'they were medically vulnerable' doesn't mean they were already dead or dying
'they were medically vulnerable' doesn't mean it was inevitable they would get the virus
'they were medically vulnerable' doesn't mean their life didn't matter
'they were medically vulnerable' doesn't mean their death isn't sad
they were medically vulnerable' is not an explanation for how or why they got COVID, because existing disabilities and conditions are not COVID and do not cause COVID
'they were medically vulnerable' doesn't mean that there was nothing that could have been done on others' part to prevent them from getting it
'they were medically vulnerable' doesn't mean they deserved to die or should have died
'they were medically vulnerable' is not there so you can feel relieved you aren't like them while doing nothing to protect people like them
'they were medically vulnerable' didn't make it any less important for people to try to protect them from infection than it is to protect you, your life is not worth more or less than theirs was
'they were medically vulnerable' does not mean they were fucking expendable
(seriously some of you sound downright genocidal about this topic and it makes me want to lie down on the floor and sob)
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possible tw: blood, murder, ritual sacrifice, alcohol, many mentions of drunk people, brief mention of vomit though there isn't actually any in the story
idk man i'm just thinking about how the spot where jack got sacrificed is probably considered a 'party spot' by both high schoolers and college students so every party that matters always takes place there because people love to be cool and edgy and don't care about the fact that it was a spot of ritual sacrifice and that the cult members performing the sacrifice were all brutally murdered by some unknown killer.
and i'm thinking of you being dragged to a raging party there by your friends. you didn't want to go, you had like multiple papers to write and your professor was giving you absolute shit for not meeting the deadline like everyone else but your friends don't care.
"you need to relax! have some fun! live a little!"
that's their reasoning, and it's not like you can just ditch now. you were the designated driver, and you're far too nice to just abandon your friends at a party while they're all getting shitfaced.
anyways, the party is filled with other students from your college. most of them are drunk, and the place is honestly starting to feel like a scene out of a shitty slasher. you're half expecting jason voorhees to walk out of the forest and murder everyone here.
that doesn't happen, thankfully.
no, instead, over the blaring music blasting through the bluetooth speakers, the host/DJ of the party announces that in memory of the many that were sacrificed at the altar everyone was partying around, an offering should be made.
an offering of blood, that is.
which... that's a fucked up thing to suggest, you think. people died. people were killed here. it's fucked up enough that there was a party going on here in the first place, but to make light of something so tragic in such a way just feels disrespectful to the people that died.
and maybe it's because of the alcohol almost everyone here was drinking, or maybe it's some form of peer pressure but everyone, including your friends, seemed to dig the idea.
maybe this is a low-budget cult classic slasher...
you honestly weren't even paying attention to what was being said anymore, instead going over to one of your friends to tell them you were just gonna wait in the car until they were ready to leave.
but when you were stepping away from them to do just that, they were suddenly grabbing your hand and holding it up while excitedly pointing at you.
"they'll do it!"
"excuse me?"
because you're not even sure what the hell your friend just signed you up for, and you didn't even have a chance to do anything before you were being pushed forward and then dragged towards the altar.
you resisted, of course, because you did not want to take part in whatever it was they had planned. you're quite content with your blood staying inside of your body. where it belongs.
it's harder to fight against multiple drunk people than you thought it would be.
"guys, this isn't fucking funny, stop it-"
a blindfold is being forced on you, robbing you of your sight as you're forced down onto the altar. then your hands were bound together, which was only putting you further on edge because it honestly felt like they were actually going to 'sacrifice' you.
your demands for this to stop were ignored as the host of the party went on and on about the tragic murders that took place here and how your blood would appease the angry spirits of the 'poor lambs' that were slaughtered. the guy was starting to sound like a member of a cult, honestly.
which... considering the location, coupled with the sudden demand for sacrifice... well. you're really hoping this was a joke, honestly.
this was starting to go on for far too long to feel like a joke anymore, so your annoyance began to bleed away to genuine fear, "guys, seriously. this isn't funny."
and when you felt the sharpness of an actual blade press up against your neck, you began to realize that this situation was actually dangerous.
"let the sacrifice commence!"
and the blade against your neck pressed down hard enough to draw blood, but before any real damage could be done, the screaming started.
you're... not sure if this was part of the sudden impromptu ritual you found yourself in.
it sounded genuine. one person started screaming, and then another. until everyone at the party was seemingly screaming. the blindfold over your eyes prevented you from seeing what was happening around you, but the blade pressed against your throat was suddenly gone and you could hear it clanging as it was dropped on the altar.
"run!"
"oh my god, what is that?!"
"h-hey man! it was just a joke!"
"don't hurt me! please don't hurt me!"
and then everything went silent. too silent. even the air was still. you were far too afraid to move, even more scared to speak.
but that's when footsteps filled the silence, and you could hear as they approached you.
you couldn't help but flinch when you felt a hand grab your bound wrists. you tensed up, waiting for the worst. instead, you felt the rope binding your hands together come undone.
another hand pulled your blindfold down, and your blood ran cold at the scene surrounding you. there were bodies everywhere. some were still twitching. all of them were gruesomely murdered, their throats ripped out.
you had to force yourself not to vomit, especially when you recognized a few of the bodies to be your friends.
but the carnage around you seemed to pale in comparison to the man that stood in front of you. he was... very much not human. he wore a mask, so the only feature of his face that you could see was his eyes. or... lack thereof.
he didn't say a word, and for a moment, you didn't either. but the silence was too loud.
"are you going to kill me?"
and he tilts his head slightly at the question. the mask he wore hid away his expression, so you weren't sure if your question confused him or amused him.
he doesn't speak, but he does step away from you. that was enough to tell you that no, he did not plan on killing you. you don't say anything else after that, and you don't take your eyes off of him until he leaves you alone on the altar, surrounded by numerous bodies.
the drive back to your dingy little apartment was deathly silent. you were alone, but you didn't feel alone. and when the morning came, news broke about the massacre. every body there had its organs missing, and the police had no leads on who the killer was.
the blade that had your blood on it was gone, so there was no evidence that you were ever even at that party.
and after that night, every night to follow it was... different. even when inside the safety of your own home, you felt as if you weren't alone. something was watching you. you knew who it was, you just chose not to acknowledge it.
the glimpses of blue that you caught outside your window every other night was enough to confirm your suspicions.
you aren't sure why he was watching you. maybe it was to make sure you didn't go to the police, though you sincerely doubt they'd believe a word you said if you tried. or maybe it was something else.
you don't know. but you caught his attention.
you can only hope that nothing bad comes from that.
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inadvertently blocking my blessings bc i am resistant to being “seen” or “known”
but it could very well be true (for me at least) that in order to realize my “purpose” to really step into it, i have to also show up as i am. unafraid, unashamed, unapologetic. i can’t hide or be afraid of perceptions or judgements. i can’t let others treatment of me define my value anymore. for better or worse, i get to decide how i’m treated and what it means.
the way i look has always lead to negative experiences for me. so it’s caused me to shrink and hide and make myself smaller. it’s reinforced my people pleasing and perpetuated this disconnect from myself. but my appearance is my power, it isn’t a weakness or something that can be used against me anymore. it’s my power. it’s essential to how i navigate this world.
i can’t control how people decide to treat me but i don’t need to internalize it anymore. i don’t need to believe them. and i don’t even need to listen.
i’m much more than this, we all are. but i’ll never be separate from my appearance, from my ancestry, and i don’t want to. i don’t think i ever really wanted to live separately. i want to integrate it into who i am. i don’t want to tip toe anymore or placate people. it’s time to show up and show out.
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