for the most part. Mr. is 22, and he was 22 at the time he got invested into this again. I didn’t even know what to think of it. I felt like throwing up, like my intestines were going to come out of my mouth and like I was going to die. I literally had a feeling of disgust and anger, not only for him lusting over other people, but the ages of the people he was lusting over. I, as well as many others, consider this child p^rn. I now had this idea that I was dating this pedophile for years, and was barely finding out. I felt like fucking dying, all those sacrifices, are for this? That was at worst as it got. Desert reached out to me to tell me about this, because Desert was Buckets ex girlfriend, and now babymomma. She had found out and let me know. However, Mr. found out she was doing this and talked to her, and convinced her that he would let me know and that it was for the better, and she let him. Desert sent me screenshots that she had found through Buckets account between him and Mr., and I can’t even begin to describe how hard my heart fell through my ass. It hurt like i just got shot in the throat. It was through her and these screenshots that I also found out that he had previously planned to hook up with one of our old friends, as well as other people. I’m not even going to go into the degrading words he had said about the fellow girlies I (used) to be friends with. It was a fucking mess when I met up with him. I told him that he was a pedophile, and it went to hell from there. I’m talking massive breakdowns, crying, yelling, you name it. I was telling him people were going to report this, hell, I told him I was going to report this. I’ll save you the hours of repetition, I didnt report shit, well, not at this moment. He also let me know that he had been buying this girls onlyfans, remember the girl I mentioned earlier, the one who I caught him hearting photos of? Yeah, he had been buying her onlyfans, and his friends and him were pitching in for it. What ended up happening was that Desert had told me and let me know that she was going to be notifying the girls that these pigs had photos of, and that it was up to them what they wanted to do. I let her know that it was fine, and that I would support whatever it was they did, meaning, if they were to make a report on them, so be it. He’s a grown man, he dug himself in this hole. What ended up coming of it all; I believe she is still notifying the girls about the photos and the pigs, because it’s still being brought up recently. I’m still with Mr., if that’s what you want to know. It hurt a lot, hearing it all, and I took some time for myself to figure out what I want to do, to figure out how to go about it, hell, to catch a breather. We didn’t spend valentines day together because of this. I was there to support him though, because he was scared that each day was going to be his last, meaning either the cops were going to get to him first or he was himself. I was there for him, I supported him, cared for him, even though I was supposed to be the one to receive that treatment. But I did it because I love him. I know it sounds stupid, especially if you consider everything. But I do love him. I’ve known this man for about 5 years, and even though he is such a fucking stupid person, I could tell this wasn’t the way he wanted things for himself. I could tell that he never wanted to be in that place, but it’s where he ended up. Mr. has been going through a rough time lately, I know how difficult things are for him. I don’t know if I’ve mentioned it before, but he’s at home all the time taking care of his very ill father. I can only imagine the lengths that something like that would take you through. I know many people suffer with many different things, and many use different outlets to release themselves of this pressure and stress. I believe because this was something that Mr. had previously been involved with, and because Bucket reached out at the time, this was the path that led him to the biggest mistake of his life. He found his comfort in these photos, this environment, these people. I know many struggle with porn addiction, drinking, sex addiction, intrusive thoughts, etc. I just think the demons caught him at the “perfect” timing. I believe he had been suffering through intrusive thoughts for a while. And with the stress and pressure from his family duties and his friends, it led to this. I know it hurt, and I never would’ve pictured ourselves in that situation, ever. But, I also knew that that person I was dealing with, was not the Mr. I knew. I knew he was somewhere in there, but I also knew that he was dealing with something greater than just stress. It was a whole mountain of ugly things. And yeah, I could’ve walked away and moved on with my life, but once you get to know somebody inside and out, and get to know and fall in love with them for every ounce of their being, I don’t believe the choice to “walk out” is there anymore. I believe at that point they become a part of you, they become family. It’s not that I didn’t have the strength or the choice to leave, because I did. It’s more that I couldn’t leave him to suffer knowing that’s what he was doing; suffering. I wanted him to get better, I didn’t want to see him behind bar cells, or even worse. I needed him to get better for himself, and for his future. I know many won’t understand, but that’s alright. As long as we understand, that’s all I needed. We stayed together, and overtime we took care of one another. We now stand in a better place, one where forgiving has been a big part of. It’s going well again. We tried going to couples counseling, but our counselor had a waitlist and pushed it all the way until the coming fall, and I mean im not going to be here so there is not going to be any couples counseling to begin with, but thats alright. We did do it for a week before she had to push us back, and in that week when I opened up to her about what had taken place, she believed it to be the extreme measures to involve cps and make a report. She made a vague report, and since I was the one to speak on it, it was as if I had made the report. However, nothing came out of it because it was not ongoing and cps didn’t think it was extreme enough to open up a case about. I think we have come to a place where were good now though. Recently, one of the explosive girls that they had photos of reached out to Ice, my very close friend, and warned her about the people she was involving herself with. She was talking about me, and how I am involved with Mr. I guess she warned her because people are starting to look at me weirdly for being his girlfriend. Ice let me know, and I told my friends that I would never put them in such a bad situation where they have to like who my partner is, and I let them know that if they felt like I was someone they no longer wanted to be associated with, then I would understand if they left. They didn’t leave. I don’t really care for people to start looking at me weirdly, because it simply isn’t like that. We know the truth, Mr., my close friends, and I, and I am okay with that. He started going to counseling again, and I have found myself at peace with the world. I understand how crazy it can all be y’know? I don’t know how I’ve come to be the person I am today, but I’m thankful for it. I know peace, I know life, and I know what love is. I strive to fill my life with these and live as comfortable of a life that I possibly can. My relationship is good, work is still being done, but it is good. I can ask for nothing more but for us to be blessed with another day of being together.

My relationship with my father has plummeted. I had reached out to him early in the year about what was happening in my relationship, and I did find my comfort in my own dad. However, what I failed to realize was that my own father was a man who had misogynist views of his own. I forgot that he was a creep, and someone who Mr. would end up like if he didn’t try to make himself better. Along with this, I realized the absence he made in my family and the way he treated my siblings. My sister and mom have talked to him, and oh man, did my sister and I let him have it. He knows why we aren’t speaking. He constantly apologizes, says he’s been “joking” about the way he sees woman, as if joking about it for the last 20 years is even possible. It’s just gaslighting, and it’s not working. That’s why we don’t talk anymore. He can’t even realize how sick he is, and tries to save his ass from losing his daughters by calling it “joking”, which evidently makes it worse.

I have reached out to a former professor of mine to be my mentor, and he has said yes. This man is someone I highly respect who I took for an Engl course for my basics. He’s an older man, who just recently retired from teaching. I’m just glad I can be able to remain in contact with someone who I see myself in.

I can also finally say that I am finally moving to my dream university this coming fall. It has all been approved, and I have a dorm and all. I’m very excited, but also saddened to be leaving my family and friends. I also have to share that I have a job now! I am currently a hotel receptionist working night hours, which is where I am writing this blog at right now. I love this job, and I love the people and the hours. It’s very peaceful for a college student like myself.

Well, I’ve finally caught you guys up. I hope it brings you a giggle to say that through writing this, I have a slight lag to my typing because of all the shit I had to say. I’ll try to write more often. I hope you guys remain safe. See you soon.

Ended this at 06.04.2021 at 5:28 AM.

-jen

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shante-j-blog · 7 years

Text

Short story

shortstorychallenge

*Deadly assumption*

The long tresses that adorned my pretty little head was laid. My stylist, Keysha had really hooked my do up. I had just gotten a versatile sew-in with 24" Brazilian hair and a 20" lace frontal installed and I was definitely feeling myself. I had gotten the works which consisted of a full set and pedicure, I got my eyebrows arched and filled, and I got my makeup and lashes done too. My girl skills were limitless and even though she did hair out of her apartment, she did a better job than most bitches who owned their own salon. In my opinion, I was looking like one of them cover girl bitches you see on TV. Matter of fact I looked even better.

Tonight was date night for my hubby and I, and I was so ecstatic for my husband to take me out on a night on the town. Between our hectic work schedules, raising our busy body toddler son, Bryce Jr, some alone time with my husband was definitely needed.

"I'll see you next time boo. Thanks again for squeezing me in at the last moment." I told Keysha, heading for the front door.

" Mhm, don't make this a habit bitch," she joked, walking behind me to lock up for the night.

I quickly hopped in my 2017 cocaine white Audi, locking the doors immediately. Keysha stayed in the hood and I didn't want to risk any chances on getting robbed or worse, shot. Pressing the start button on the ignition, I brought my car to life, quickly peeling off and getting the fuck out of dodge. They won't catch me slipping. Fuck that!

Turning the volume up, I rapped along to Loyalty by Kendrick Lamar. For the moment, I was enjoying this little bit of quiet time I had to myself. I love my son with everything in me but sometimes he can be team too much. Those terrible two's were killing me.

In no time, I had made it home. I exited my car, clicked the remote, locking the doors instantly.

As I made my way up the steps, I headed straight to my son's room to check on him. He was sound asleep snoring lightly. I gazed at him for a few moments before I turned on my heels to exit his room. Twisting the knob on the door I pulled it closed and released the knob carefully. I was trying my best not to make any noise. Any sudden sound and his little ass would be up and then it wouldn't be a date with my hubby.

I quietly walked to the master bedroom I shared with my husband. I heard the shower running. Which meant he was in the shower. I laid my purse onto the dresser and was about to walk away when I heard a chime go off. It was the text alert to my husband's phone.

More than likely it was either his twin brother, Dryce, or one of his boys trying to get him to come out and party.

Not tonight boys I thought to myself

I picked up the phone to look through it and to my surprise it was unlocked. Odd I thought.

The site before me sickened me to my fucking stomach.

It was a naked ass bitch laying on a bed with her bare pussy showing. The caption read " She misses you "

I scrolled through his messages and read each and every one of them.

I was shocked and more importantly, hurt.

How could the person who vowed to love me forever do me like this. I didn't have a clue that he was even seeing anyone else. I was totally blindsided.

Not being able to stomach anymore, I placed the phone back onto the dresser, walked over to the closet and removed the safety lock box that housed my .22 handgun

The water turned off and out walked my lying cheating no good ass husband.

"Wassup baby, damn you looking good." He said, taking a few steps towards me with a smile plastered on his face.

"Who is she?" I simply replied, barely above a whisper

"Girl what yo crazy ass talking about, come on get dressed I'm not in the mood for your Lil' petty games, we gone be late. Plus we need to drop Jr. off."

"Nigga, I said who the fuck is the bitch you been fucking?!" I screamed, causing his scary ass to jump

"Man, watch out I don't know what the fuck yo crazy ass talking about" he said, walking around me and towards our walk in closet.

Pow!

I fired a warning shot into the ceiling. His ass jumped so fucking hard he could've shit himself.

"You not going no gotdamn where, while your friendly dick having ass was showering your bitch texted you. I read every fucking thing so you can't deny shit!, the only way you leaving me my nigga is in a body bag."

At this point I had become enraged, there was no explanation needed. He knew what I endured with my ex Bryan and how mentally fucked up I was behind that. He gave me his word that he wouldn't ever take me through that and he lied. This isnt my first merry go round with his lies and bullshit. We've been through this once before. Last time I fell into a deep dark depression and almost lost my life. Yea, I contemplated suicide. But I found out I was pregnant with Jr. and figured maybe we could work it out through counseling

Not wanting to hear any of his lies, I ran to my son's room and locked the door. I slid down the wall and balled crying. I thought about the worst thing that would hurt him the most and that's losing our son. He was banging on the door but I didn't care. "Get away dirty bastard!" I screamed

"Let me explain, it's not what you think." he said

I picked my sleeping son up from his transformers bed and held him. My tears soaked his polo t-shirt. Mommy is sorry I said barely above a whisper. I lifted the gun up to my son's tiny little head. Tears stained my face as I pulled the trigger, sending a single shot through his skull. Blood and brain matter decorated the blue walls. The gold letters BJ were covered in blood.

"Bitch, open up this fucking door!" Bryce commanded

He began kicking on the door until it flew off the hinges.

He gazed at me for a moment then his eyes landed on our son who was still in my arms. He dropped to his knees and began sobbing uncontrollably, mumbling inaudible words.

Taking the back of my hand, I wiped away the tears from my eyes.

"Why, Carmen, why the fuck did you do it?"

He yelled

"You hurt me in the worst fucking way ever, and now you get to feel the same hurt as I did. Why did you cheat with that whore. You said it would never happen again."

He took a few steps towards me and I aimed the gun at him. My palms were sweating and my hands shook uncontrollably. My nerves was bad as fuck and I was in dire need of a drink.

"You bitch you killed our child for nothing. You assumed that message was for me but it wasn't. I was chilling with my brother earlier and grabbed his phone by mistake. On our way to the restaurant I was going to drop it off, see" he explained, holding up two similar cell phones.

Realizing what I had done, I sobbed uncontrollably. I couldn't live with myself knowing I killed my only child over an assumption I aimed the gun to my temple and quickly pulled the trigger.

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fionatlux · 7 years

Text

Episode 1 / Episode 2 / Episode 3

STILL STAR-CROSSED, EPISODE 4

[The one where there is bickering, glorious bickering!]

The Juliet Shrine, Casa Capulet

[The vial of fake-death potion is prominently displayed. How it got there from Rosaline’s bodice, or exactly how much of the fake-death plan is now known, is unclear.]

[A kitty! Kitty, no!]

THE CAT: Kitty yes!

[Noooooo!]

Casa Capulet

[Capulet is, understandably, pretty jumpy.]

A HOUSEMAID: Someone here to see you, my lord!

CAPULET: Who?

A HOUSEMAID: I don’t know, it’s not like the whole point of announcing visitors is to announce their identity or anything.

The Courtyard, Casa Capulet

BENVOLIO [last week]: I promised to marry the woman; for the love of God do not ask me to spend time with her!

BENVOLIO [this week]: May I have permission to take your niece on a date? So we can get to know each other?

Some Pretty Respectable-Looking Street, Verona

ROSALINE: My uncle actually fell for that?

BENVOLIO: I’m persuasive.

ROSALINE: Ready to solve crime so we don’t have to marry?

BENVOLIO: It’s like you know me already!

BENVOLIO: I have a lead on Flaming Arrow Dude! It’s in a brothel. You can wait outside, Capulet.

ROSALINE: Seriously? A brothel?

BENVOLIO: If you want to know a man’s secrets, you have to go where he spills them, if you know what I mean.

ROSALINE [gloriously disdainful]: Seriously???

ROSALINE: Well, I’m going in, are you coming with?

BENVOLIO: Your delicate lady sensibilities will be shocked, but as you wish.

[He said it! He actually said it! Well, they didn’t get to spend much time together in the first couple of episodes, so I guess they’re making up for lost shipping time now.]

The Brothel

[Rosaline is shocked, but not for quite the reason Benvolio anticipated.]

ROSALINE: People actually pay for this?

The Palace

ESCALUS: Buddy! It is so good to see you!

HIS FRIEND: That’s New Venetian Ambassador Buddy to you now, and I have to tell you that the Doge is not super happy you let his brother die in the street.

ISABELLA: Technically, he died in a nice guest bedroom, but we take your point.

ESCALUS: No need to worry! Everything is under control!

EVERYTHING: *is in no way under control*

The Brothel

STELLA THE KINDLY PROSTITUTE: Hey, B. Hey, B.’s fiancée.

BENVOLIO: Well, this is awkward.

ROSALINE: Hi?

STELLA THE KINDLY PROSTITUTE: Yep, I know the girl you want to talk to, she’ll be out in a minute. Seriously, I know that guy, it will only be a minute.

ROSALINE: Do you also sell burn ointment? Because damn.

A Cat Funeral, Casa Capulet

LADY CAPULET: Why would my daughter poison herself?

THE NURSE: That way madness lies! I really think you should let this go.

LADY CAPULET: Nope, it must be Rosaline’s fault! *exits in a swirl of black lace*

ZOMBIE KITTY: *leaps from the grave*

THE NURSE: Holy Saint Francis!

Back at the Brothel

[Flaming Arrow Guy—whose name is Truccio—and some other dude named Grammio, vaguely associated with House Capulet—were paid to graffiti the statue of Juliet back in Episode 1. Stella and her colleague cannot believe how much they got paid to spill the absolute minimum of information.]

Casa Capulet

LADY CAPULET: Livia, have you seen your sister?

LIVIA: She’s out on a date. Can I take a message?

LADY CAPULET: Never mind, I’m going to visit the Secret Sickroom.

The Secret Sickroom

LADY CAPULET: Hello, handsome.

PARIS: Well hello there.

The Mean Streets of Verona

[Benvolio and Rosaline are still bickering. Rosaline does Glorious Disdain beautifully and often.]

ROSALINE: Nice drawing of Grammio. You could be a sketch artist for the police, if we had any.

BENVOLIO: Tavern time!

Maison Montague

[The courtyard is full of luggage!]

MONTAGUE: The hell?

LADY M: Hello, brother! I am back from foreign parts to take charge of our family!

MONTAGUE: I had it under control!

LADY M: And that Benvolio needs some feminine guidance, if you know what I mean.

[Ew.]

Six Taverns Later

ROSALINE & BENVOLIO: *bicker over the artistic merits of his drawing*

[Their bickering is thoroughly enjoyable. Be petty, you two! Be as petty as possible!]

A HELPFUL BARMAID: Oh, you’re looking for Grammio? Yeah, he’s in here every night.

BENVOLIO: See, my drawing is accurate!

THE HELPFUL BARMAID: Also the man has a five-inch scar on his face, it’s kind of hard to mistake him.

ROSALINE: Nooooo, I have curfew!

BENVOLIO: I’ll walk you home!

ROSALINE: Nah, this is Capulet turf. I’m good. You, on the other hand, should be worried.

[She leaves. The other drinkers eye Benvolio. He, seizing the chance for one last petty gesture, steals the rest of her beer.]

The New Ambassador’s Room, The Palace

ISABELLA: Oops. Didn’t mean to interrupt your bro brunch. I’ll just come back later, shall I? *wink*

ESCALUS: You do that.

THE NEW AMBASSADOR: *wink*

THE NEW AMBASSADOR: So the Doge is pretty mad about his brother’s death. Money ain’t gonna do it. I bet he would find your sister…persuasive, though.

ESCALUS: *FACEPUNCH*

[Finally, you did something right!]

Elsewhere in The Palace, Later

ISABELLA: You punched the ambassador? Are you out of your goddamn mind?

ESCALUS: He wanted to whore you out to the Doge!

ISABELLA: …oh. Ew.

An Abandoned House

[Softly, “Once Upon a December” begins to play in the background as Rosaline takes the opportunity to visit her family home. The house is in remarkably good shape and unransacked, despite the fact that she just tore a couple of boards off an open door to get in. Unsurprisingly, Benvolio has tailed her.]

ROSALINE: Who do you think actually pays the price for this feud? Dying is easy, young man; living is harder.

[This scene is actually really sad.]

Friar Laurence’s Confessional

THE NURSE: I saw a cat rise from the dead! There’s some guy in our secret basement! I fear conspiracy!

FRIAR LAURENCE [ominously]: Tell me more!

Isabella’s Room, The Palace

ISABELLA: Lady M! I am so happy to see you! TELL ME WHAT TO DO ABOUT VENICE.

LADY M: Go forth and be manipulative!

ISABELLA: I like the sound of that!

The Secret Sickroom, Casa Capulet

PARIS: I sure feel bad about Juliet. If only I knew something—anything—about the night she died!

LIVIA: My sister was the witness at her wedding and knew all about it!

PARIS: That incriminating piece of information makes me feel so much better!

[Liviaaaaaa.]

The Back Streets of Verona

BENVOLIO: Hey, I recognize that dude from my own drawing! God, I’m good. Hey, you! I want a word!

[Chase scene! Scuffle! Rosaline, walking home, notices. They fight! Suddenly, a masked and hooded figure appears and stabs Grammio! Benvolio and the masked figure duel! B. slashes his opponent in the arm, but the masked person vanishes! Benvolio reaches for the dagger still stuck in Grammio.]

A PASSERBY: *gasp*

BENVOLIO: oh shit. I’ve been framed! Run, Capulet!

ROSALINE: Oh, this is not good.

The Palace

SOME GUY: And so, Benvolio Montague clearly left his crest and his sword at the scene of the crime and is super guilty!

ROSALINE: Nope, I’m a witness! It was the same person who’s been terrorizing the city!

ESCALUS: Your word doesn’t count, you’re his fiancée.

ROSALINE: I thought you needed this betrothal? For the greater good?

ESCALUS: Your word still doesn’t count.

ROSALINE: Fine. I’m leaving.

ESCALUS: You’re not going anywhere. Have a seat, there’s a murderer on the loose.

ROSALINE: No shit. Enjoy my glorious disdain.

The Brothel

BENVOLIO: Look, I know you already turned me down, but things are really bad and I love you! Run away with me?

STELLA: Oh, honey. Ok, I guess?

Back at the Palace

THE PASSERBY: I saw the whole thing! Benvolio had run him right through!

ROSALINE: ok but did you actually see him do it?

ESCALUS: The counsel for the defense will be silent!

ROSALINE: This is what happens when you don’t have a formal criminal justice system and your unilateral monarch goes bonkers out of jealousy even though this whole betrothal situation is of his making.

MONTAGUE: Look, I think my nephew is useless, but even he wouldn’t kill a Capulet at this point! You made it very clear what the consequences would be and he’s not that stupid!

ROSALINE: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I agree with Lord Montague.

MONTAGUE: But, since you obviously don’t care about things like due process, if you execute Benvolio I will honor our agreement and marry Lady Rosaline myself!

ROSALINE: …

ROSALINE: There are no words.

A Corridor, The Palace

LADY M: Despite what I said earlier, Benvolio is obviously a liability. The best cure for a diseased limb is to cut it off! Doesn’t anybody know where our nephew is?

The Brothel

BENVOLIO: Why is this place being raided as we speak? I said I loved you! We were going to run away together! To… well, somewhere. To do… something, I guess?

STELLA THE PERFIDIOUS PROSTITUTE: Babycakes, you’re a customer. You all love me, and I need the reward money.

BENVOLIO: Fair enough. I am clearly devastated that literally nobody loves me, but I cannot argue with your logic.

The Streets of Verona

BENVOLIO: Friar Laurence! I need sanctuary!

FRIAR LAURENCE: You’re out of luck, kid. I’m skipping town and you should too. There are larger forces at work!

BENVOLIO: Conspiracy? Who? What? Where? How? Why?

FRIAR LAURENCE: I have said too much already. Police, ho! Help!

BENVOLIO: Seriously?!

The Palace

ISABELLA: Send me to Venice!

ESCALUS: Fine, but don’t squander your virtue for politics!

ISABELLA: I’m a princess, what do you think my virtue is for if not for politics? Trust me, I have a plan!

Maison Montague

LADY M: I can’t believe our brothel-snatch plan failed!

MONTAGUE: Damn, you’ve gotten scary while you were away. By the way, how’s your husband?

LADY M: In the game of Scotland… you win or you die!

The Secret Sickroom, Casa Capulet

LADY CAPULET: How’s the arm?

PARIS: I think I got blood on the upholstery again, but I’ll live. Benvolio, however, is toast.

LADY CAPULET: EXCELLENT.

The Room Formerly Known as Juliet’s Room, Casa Capulet

ROSALINE: I sure hope nothing else happens today because I am EXHAUSTED.

BENVOLIO: I need you to run away with me to find Friar Laurence and worm the truth out of him! It’s our only chance!

BENVOLIO: Also you’re literally the only person I know who isn’t trying to frame me for murder, and my ego needs to know that somebody is willing to run away with me, even if it is to solve crime and not for romantic purposes.

ROSALINE: …

ROSALINE: Yeah, okay. Let me leave a note for my sister and we are out of here.

LADY CAPULET: *finds the note and hides it*

LADY CAPULET: Oh noes! Rosaline has been kidnapped by that Montague!

LIVIA: OH HELL NO. Nobody kidnaps my sister and gets away with it!

[DUN DUN DUN.]

Next Episode

#still star crossed #ssc recaps

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