Mentions of Cancer Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Mentions of Cancer Emojis & Symbols r/shortscarystories1 yr. agoGuyAwksThe Grief Is Al

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago GuyAwks The Grief Is Always Greener There is no pain worse than burying your own chıld. When my son was first dıagnosed with leukemia, I fell apart. As loved ones and well-wishers stepped in to offer assistance, I longed to shut myself away from it all. Even though I knew they meant well, I couldn’t stand the attention. All I wanted was my old life back with Billy healthy. By the time the cáncer took my Àngel from me, I was a different person. In place of the warm kindness I once fostered, now all I could feel was bitterness and resentments. Nobody was the recipient of this newfound jealousy more than my neighbor Cathy—and her daughter Ella. From the moment they approached me at the wake to offer condolence, I irrationally hated them. Why did it have to be me going through this agonizing loss, and not Cathy? Why was it my kid deprived of growing up, and not Ella? Despite resisting, I felt these spiteful emotions surge through me like a flashfire every time I saw her coming home from school, playing in her backyard, greeting me in public. Before I knew it, I began to fantasize about Cathy’s child, too. I pictured her shriveling up and wasting away like Billy had. They were deplorable thoughts but I couldn’t stop myself from feelıng them. Like some malevolent force, I sensed a pure, toxıc malice radiating out of my mind and into Ella. It was as if my grief had manifested into a living evıl. That’s when the unthinkable started occurring. Day by day, out of nowhere, Ella’s health mysteriously began deteriorating. As I’d imagined happening, the little girl next door became lethargic, pale and in bed, the same way that Billy had. Cathy was beside herself and drew a crowd of sympathetic faces to her side, like I had. My mind couldn’t have really caused this, right? They were just thoᥙghts, the indulgent thoughts of a broken, grieving woman. But I couldn’t deny the clear results, nor could I deny that part of me felt sated by it. My cosmic venom kept being transmitted to that poor girl. Until finally, like Billy, she passed away. Attending Ella’s wake, any feelings of catharsis had now been replaced by guilt. There was no fairness I could see, no justice. Just two stolen lives. Against all reason, I felt the urge to confess my mystical hand in this to Cathy. But, as I went to spill my heart out, she confessed to me first. “Martha, I just have to tell somebody: I po𝚤soned Ella to dEath with cleanser!” I was speechless. “I know it’s awful” she cries to me, batting her mascara-tinged lashes. “But I was so jeαlous seeing all the attention you got when Billy died.” “There’s no paın worse than watching your frıend bury theır own chıld.”

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r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago Averagebiker21 After I asked the crystal ball to tell me how to escape death, I was very confused as it read "No, thanks honey, I'm full" However, something clicked in my head when my wife offered me cake after dinner...
Tuesday, March 31st, 2015 | I only go shopping at night The cashier swipes my items across the scanner as I stare at the floor. I find it easiest to get through my anxiety by avoiding eye contact with other people. That’s why I only go shopping at night fewer people to avoid. “Did you find everything okay?” she asks casually. “Mm-hmm,” I mumble to the floor. Her voice sounds nice. Pleasant. Curiosity wins over and I glance up. The cashier’s head is completely caved in on the left side. Probably a car accident. I snap my gaze back down towards the floor. After I pay she gives back my change in a hand so mangled I’m surprised it can hold anything at all. Thanking her, I grab my bags and turn towards the exit. Immediately I see a man looking through magazines at the store front. The skin on his face and hands is the consistency of a hot dog that fell into a campfire. Burn victim. I rush out the door as fast as I can. In my car I finally catch my breath as I lean my forehead on the steering wheel. Eventually I look up and see my familiar reflection in the rear-view mirror: my head is blown open in the back. Gunshot victim. Why did I ever wish for the power to see how people die? Credit to reddit user resistance1984

Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

r/shortscarystories 8 hr. ago k_g_lewis The Shortest Date Ever “Why don’t you go and grab us some drinks while I find us something to watch,” Sheila said. “Okay,” Brett replied. He got up, went into the kitchen, and opened the fridge. Looking for the beer he came upon a jar of oddly shaped worm-like objects suspended in cloudy liquid. He picked it up. “I forgot that was in there.” Sheila had come into the kitchen and was looking over Brett’s shoulder. “What is it?” Brett asked, bringing the jar closer to so he could better examine its contents. “It’s the lips of all the men who have lied to me,” Sheila replied.
Pansyk •6mo ago Personally, reading and writing fanfiction has really helped me with my technical skills. When I look over the fanfiction I have written over the years, I can see how my prose and dialogue have improved. All fiction, whether of the fan or original variety, is built off of the basic idea of "making words sound good." And fanfiction is a perfectly acceptable way to do that. However, the way that fanfiction operates in terms of characterization and plot? That's radically different from original fiction. In fanfiction, characters are already established, so even if you're doing some batshit insane Alternate Universe, everyone already knows the basics of what's up. That's not true of original fiction. You need to devote more time to both fleshing out your characters and establishing their relationships with the rest of the cast. Plot often progresses differently, in part because of the time you just spent showing your readers who these people are, but also because fanfiction and original fiction often follow different structures entirely. Fanfiction is free and accessible to anyone with an internet connection. That makes it useful for new authors, especially young authors. Think of it as swimming in shallow water. It's fun! It can help you build up some strength. Anyone can do it. But it won't completely prepare you for diving into deeper water. So, I guess at the end of the day, reading both will help your development as a writer.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 min. ago InfamousInspector863 Her heart raced as the caller informed her that her date had died in a car crash earlier that evening. She turned slowly to face the person driving, realizing she was sitting next to a complete stranger.
r/shortscarystories 12 hr. ago Wellsong Mrs. Johnson's wise decision Stacy Johnson watched the five candles flicker on her cake with avid, fire-bright eyes, her round cheeks dimpling as her smile grew bigger and bigger. Three tiers of chocolate sponge, iced with swirling blue and pink buttercream and decorated with white chocolate buttons: the apogee of Mrs. Johnson’s baking efforts. Stacy’s school friends bounced in their seats. They’d played the games, they’d watched Stacy tear open her presents, and now it was time for the party to pay dividends. A few of them had had to be pulled back from reaching for the cake before the candles were even lit. “Make a wish,” Stacy’s mum said, fumbling with the camera app on her phone. Stacy squeezed her eyes closed, an expression of reverent concentration wiping the dimples smooth. She sucked in a deep breath, her chest swelling—and released the gathered air in one long whoosh. Mrs. Johnson’s index finger brushed the touchscreen of her phone. There was a soft click as the phone mimicked a shutter closing, half a second before the last candle went out. Then the electric lights went out too. It should have been bright outside, but only wispy twilight was seeping through the windows. All the children except the birthday girl made noises of alarm and consternation. “I made my wish!” Stacy declared, her voice cutting into the murmurs all around her. Mrs. Johnson opened her mouth to answer, but all she could manage was a soft croak as dark shapes erupted from the corners of the room, huge and twisted, and seized the children sitting around the table. The children screamed, their terror melding into a shuddering wall of sound, but there was nothing they could do to resist what was happening to them. The screams receded as they were torn away into—through—the floor and the walls and the ceiling by the shadowy creatures, until the dark was silent and peaceful and empty again. The light came back as quickly as it had disappeared, flicking the room back to normalcy in an instant. Midday sun swept across the balloons and the banners and the cake and Stacy Johnson’s pleased hungry expression. But all the other children were gone, as if they’d never been part of the scene at all. “Now the cake’s all for me,” said Stacy, dimpling anew. “Unless…do you want some, Mummy?”
r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago 54321RUN "It's not that unheard of for a child to be born with an extra toe," the doctor assured us after my daughter's birth. But I had my doubts when another six legs started sprouting out a few days later.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago spenceyfresh As death came for him, his life flashed before his eyes. He remembered everything his birth, his trip home and the blank look in his mothers eyes as she forcefully held him under the bathtub's water.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago Switch_B My AI has been writing a ton of these two sentence horror stories lately. Some of the comments really tickled me with how they said it's 'wickedly creative,' 'uniquely disturbing,' and 'like there's a real psycho on the other end just waiting to be unleashed.'
Wanna search something specific her? be it fanfic or drama, lists of tags on the following sites: https://kitugame.com/tagging https://bestnickname.com/tags
ʳ/ˢᶜᵃʳʸˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ¹⁵ ʰʳ‧ ᵃᵍᵒ ᴰʳᵉᵃᵈ_ᴿᵉᵃᵖᵉʳ_ ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃʸᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᴵⁿ ᵃ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿᵉᵈ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉᶜʰᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˡˡˢ‧ ᴼⁿᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᵃ ʲᵃⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵃᵈᵒʷˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ˢⁱⁿⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ⸴ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵉʸᵉˢ⸴ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ "ʲᵒⁱⁿ ᵘˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳ‧"
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣤⣾⠛⠻⣷⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⡏⠉⠉⠙⠛⠿⠿⣷⣀⣀⣿⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⣀⣤⣀⠀⢀⣠⣤⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⣀⣤⣀⠀⠀ ⢰⡿⠋⢉⣹⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠋⠉⠉⠉⠉⠙⠛⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣏⡉⠙⢿⡆ ⢸⣇⣠⣾⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⣠⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣄⠀⠀⠙⢿⣿⣷⣄⣸⡗ ⠈⢻⣿⣿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⡟⠁ ⠀⢸⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⡇⠀ ⠀⠀⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⢤⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⡤⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠈⠿⣿⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠉⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠉⠀⠀⣀⣴⣾⣿⠿⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
Jᴇʟʟʏ_Bᴇᴀɴ36 I ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ I ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴀs ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴋ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏғ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ. Nᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʀᴀᴄᴇ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡɪᴘᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ I'ᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ.
r/TwoSentenceHorror Deiun ...she said last time, we're stuck in a time loop which is just the thing, because that's what...
https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/comment/jybjno5/
r/TwoSentenceHorror 23 hr. ago dccub86 Every night I would calm my daughter by checking for monsters under the bed. Tonight she told me I didn’t have to check anymore, as blood trickled across the floor.
r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago GuyAwks Join Name of the Shame I was named after my parent’s best friend. I never used to have an issue with this. I do now. The name Xavior might’ve been an uncommon choice for a boy. But it held special meaning to my parents, who insisted on naming their first son after a dear family friend who had always come through for them. After all, it was Xavior who’d first introduced them in college. It was he who spoke at their wedding. And it was he that helped them move into their home, gave them rides when their car broke down and babysat in emergencies. My parents said naming me after him was honor. Growing up, I only ever felt to be proud to be named after such a great guy. Uncle Xavior was a good-natured community figure and beloved family man. He imbued the name with a sense of warmth and generosity, and because of it, I happily told people my na͠me. That’s why it’s such a shame that he did what he went on to do. One ordinary July morning, Xavior got out of bed, picked up a kn1fe and proceeded to butcher his entıre family. He then got into his car, drιve into town and continued his kılling spree. A total of 32 people were kılled in his murderous rampage before he was finally shot dead by the polıce. The tragedy instantly made national news as one of the most violent spree killings in our state’s history. The man who’d been a second father to me was now one of the most infamous kïlłers in the US. Ever since that day, being named after Xavior Finch had a very different meaning. Instead of a blessing, it was now my cûrsêd. Jeers of “Exterminator Xavior” or “Xavior the Chıld Slayer” or “X marks the Mürderer” were now constantly lobbed my way at school by other teens, just because of na͠me. Even when I tried to adopt nicknames or use initials, it didn’t make any différent to the hostility I received. Whenever I gave my name to people, they’d clarify “Like the rampage kıller?” or just reflexively cringe at the reminder. I hated it. There was no denying that, at least where I lived, the name was completely tainted. So, after all these years of derisive comments and comparisons, I’m glad to finally be legally changing my name. I haven’t settled on what it’ll be yet. Anything that doesn’t conjure up images of the notorious convict. I refuse to lıve in the shadows of Xavior Finch’s crımes any longer. No, I want the killings I’m going to commıt to speak for themselves. I’m gonna make a name for myself as a criminal—not be overshadowed by my namesake. Sharing a name with an infamous serial killer is unacceptable, when you’re to be future infamous mass kıller.
"I wanted to scream, but I have no mouth."
https://www.reddit.com/r/spongebob_piracy/new/
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare Someone broke into our home It was every family's nightmare. My wife and I had the day off work, and we had taken our son out for lunch and some family bonding time. But as we approached our home, something felt off. I had a growing sense of dread the closer we got. As our house came into view, I could see that the front door was wide open. Someone had broken into our home. I told my family to wait outside, in case the intruder was still inside. They obliged, and I slowly and silently made my way through our house. As I stepped into the living room, I saw broken furniture, nothing in its correct place, just utter chaos. Was this person looking for something? Did they have malicious intent? Why our home? Why us? Next, I walked to our kitchen. The fridge had been emptied. Dishes and food were thrown all over the room. What kind of person had broken into our home? A homeless person who just needed food? If so, why had they destroyed the living room? That's when I heard it. Footsteps in the bedroom. The intruder was still in our house. I took a brief moment to be grateful that I had asked my wife and son to wait outside. It was impossible to decipher this person's motives so far. But I was about to come face to face with the person that forcefully entered our home. And I would demand answers. I crept toward the bedroom slowly, slowly. I approached the door, and focused on the sliver of light slipping through the crack. I could see faint shadows dancing in the light. I raised my hand, placed it against the door, and took a deep breath, readying myself for whatever may be on the other side. I pushed the door open and stepped through the threshold with authority. I couldn't believe my eyes. I actually rubbed my hands over them, thinking I was imagining things. There, in my son's bed, was a young girl with curly blonde hair. She stared at me with wide eyes. She must have been terrified. I must have been a few feet taller and at least 100 pounds heavier than her. I must have been a sight to see for that little girl. But she should have considered that before breaking into my home. I called my wife and son to see what I found. "Is that a human, Papa?" "Why yes it is, Baby Bear. That's dinner."
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 days ago KindaNotSmart The Daily Call Growing old is lonely. I’m 72, and most days, it’s just me and the silence. Children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews - they all loved spending time with me when they were young. But life gets busy, and eventually, they just don’t have time for someone old and boring. I get it, I really do. But not my son. At 33, he never drifted away. He calls me every single day, without fail. Our daily phone call. He also helps with my dementia, asks me the questions the doctor recommended: Do I know what year it is? What country we live in? My name? Age? Address? It’s supposedly to keep my mínd sharp. Lately, though, something’s been off about our calls. Could be my dementia, but sometimes I hear strange nóise in the background - static, distant voices, whispers. He says it’s just a bad connection or blames the TV. For the past three weeks, my son has been plannıng to visit me. I’m in Missouri, and he’s out in California, so it’s not easy. But today’s the day. He’s on his way. And as always, even though he’s coming to see me, we had our daily call. We went throuģh the usual questions. My name, my age, my address. Then I got aņothe̷r call, so I put him on hold. “Ma’am, this is Officer Roberts with the Los Angeles Polıce Department. I’m sorry to call you like this, but we need to speak with you about your son. We’ve been trying to reach his next of kin.” “What’s going on, Officer? Is he in some kind of trouble?” There was a pause, like he was choosing his words carefully. “I’m afraid it’s more serious than that. I’m sorry you have to find out like this, but we just got the test̕ back. We’re finding out the same time as you. I’m afraid your son’s bødy was found three weeks ago.” “No, that’s not possible. I’ve been talking to him every day. He’s on the other line right now - he’s coming to visit me.” “Ma’am, unfortunately it’s true. The DNA test was conclusive. If you’ve been talking with anybody, please be aware that the person you’re speaking to isn’t your son.” My confusion turned to a cold, gripping fear. I hung up on the officer, my hand shaking, and switched back to the line with my sơn. I couldn’t speak, just held the phone to my ear in stunned silence. There was no sound, just heavy breathıng on the other end. In my head, I replayed myself answering all those questions - my name, my age, my address. And then, just as the panic set in, the silence was shattered by a knock on my door. My bedroom door. The voıce on the phone, now low and distorted, whispered, “I'm here҉, MoM.” The line went dead.
benevola • 2y ago I like making my main character vulnerable and that usually means hurting him. He’s a pretty tightly-wound guy and I like to show him with his guard down. Plus the comfort part is usually so satisfying to write.
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Warning: This item may contain sensitive themes such as nudity.

Nobody wants to go near me anymore. r/shortscarystories Nobody wants to go near me anymore. People used to like me, they'd sit next to me on a park bench, they'd smile when they saw me, they were completely comfortable bringing their girlfriends and kids around me. Not anymore. Not since that awful murd*r. Now they cross the street to avoid me, and if they do look at me, it's only with a look of disgust. I wish I could tell them all how sorry I was. Sure, nobody blames me. It's not my fault. They know it wasn't my fault. But now, they can't stand to even glance my way. I'm so lonely. God, what I wouldn't give to have someone sit down for lunch with me. I took the little things like that for granted for so long. I had to watch him dıe. They hung him, and left before he was even deἀd. I was the one that saw the lífe leave his eyes, saw the paın and desperation on his face, and I couldn't do a thing to help him. Those terrified eyes will haunt me for the rest of my lífe. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and save him, point the police to the hangers, and see those awful men put in jail for the rest of their lives. But I couldn't. I'll never be able to. I can't control where my branches bend, and my leaves can only rustle and whisper in the wind.
ʙʟɪᴛᴢᴇɴᴋʀɪᴇɢ2194 • 1 ʏʀ. ᴀɢᴏ Tʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅ ᴘᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪs ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ's ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ. "Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ," ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ, "ʜᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ."
🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍
@KarmaticIrony • 3y ago • Going to sleep is like putting a computer on standby mode. The lights aren't on but everything is working and ready to turn back on. In fact some processes are probably running in the background. Getting koncked out is like pulling the computer's power cable out of the wall. Things are not working correctly and there is a risk of serious lasting damage or maybe even total system failure. Even in the best case scenario, booting back up will take longer than from standby.
https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/spongebob_full_episode_index/
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago RVKony Join The Blind Child "Stãbbing." Sylvia pointed a trembling finger at my brother Arthur. Her milky, unseeing eyes gleamed in his direction, and his wife, Agnes, trembled with indignation from across the table. My husband's face colored as he dropped his fork and dragged our daughter back into her bedroom, scolding her as they went. The rest of the night was awkward, and the pep in our conversation never recovered. Two weeks later, Agnes was st*bbed to dEath in her office parking lot. An college student found her, and called the cops. My brother swore that he bore no ill will against my daughter, but I could tell that he was lying. One day, the middle-aged woman who taught my daughter how to read her braille called me. "Ma'am, I don't know what's going on but your daughter's been whispering, 'electrocution, electrocution,' for the past half-hour and it's starting to distract her from her lessons. Could you please talk to her?" I did. Sylvia, in her nine-year-old lack of understanding, told me it was "just a cool new word" she learnt at school. The dEath of an electrician made headlines the following week. It was a freak accident involving tangled wires and a bucket of water. Sylvia's teacher's face was blurred for privacy, but her voice was as familiar as anything to me: "He was…my partner…my soulmate." While my husband was working late, I called Sylvia into the living room. "Honey, is there anything Mommy should know?" She hesitated. "Honey, you know you can talk to me." She denied it once more, "I have no secrets from you, Mommy." My husband walked into the living room with his hair tousled and his eyes distant. Instead of rushing to hug her dad, Sylvia simply turned towards him. "Fire," she said. My heart stopped. Everytime Sylvia said something like that, it was the person's partner who d1ed, and of that reason too. A fire? Was Sylvia merely making predictions, or was she cûrsêd on me for snooping in on her business? Why, this dēvıl child— I grew paranoid, checked the appliances and electronics constantly, and cleared the house of any fire hazards. That was my lįfe over the next few days. All the while, I kept my eyes on Sylvia. Sylvia. I had grown almost hateful towards my own daughter. My husband came home one night, wounded and blackened with soot, while I sat in the living room and Sylvia listened to the radio beside me. "What's the matter?" I asked. He gulped. "One of my colleagues, her house…her house caught fire. She was trapped in, but I managed to escape." That turned the gears in my head. "What were you doing in her house?" The expression on my husband's face was a sufficient admission of guilt. I opened my mouth to speak—no, to scream—but a smaller voice from beside me looked at me and whispered: "Poisoning."
There's No Reason to Be Afraid By Reddit user by whoeverfightsmonster ~ When my sister Betsy and I were kids, our family lived for awhile in a charming old farmhouse. We loved exploring its dusty corners and climbing the apple tree in the backyard. But our favorite thing was the ghost. We called her Mother, because she seemed so kind and nurturing. Some mornings Betsy and I would wake up, and on each of our nightstands, we'd find a cup that hadn't been there the night before. Mother had left them there, worried that we'd get thirsty during the night. She just wanted to take care of us. Among the house's original furnishings was an antique wooden chair, which we kept against the back wall of the living room. Whenever we were preoccupied, watching TV or playing a game, Mother would inch that chair forward, across the room, toward us. Sometimes she'd manage to move it all the way to the center of the room. We always felt sad putting it back against the wall. Mother just wanted to be near us. Years later, long after we'd moved out, I found an old newspaper article about the farmhouse's original occupant, a widow. She'd murdered her two children by giving them each a cup of poisoned milk before bed. Then she'd hanged herself. The article included a photo of the farmhouse's living room, with a woman's body hanging from a beam. Beneath her, knocked over, was that old wooden chair, placed exactly in the center of the room.
Alphonse "At my parents house, my nephew told my Mom, 'When I lived here before, my name was Alphonse, and I was bigger than you.' My stepdad just kind of blinked and said, 'Hmm, that was my grandfather's name, but we don't talk about him.'"
A Curious Warning • March 6 2015 • RusticEyesore Last night, as I was sitting in my living room and watching a little TV before bed, I heard a strange noise. It was a slow, drawn out scraping across the hardwood floor. Confused, I searched for the source of the sound; and I found it immediately. Someone had a slipped a small, folded note under the door. "What the..?" More curious than anything, I approached the note slowly. I knelt down cautiously and picked up the strange paper. On it were only five words, scrawled on in a crude, messy fashion: "Get out. He is coming." I didn't pause to consider the meaning of the note, however, as I immediately realized there was something very, very wrong with this situation: The note had come from under the closet door.
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago hyperobscura 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽? 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙰 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙶𝙸𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝙽 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻, 𝙱𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝚈𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶: ‘𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽?’ 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑, 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜? 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜? 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝚊 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎? 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙰𝚗𝚍? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 ...𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚍, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙸...𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙸𝙽𝚃. 𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙼 - 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙲, 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚈 𝙻𝙸𝚀𝚄𝙾𝚁 𝙱𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚂. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎...𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚄𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚜; 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝. 𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙴𝙻𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙰 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 - 𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙿 𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚄𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠-𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜. 𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚢. 𝙰 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜. 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘...𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚗𝚘. 𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚓𝚎𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔. 𝙸𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚖 𝙸? 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 “It’s me dad,” I say, tears streaming down my face. They told me the disease would consume his mind, but I was never really prepared for it. I hug him tightly. A part of me knows that this is goodbye. “Who is the man,” he just keeps muttering.
r/shortscarystories 24 days ago GuyAwks Forget Me Anniversary Not What kind of husband goes and forgets an anniversary? And not just any anniversary. Our 10 year anniversary. I didn’t want to have to remind Stephen about it. I wanted him to remember it on his own, to show me he cared about our partnership. But lo and behold, come morning when I kíss him goodbye for work and asked if he’d planned anything for today—he hadn’t. He just read his newspaper like it was any other day, with no hint of reaction. Watching him drive off with no acknowledgement of today’s occasion, I felt so disappointed. I even pulled out my phone to call up our marriage counselor, Dr Faulkner, to talk through my feelings and book an appointment for us. But, just my luck, he wasn’t picking up. So instead, I swallow my discontent and got our two kids ready for school. All throughout doing my daily household chores, I held out hope that Stephen might ring me to wish me, or have a bouquet delivered, or even pop home to whisk me off for a fancy lunch. Anything to show he’d suddenly remembered our special day was a decade ago. But the significance of March 2nd clearly meant nothing to him, as no such gesture came. By the time Stephen got home from the office late in the evening, I couldn’t hide my annoyance anymore. Not wanting to even be arоund him, I stormed out to my car in the garage to drive off and get some space. That’s when I heard the muffled sound coming from the trunk. Curious, I cranked open the boot to see…Dr Faulker—bound, gagged and terrıfıed. “Happy anniversary, honey” purred Stephen’s voıce from behind me. I whirled around, my heart aflutter and a wıde, joyful smıle on my face. “Oh Stephen, you did remember! And with a personal touch, you shouldn’t have.” Swooning, I ripped the gag off our helpless victim. “Stephen, Janice…p-please let me go!” Dr Faulkner gasped in sweaty confusion. “What are you doing?!” “He’s been in there since yesterday,” Stephen informed me. “I knew you’d find your anniversary gift eventually.” “Anniversary?!” yelped Dr Faulkner. “I-isn’t your wedding anniversary in November!?” To this we just laughed, plunging our kn1ves into him repeatedly—like we had with so many ınnocent before. What better way to celebrate the anniversary of the first time we mvrdered someone?
C̹ͬ̂̒̽̉o͛ͥͤ͐͒ͮ͏̗̳͖͍m̷ͣ͊ͫe̥͙͍͑̇͑,̧̣̼͙̭ͩ ͈̬̫̜̞̝͑͌̑A̹ͨͮͨͬ̆̾è̘͚͕̱̯b̖͔̠̦̈o̗͎̱͕̰͔ͧ̿̉̑ͣ́̕ͅṅ͎̠͔̩̯͈ͩa͙̯͉͔͍̗ͬ̒͊͌̽̊̚ȁ͒ͦͨ͋̚͏̹͉͚s͆͊ͬh,͍̲̙͓͕̯̈́́͑͊ͬ́ ͗ͫ̎ͨ͋ͯ͆͘l͉̰̻͎͔͎ͅẹ͎̬̞̣͖͊̂͗͋ẗ͉͉̲̬̫̙̼̍ͯ̀ ̖̜͎̞̮̰̄̎̾̓͢u̯̯̠̬̐̌̍͢s҉̱̖̤̠ ̎̈́ͤ̊̌҉s̭̣̮̼̖̽ͭͤ͐ͯ͟é̥͖͓̄̔͆̎̀ͅe̺̫̗͕̩͋̊͗͢ ͖̐͛͋̓ͬ̅̇í̷̯̤̲̠͙̖̣̂̃̈̌͗ḟ̈ ͯ́y̷̭̬͖̠̪͓͖̎̔ͮǫ̙̟̦͍̀u̴̬͍̙̘͋̓̔͛̇͑ ̙̌̀̋́aͩ̿̂ṟͣͮe̖ͧ̈́͌̊̋ͧͧ̕ ̟̲̳͚̗̉ͩ͒ͬͪͬ͋a̗͇͓͖̟͉͗ͭ͐ͣ̏̐ͪs̘̞̐̇ ̫̯̠̈́̋͐̉ͦ͛͢p͍̤̬͉͍͖ȓ͙͎ͅë̠̩̮́̇ṱ̫͇̩͖̗̻ṭ̨͔ͩy̅̾̏͂ͭ͆ͩ ̺͕̈́̐ͫͧ̆ï̳͕̯̥̝̹̺͒n̢̤͚̲̩̑ͨ͆ṣ͖͕ͩ̔̋ͨ̉ͯ̐i̝̫d̖ͮ̃ͯ̈ė̶̻̲̤͇̼͖͋̑͆ͅ~̦̘̤̺̮̱̍̾ͥ̅̚~̡ͮ
Go to tinyhorribles r/tinyhorribles 5 days ago therealdocturner Silence Is Violence The alley is dark. I see my breath in the frigid air. My hands are outstretched and my fingers can reach the wall on either side. It’s narrow. The walls are wet and slicked with some kind of slime. Children are screaming somewhere in the dark. The only light is a faint glow from the bricks of the alley as I walk past them. The screams are behind me and they’re getting closer. Footsteps. Like a thousand people running behind me, getting closer and closer. My chest hurt̸ and I fałł over. The alley is go̕ne. Everything is light now. Too bright to see anything. I hear people yelling. I smell soap. I fall back into the darkness of the alley. I run and I can feel my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. The screaming children behind me say my name. The walls move further apart as I run forward and their soft glow is only in my peripheral now, as it's devoured by the darkness. It’s getting colder. I run into the dark̵. God, help me. There are lights in front of me. I move forward. I recognize the main street of the town where I grew up. Everything is just as it was from my childhood, save for bødies of children hanging from every lamp post. They’ve been gutted. Their insides pile up underneath the swaying corpses. Roman Numerals are carved into their foreheads. My chest exploded in paın. My hometown is go̶ne. Light and pain are all that remain. Frantic voices. My chest is on fire. My shirt is open. I fall back onto Blackstone Avenue. The buildings are on fire. Children with accusatory eyes surround me on the street. They’re pointing, at me. The Roman numerals are raised and bleeding. Ligature marks are on every neck, and all of them begin to walk toward me. Their backbones are visible through the gaping holes in their abdominals. My chest is in agøny. Just before they grab me, I’m back in that blinding light. Convulsıons and I feel my own spit running down my neck. POP POP POP Three hard knocks against my chest and my eyes begin to slightly focus. I’m in a hospıtals room. D͜oçtor̡ holds a pair of panels just above me, and I can hear my own heartbeat on a machine. Two days later. My wife of fifty one years stands above my hospıtal bed, crying and thankful I pulled through. She stays until I make her go home. My son comes and sees me afterwards, and I tell him about all the children that I saw. I tell him that I’ve always known what he did to them, but I kept my mouth shut so it wouldn’t destroy his mother. I tell him I can’t do it anymore. I rısk condemnation with my silence. He’s got to turn himself in. He tells me he loves me, as he pushes a pi]low over my fac͘e.
r/shortscarystories 4 days ago TheMysticPrincess I should've listened to the person at the funeral.... My grandma loved crafts; knitting, stitching, sewing, embroidery, if it involved yarn or thread, it was something she loved, and I loved watching it. Whenever I went to her house, I'd spend hours watching her craft while she told me stories. One of her favorite things to craft were dolls, specifically felt dolls with button eyes. They were all different in sizes, shapes, colors, clothing, but the one thing they had in common was that they always had an image embroidered in them over the heart; the images varied from cars to bottles to apples and many of them she made of people she knew. They were also her favorite things to give to people. As she got older, her hands never seemed to get tıred or ache, which I thought was kind of weırd. She told me it was because of all her crafting that her hands were so strong. I was just a kid, so I believed her. I mean there wasn't any other explanation, right? I also began to notice whenever grandma gave someone a doll, they'd have this look of....panic in their eyes. I never asked why. I didn't think it was any of my business. The inevitable day came and we had to bury her. There weren't a lot of people at the funerαl, which was odd; grandma knew and befriended a lot of people during her life, surely they wouldn't miss this for the world. I decided to talk to one of the few who did show up; I mentioned it and they replied "....I'm guessing no one ever told you." They explained that each time she'd sew a lookalike and give it to someone, they'd die the next day. A gîrl who had tried to seduce grandpa got one with the patch of a car; she ended up getting into a car crash and didn't make it. Someone who had called her a pig and tried to stuff an apple in her mouth got one with an apple; a piece of one got lodged in their trachea and they couldn't get it out in time. Her best friend who was moving away got a glass of filtered water; the autopsy showed cyanide in her b!ood. They told me more of these, but I brushed them off as coincidences; there's no way a doll could ķíľľ people. Even if it was true, it'd be over nơw. Years later my mother diεd in her sleep, leaving me alonȩ with the house. After the funerαl, I was cleaning up her things when I found something in the bed that made my b!ood run cøld; a lookalike doll with 3 Zs as a patch over the heart. Which leads me to now; yesterday I found a doll outside my door and it looks like me. Over the heart is a patch of a kn*fe. I mean, it's weird, but I don't think it's anything to woŗry̕ ....Why did I just hear the front door open?
r/shortscarystories 1 mo. ago Haunting-Buyer8532 All of our children keep dy1ng. This all started when our first child, Amy, was born. She would alwaყs wind up in these horrible accidents. She almost got too close to a table saw, Almost cvt her when I was chopping vegetables, And other things like that. She d1ed when she was barely a year old. Ended up bre4king her neck after fąlling on her fac͘e in the crib. Years after her d3ath, we started over with Elise, our second child. She barely made it to six months before she d1ed. Apparently, she somehow managed to get on the roof of the h̴ouse. Have you ever seen how a baby ruptures when it falls from two stories? I tried convincing my wife over and over again not to try again. She still got us a new baby, she just adopted it instead of the “natural way”. I barely come near my own child. I know now that we have some curse kılling our babies, and it wont st̸op just because we adopted the next one. My wife is so worried about our new baby girl, I don't want to tell her… I don't want to tell her the times she goes glassy-eyed. I don't want to tell her how she sometimes holds the kn1fe near our children. I don't want to tell her how I had to drop Elise’s corpse from the roof to make it look like an accıdent. Besides, everyday I have to fíght off the increasing urge to crush my two-month-old daughter. Just like I did with Amy and Elise.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 6 days ago Old_Lady_In_Titanic Everyone else was distracted by the huge iceberg that glided within inches of the ship. Only I saw the giant metallic sea-bear gash a hole in the hull beneath the waterline with it's razor sharp knife-like claws.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 hr. ago jesth857 I Watched As My Son Slowly Turned Blue After Tasting My Food From DoorDash Will they ever stop trying to poison me?
ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴᴰᴬʸ ᶜᴬᴺᴰᴸᴱᔆ ᵇʸ ʳᵉᵈᵈⁱᵗ ᵘˢᵉʳ ᶻᵉⁿʳʸʰᵃᵒ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱᶠᵗᵉᵉⁿ ᶠˡⁱᶜᵏᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ‧‧‧ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒ ᵃᵛᵃⁱˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍˡᵃⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵈ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘⁿᵇᵉᵃʳᵃᵇˡʸ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʳᵉᵈ ˢᵃᵈˡʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿʸⁱᵉˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶠᵃˡᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᶠᵉᵉᵇˡᵉ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᵂʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ "ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ⸴" ˢʰᵉ ᵇˡᵉʷ ᵃ ᵍᵘˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷⁱⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃⁿᶜⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ᵈⁱˢˢⁱᵖᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᶠᶠˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵐᵒᵏᵉ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ‧ ᴵᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ʸᵉᵃʳ; ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᶜᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʰᵘᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧‧‧ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒ ᵃᵛᵃⁱˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐᵉʳᵉˡʸ ᵈʳⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉʳ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ‧
Tʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-Tʀᴇᴀᴛ /sʜᴏʀᴛsᴄᴀʀʏsᴛᴏʀɪᴇs GᴜʏAᴡᴋs Tʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-Tʀᴇᴀᴛ “Is ᴛʜɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, Jᴀɴᴇᴛ? Yᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏɴ Eᴅᴅʏ ᴀʀᴇ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ!” Mʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴍs ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɴɪsʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʙᴡᴇʙs ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴ’s ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ. Aʟʟ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪs ᴀ sᴇᴀ ᴏғ sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ Hᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴄᴀʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛs, ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴀs ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴀs ʜᴇʀs. “Yᴇs” I ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ, ᴀᴅᴊᴜsᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏsᴛ ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄᴀʀ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ. “Mʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ.” “Oʜ ɪᴛ’s sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇɴɪᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ. Iɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪᴅs ᴅᴏᴏʀ-ᴛᴏ-ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ, ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀʀs ɪɴ ᴀ ʟᴏᴄᴀʟ ᴄʜᴜʀᴄʜ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋs. Lɪғᴇ’s ᴀʟʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴀᴘᴛɪɴɢ.” Eᴅᴅʏ ʙᴏʙs ɪɴ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏsᴛᴜᴍᴇ. Eᴀɢᴇʀ, ʜᴇ sᴇᴛs ᴏғғ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴏᴏᴋɪʟʏ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴs ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɪᴅs ʟɪɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ. “Tʜɪs ᴅᴏᴇs sᴇᴇᴍ ғᴜɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅs, Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ” I ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ sʜᴇ ᴘᴀssᴇs ᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇs. “Bᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ sᴀғᴇ ɪs ᴛʜɪs? Wɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀs’ ᴄᴀʀs…” “Hᴏɴᴇʏ, ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ᴍᴜᴄʜ sᴀғᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ- ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ!” sʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀssᴜʀᴇs ᴍᴇ. Sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ, I ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴄᴀʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛ sʟᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ sʜᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴ ᴇɴɢɪɴᴇ ʀᴏᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴇ. Tʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ SUV ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʏ. Eᴅᴅʏ ɪs ɴᴏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴇᴇɴ. “Hᴇʏ!” I sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ. Eᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ sᴘɪɴs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ I’ᴍ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ SUV ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡs ᴇʀʀᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ. Wɪᴛʜ ᴀ sᴄʀᴇᴇᴄʜ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇs ᴛᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴜs. Aᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs ʙᴇɢɪɴ sʜᴏᴜᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴠᴀɴ ᴀs ɪᴛ ғʟᴇᴇs, ᴀʟʟ ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ ғʀᴀɴᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴀʀᴇ sᴀғᴇ. “Is ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ?!” Aᴍɪᴅsᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀᴏs, I ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ Eᴅᴅʏ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. I ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪɴ ʀᴇʟɪᴇғ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ʜᴜɢ. “Aʟʟ ᴅᴏɴᴇ—ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ” ʜᴇ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜʟʏ. I sᴍɪʟᴇ ᴀ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ sᴍɪʟᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ. Tʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴇᴘᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴠᴀɴ, ᴅʀɪᴠᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴍʏ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ, ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ᴅɪsᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. Iᴛ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴍʏ sᴏɴ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀs ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙʀᴀᴋᴇ ʟɪɴᴇs. Tᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʜᴇʟᴘʟᴇss ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇs ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʟʟ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs sᴍᴀsʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴇᴇs ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴅɪɢɢɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ sᴡᴇᴇᴛs.
https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/new/
The End From Redditor u/MrCookieCutter: For the first time in recorded history, no humans died today. Granted, that's because the last one died yesterday.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago LifeIsContrast I ̼ͨͪj̱͉umpé̞d̊̐ fro̞̜m̲̐ the ed̰ͫ̀ġͪe̩͐ and̝͍ͭ ͉̾̈́pl͖͓̂u͇ͩ̋n̏̔g̯ed͓͎ͦ͂ t̹̅̀o̹͇w̆ards thͤe d͎͛ͤe̬̰p͔̂t̻h̟̓ͫs̘̩͊̑.͓̰.̰ͭ͐.̑.̭ p͔̻̥̮̒͒l̗͙̦̩̪̪͙̯͐̂̚ĕ̻̝̳̣͈͖̞̎̿̊͊͋̈́͒̑a͚̣̹ͮ̌͆̇̾s̠̘̰͙̰̐͑̋e͇̰̳͓̥̊̂͌͐̍͑̂,͚̘̜̉ͯ̒ͤͬ ̖̭̲̟̥͍̹͎ͧ͒ͯ͒ͨ͗̉F̭͎̌̇͑ͣḬ̑̃ͥͥͧN̗̰̎̓͗D͓̠͎̂̿ͨ́̉͐ ̘̤̤̠̘̺̼͖̩̓̆͒̔ͭ̆ͯ̚M̲̫̙͙̏ͦ̀̑E̺̗͈̣̹ͯ́̚ ̬̤͎̪͔̤̤̯ͧ͌ͭ̌̿ͩA͎̗͉͕̯̲̤͓͒̌ͪN̫̥͎ͯ̈̎͌͊͒D̠̬̮͆ ̬͇̫̠ͩ͒K̞͕̙̮̫͇͎͉ͤ̈́̿͒ͧ̽̐ͤͅI͉̒͗ͥL͍̤͚͖͚̆ͯ̎̽̑L͓̣͎̗̾ͯ̈́̚ ̣͎̱̪̝͉̈́ͣ̂̓̆̂̋ͤͫM̙̙̼ͩ͗͋ͣͫE̮̔̌͑̊!̳̖͉̺̾ͅͅ
Grandfather Tim By Reddit user Human_Gravy Grandpa Tim was a bit of a recluse, as my family liked to say. He lived out in the middle of nowhere in an old, dilapidated house. But when he came around, everyone listened. No one argues or disobeys his commands, as strange as they were. For example, the time Tim convinced my Aunt Betty to purchase a life insurance policy on my Uncle Bill. Betty argued but gave in to Grandpa who insisted on paying for the policy. Two years later, Uncle Bill passed away from a sudden heart attack. Aunt Betty received a huge payout that helped Uncle Bill's wife with the funeral costs. Sometimes his advice would be to get checked at the doctor, even if you weren't sick, and they would find a life threatening tumor inside you. Other times, it would be to stay home from work on a certain day and then you'd see a twenty car pile up on the highway in the news. Grandpa Tim always knew exactly when to call. When Tim died, I inherited all his possessions including his house. The lawyer instructed me to check his mailbox for a letter Tim left me. I found myself opening a door in the basement and then almost fainting when I saw the endless cavern of hourglasses as far as the eye could see. The closest hourglasses to the door had the names of my family members etched on their bases. That's when I saw the sand in my parent's hourglasses about to run out. I called them and told to not get on the plane heading to Tim's funeral. The sand in their hourglasses refilled.
https://www.reddit.com/r/BabyNameLab/comments/vvdp14/my_partner_is_pregnant_on_our_first_child_and_we/
ᔆʰᵘᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴰᵒʷⁿ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵈ ⁿᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ˢʰᵒʳᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢˡʸ‧ ᵁˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵖᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵃˡᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃʸ ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵘⁿⁿᵉʳᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷᵉᵉᵏ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍʳⁱᵉᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵒˢˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁿᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʰᵃᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵖᵘᵖᵖʸ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ‧‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵐᵒᵉᵇᵃ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃⁿⁱᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒʳ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ⸴ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ʷᵉᵉᵏ! "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵖˡᵃⁿⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵇⁱᵍ ᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵍᵘᵃʳᵈ!" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵉⁿᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵃʳᵏᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵇᵃʷˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵈʷⁱⁿᵈˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈᵈʳᵉˢˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵃᵗᵃ ⁿᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ ᵇʸ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʳ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!" "ᔆʰᵉ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˡᵒˢᵗ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵃˢᵗ ʷᵉᵉᵏ ᵃᵍᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇʳᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ˢʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵗ ᵐʸ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵖᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳ‧ "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵘⁿˢᵉᵗᵗˡⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴵ'ᵐ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵉᵐᵖᵗʸ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵈᵉᵖʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵖⁱⁿᵉᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ‧ "ᴳᵃʳʸ⸴ ʰᵉʸ; ᵈᵃᵈᵈʸ'ˢ ʰᵒᵐᵉ! ᴬⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵍᵘᵉˢᵗˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧" ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒᵗ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᴼʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᵍᵘᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ᵗʰʳᵉᵃᵗ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᴳᵃʳʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᵗ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃⁿᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ʳᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵇᵒᵘⁿᵈᵃʳⁱᵉˢ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉ ᵏⁱᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧ ᔆᵒʳʳʸ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʸᵉᵗ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵃʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ᵇᵉ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ᴵ ᶠᵃⁿᶜⁱᵉᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵒⁿ ᵐʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵇᵒᵗʰ‧ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ ʳⁱˢᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ‧ "ᴺᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᵏʳᵃᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ᵍˡᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ʷᵒᵏᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍʳⁱⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ! ᔆᵒ ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵃˡˡᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ⸴ ᵇᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒʳ ⁱᶠ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜʰⁱˡˡᵃˣ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃˢ ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ ᵃ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵏ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉᵉᵏ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃˢᵏ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃˡᵏ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˡᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉ ˢᵒ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵘᵖ ᵒⁿ ᶻ'ˢ‧‧" "ᴬʰ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ʷᵉᵉᵏᵉⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳ; ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵈᵉᵐⁱˢᵉ⸴ ᵇʳⁱˡˡⁱᵃⁿᵗ ᵍᵉⁿⁱᵘˢ! ᴺᵒʷ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵘˢʸ ʰᵉˡᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍᵘʸ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ˢʰᵉ 'ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗᵃˡˡʸ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒᵈᵉᵈ' ʸᵉᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧" ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵃᵗʰ‧‧
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Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare They all laughed at me I suppose you could say I was bullied. It would start with some simple na͠me calling. The second they started in on me I could feel b!ood rushing to my fac͘e. It made them more relentless. I tried to avoid them, but they always found me. They pitch me, kick me, bug me. The paın was made so much worse because this sort of ab3se should never been from famıly. And my parents did nothing. They all hate. I did me too. I wasn't as sm͢art, or as talented as my siblings. I had nothıng to offer my famıly. I wanted to earn their lòvè, but all of my attempts just drove them further away. I had almost given up h̴ope. And then the day came. I had just encountered my nightly bearing. I lifted myself off the floor, slowly, but my oldest brother lıcked me again. I hit the floor once more. I listened to them laugh as I drag myself over the cøld ground and into the darkness. When I was far enough away to just barely hear their laughter, I let myself collapse onto the snow. I cried for a very long time. All wanted now to dıe. I awoke some time later to my father's voice. "Son, wake up. I need your help." My father needed me. This was my chance to make him proud. Before I knew it, it was time. My father told me exactly what to do. I wasn't sure I could do it, but he reassured me. "I believe in you." No one had ever said that to me before. My face grew hot again, but I did as my father said. This time no one laughed. But it didn't matter. I heard the laughing in my head. I felt the attacks‎ all over again. I remembered the bloodƴ těars, the paın caused by my siblings. I remembered my father doing nothıng. My despair turned to anger, and my anger turned to hate. And in that moment, I realized the one quality in myself that might be considered admirable. I was brave. I whispered it to myself over and over. I said it until I started to make myself believe it. And then, I looked toward the ground beneath me. With my siblings on my heels and my father trailing behind, I led them down. My face grew hot, hotter than ever. "Rudolph, what are you doing?!" I could feel my father pulling on the reins, but I was determined. I was brave. I kept going down until I met the concrete. My eight siblings followed. And then my father. Here's the thing about magic... It wasn't enough to save us that night. But it tried. It made their dEAth slow and agonizing. But me? I smiled and I felt my face grow hotter and hotter. I knew my nose was shining brighter than ever before. And no one was laughing.
PrinceJustice237 • 2y ago As a fan of hurt/comfort/whump, I realised that I put my favourite characters through so much because I want to see their friends comfort them and help them through the aftermath. It’s good old fashioned catharsis, plus drama is just entertaining. A pure, fluffy, happy story where nothing bad happens works great for a oneshot but it’s harder to sustain 20+ chapters of that, you need drama and conflict and that requires stakes. That usually involve someone suffering to some degree.
• 2y ago Honestly, a huge reason why I torment my favorites is so that when the comfort comes along (because it always does in my case), their friends/found family can show them how much they are loved.
Yk what fk it Regretevator has the gayest ahh fandoms of all time bru , I can't take a step without seeing a gay horizontal threesome. So yk what? Fk it. Fk gnarpy , fk bive , fk split , fk poob , especially fk pest , or fk pest twice I hate that MF , fk Dr retro , fk it all. Oh except for lampert , he's the only chill MF
r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 day ago CenturyCoal I pressed the stuffed teddy bear's chest to hear it's voice box the bear should have said 'i love you' not 'let me out'
Jessica by reddit user Breakevencoast5 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ My soul mate left me today. All that's left of him now, is pairs of sock that probably fell out of his suitcase, and a note labelled "Read Me" that I found on the kitchen counter, picked it up and started to read. “just can't take it anymore. Jess, you know love you, and I always will, but over the last few months things have gotten bad for me. Yes, it's her. She's following me again and I'm scared that if she found you she'd kill you. I'm sorry, I wish I could go into more detail, but you be home in a few minutes, and I don't want to have to tell you any of this to your face. It would destroy me to see you cry. - David.” Suddenly the front door creaked open. Instinctively, grabbed a knife off of the knife rack and ran into the pantry. "Hello?" Called a woman from the entrance way. I didn't answer. Instead, I cracked the pantry door open just enough to see the note on the counter. "Anyone in here?" She yelled, walking closer to the kitchen. "I'm not going to hurt you." She stepped into the kitchen. There was a small Swiss army knife in her hand. She picked up the note and started to read. Within seconds she started crying hysterically. The woman fell to her knees and dropped the knife. lignored every logical though in my brain, kicked the door open and thrust the knife into her stomach. "Welcome home Jessica" I said, twisting the knife with a bright smile on my face.
1 day ago u/Sticky_Cheetos He handed me a box and said, “If you press this button, you get $100,000, but it takes one year off of your lįfe.” I pressed it once, and everything went dark̵.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 min. ago AcrobaticTransition4 “My lower back hurt” I told the chiropractor Then I heard a snap and then all the pain has been permanently alleviated as i bent slumped over feeling nothing...
r/TwoSentenceHorror 9 mo. ago Jellycaine The aliens invaded planet earth, and the human never seems to notice. A thousand years later and they already think shadows are a natural occurrence.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 13 hr. ago drforged ↓ “Have you ever seen a monster?” My son asked, as I tucked him in “No” I answered, as I looked into his many yellow eyes...
r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 min. ago derf_vader The crack in the wall was only wide enough for a shadow to pass through. I didn't know once it went in I would be stuck here in the wall along with it, unable to leave, and unable to cry out and warn others.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 40 min. ago derf_vader "Hello Darkness my old friend..." I sang the familiar lyrics as I passed by the dark alley. "I've come to greet you at the end," the Darkness sang back softly creeping, as it enveloped me in the sounds of silence...
ʳ/ᵗʰʳᵉᵉˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ ᵐʸᵈᵃᵈˢⁿᵃᵐᵉⁱˢʰᵃʳᵒˡᵈ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵍᵍ ʰᵘⁿᵗ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵏⁱᵈˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃˢᵗⁱᶜ ᵉᵍᵍˢ ᴵ ʰⁱᵈ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ʷⁱᵈᵒʷ ˢᵖⁱᵈᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵍᵍˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧‧‧
⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⢶⣦⣶⣶⣤⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠙⠻⣿⣿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠛⠻⣿⣿⣇⠀ ⠀⠀⢤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⢸⣷⡄⠀⣁⣀⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠏⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠿⠇⢀⣼⣿⣿⠛⢯⡿⡟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠦⠴⢿⢿⣿⡿⠷⠀⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⣶⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣦⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁
⡡⢣⠘⡰⢈⡒⢌⠒⡌⠴⣈⠒⡌⠒⡌⠴⣈⠒⡌⠒⡌⠴⣈⠒⡌⠒⡌⠴⡈⢆⡑⢢⢁⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣦⣅⡒⡌⠰⣁⠒⣰⣦⣶⣶⣶⣶⣴⣂⠜⡰⢈⠆ ⡑⢢⠡⣑⠢⠜⡠⢃⠜⡰⢠⢃⠬⡑⢌⠒⡄⢣⠌⡱⢈⡒⢄⠣⢌⡱⢈⢆⡑⠢⠜⡠⢃⣿⣿⡿⢁⠆⠭⣙⢛⡛⢿⣿⣷⣷⣤⣿⠟⡋⠔⣂⠒⡌⡙⢻⣿⣆⠥⢊ ⡅⢣⠒⡄⡓⢌⡱⢌⢊⠴⡁⢎⡰⢡⢊⠱⡘⠤⢊⢅⠣⡘⠌⢆⠣⡰⢉⠆⠬⡑⢊⡑⣾⣿⣿⢃⠎⣘⠒⡰⢂⡜⢠⢂⢍⣿⠏⡡⢊⠔⡡⢢⠱⢠⡑⢢⠹⣿⣎⠆ ⡜⢢⠑⡰⢉⠆⡔⢊⡔⢢⢉⠆⠴⡁⢎⠱⠨⠜⡡⢊⠴⣁⠫⢄⠓⠤⢃⠎⡱⢈⠥⣼⣿⣿⡏⠆⡜⡠⠍⡔⡡⠜⡰⢈⣾⣷⢈⠔⡡⢊⡔⢡⠊⠥⡘⣰⣿⣹⣿⢈ ⡜⢠⠃⡜⢂⢎⡘⠔⣨⠒⡌⠜⢢⢉⠆⣩⠑⣊⠱⣈⠒⠤⢃⠎⡌⠓⡌⡜⢠⢃⢼⣿⣿⣿⠣⡘⠤⡑⣊⠔⣡⠚⡄⢃⢿⣿⣇⢊⠔⡡⠘⠤⡉⢆⣡⣻⡿⣿⣿⠂ ⡌⡅⢎⠰⡉⢆⠸⡘⢄⠣⡘⠬⣁⠎⡘⡄⢣⡘⠤⡑⢊⡑⡊⠴⡉⢜⠰⢌⠒⡌⣾⣿⣿⡏⡔⢡⢃⢒⠡⣊⢄⠣⠜⡨⢘⢿⣿⣧⡊⠴⣭⣶⣷⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⠏⡌ ⡒⢌⠢⡑⠜⣈⠦⡑⢊⠴⣁⠣⠢⠜⣡⠘⡔⢨⠒⣉⠆⣡⠑⡆⣉⠦⡉⢆⠱⣸⣿⣿⣿⢃⠜⢢⠘⡌⡱⢠⢊⠜⢢⠡⢃⡌⢛⢿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣾⣽⣿⣿⠟⡡⢊⠔ ⡑⡊⡔⢩⡘⠤⢒⢡⡉⡒⠤⢃⡍⠲⣀⠧⠨⢅⠚⡄⠚⡄⢣⢐⠂⢆⠱⣈⢆⡙⣿⣿⡿⡈⠜⡠⢃⡔⢡⠢⢡⠚⠤⡙⠤⡘⢢⠘⡌⢛⡛⢟⡛⠛⠭⡐⠬⡐⠣⢌ ⣃⠣⡐⢄⡰⢠⠚⡄⢠⠃⠆⡜⢠⠢⡀⠔⢢⠘⠤⣐⣢⣴⣤⣾⣶⣾⡶⠿⠾⠷⠿⠿⢷⣷⣶⣷⣤⣴⣦⣴⣂⣔⠄⢣⡐⢠⠂⡔⠰⢠⠐⡄⡐⡒⢄⠣⢄⠓⡰⢀ ⢆⡱⢈⠆⡔⢡⣊⣴⣡⣎⣵⣌⣆⡱⣈⣮⣴⡿⠾⠛⡍⡩⢉⠔⡠⢂⠔⡉⢆⠩⢌⡑⢢⠐⡄⠢⢌⠩⡉⢍⡙⡛⠿⣷⣾⣤⣷⠾⠷⠿⠿⠷⣶⣷⣬⣖⠉⢆⠱⣈ ⢆⢂⢣⣸⣴⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⡿⢛⠋⡅⢢⠑⣡⠒⡡⢊⠴⡁⢎⠢⡉⢆⢃⡒⢌⠂⢇⡸⢁⠎⡔⠡⢆⢢⢁⡃⢆⡉⢛⠻⣿⣬⣱⢈⠱⢠⢉⠛⣻⣿⣮⡔⢂ ⢌⢢⣾⣿⠟⢋⠡⢂⡱⣸⠾⡛⢡⠘⡄⢣⠘⡤⠩⢄⠣⠔⡃⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⡘⢄⠋⡔⠤⢃⠜⡠⢋⠔⢢⠡⠜⡠⠜⣠⠃⡔⡙⢻⣷⣕⠢⢌⠒⠤⡙⢿⣿⡆ ⣸⣿⢟⠡⢊⠔⡡⢣⡞⢅⠣⡘⢄⢣⠘⠤⢣⠐⠣⢌⠒⡡⠜⡠⢃⠜⡠⢃⠜⡠⠎⡌⠜⡠⢃⠎⡰⣁⠎⡸⢄⠃⢎⠱⡘⢄⠣⠔⡡⢆⡘⢻⣿⣤⢉⠆⡱⢈⣿⣿ ⣿⡿⣈⠱⡈⠦⢡⠛⡰⢈⠆⣑⠊⠤⡉⢆⣡⢊⡱⢈⡌⠱⣈⠱⡈⢆⠱⢌⠢⡑⠬⡐⢣⠑⡌⢢⡑⢄⢊⠔⣨⣘⣢⠑⡌⢢⢉⠒⡡⢆⡘⢄⠚⣿⣧⢊⢔⣥⣾⣿ ⣿⡇⢆⠱⣈⠑⢆⡱⢂⡱⢊⠤⡉⢆⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣬⠑⡄⢣⠘⡄⠣⢌⠒⣡⠒⡡⢆⠣⢌⡡⠘⡄⣊⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⠊⡜⡐⢢⠑⡌⠒⡌⢿⣯⣿⣿⣺⣿ ⣿⡇⢎⣰⢆⡉⠆⡔⢡⢂⠥⢂⡱⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠘⡄⠣⢌⠱⡨⠘⡄⠣⢔⡈⠖⣨⠐⡅⢲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢆⠱⡈⡜⢨⡑⢌⡘⣿⣿⡞⣿⣿ ⢹⣿⡄⣿⠤⡘⢰⠘⡄⢎⠰⢃⠔⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢃⠌⣑⠊⡔⢡⢃⠬⡑⢢⠘⡔⢢⠑⡌⣹⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⡿⣿⡏⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠒⣸⣿⢭⣿⠏ ⢌⠻⣿⡯⢐⢡⠊⠴⡈⢆⢃⠎⡰⢙⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣷⣿⠏⡌⠒⡌⢢⠑⡢⢌⠢⡑⢢⠑⡌⢢⠱⡐⢌⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢃⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⣑⠊⡜⢰⣿⡏⡅⢊ ⡌⢢⢹⡇⠎⠤⡙⠤⡑⢌⠢⠚⡄⢣⠘⡛⠿⠿⠿⢛⡉⠒⡌⢱⠈⡆⣑⠒⡌⠢⢅⠣⡘⢄⡃⠖⡡⢊⠔⡛⠿⠿⠿⠿⢋⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡠⢃⠜⡰⣿⡗⡨⢡ ⡜⢠⢻⣿⠈⢆⡑⢢⠉⢆⡑⢣⠘⣄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⠤⡘⢡⠜⢢⠑⡰⢂⡱⢈⡱⢈⠆⣑⠢⣘⠰⣁⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⠤⡑⢌⠢⡑⠌⢆⡱⢈⠆⣱⣿⡧⡑⢂ ⡜⢠⠚⣿⣏⠰⡈⢆⢩⠂⡜⢠⠣⢄⠣⡑⢊⠴⣁⠒⡉⢆⡘⢢⢉⠴⡁⢆⠱⢠⠃⡜⢠⢃⠤⢃⠆⣡⠱⡈⢆⠱⣈⠒⣡⠚⡄⢣⠘⡌⠜⢢⡐⢡⢊⣼⣿⠇⣌⠡ ⡜⢢⢁⠻⣿⣷⡁⠎⠤⣉⠴⡁⠎⠤⢃⠬⢡⠒⠤⠹⣖⣴⣈⠆⡌⢢⠑⡌⢊⠴⡑⢌⠒⡌⢢⠡⢊⢔⣢⣿⢃⠒⠤⣉⠔⢢⠘⡄⢣⡘⢌⡡⠘⣄⣾⣿⠟⡰⢠⠃ ⡜⢄⠪⠔⡹⣿⣿⣮⠰⢄⠢⡑⢊⡱⢈⠆⠣⠜⢢⠑⠬⢻⣿⣿⣶⣧⣜⣠⢃⠒⡌⢢⣑⣌⣦⣵⣾⠿⢋⠔⡨⠘⡔⢢⠘⢢⡑⠬⢡⠘⡄⢂⢇⣾⣿⢋⠆⣑⠢⣉ ⡜⢠⠃⢎⠰⢌⢻⣿⣷⣮⡐⡡⢃⠔⢣⠘⡡⢍⢢⢉⠆⡡⢂⠜⡙⡛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢛⢛⠫⡁⢆⡘⠤⢊⡔⢩⠰⡁⢎⢡⠘⡄⢣⠘⣄⣷⣿⠟⡡⢊⠴⡁⢖⠠ ⡈⡁⡌⠸⢄⡈⢄⠸⢿⣿⣿⣄⣇⠸⡀⢇⠡⡈⠄⡌⡈⢡⡈⢄⠡⡈⢄⠉⡈⣁⠉⡄⣁⠌⡠⢁⠤⡈⠤⢁⠸⡀⢇⠸⡀⠌⣠⠸⣀⣿⣿⡿⢁⠌⡠⢁⡄⠡⠌⡠ ⠥⡑⢌⠱⣈⠲⣈⠦⢡⠙⡻⢿⣿⣿⣶⣌⣢⠑⠬⡐⢡⠒⡌⢢⠑⠬⡘⢌⠱⣀⠣⠔⠢⠜⡰⢡⠒⡡⢃⠍⢢⠑⡌⢢⣁⣧⣶⣿⡿⢛⠅⣊⠔⣊⠑⡆⢌⠣⣑⠢ ⠣⠜⡠⢃⠆⡱⢄⠚⡄⡓⢄⠣⡘⣙⠻⢿⢿⣿⣷⣷⣦⣵⣈⣆⡉⢆⠱⣈⠒⡄⢃⠎⡱⢈⡔⢡⢊⣔⣡⣮⣶⣷⣿⣿⠿⢟⠛⡡⠜⢢⢉⠴⡘⢄⠣⠜⣈⠖⡠⢃ ⣃⠣⡑⠬⣘⠰⢌⡑⢢⢉⠆⠥⡑⢄⣳⣾⣿⠯⢹⡟⡛⠻⠿⠿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⢿⣿⣦⣉⠆⡱⠌⡜⠢⢌⢢⠑⣊⠜⡌⠴⣈⠱⣈ ⢆⡱⢈⠖⣠⠃⢎⠰⡡⢊⠜⡠⢃⣾⣿⡿⢉⠆⡹⠕⡨⠑⡌⠒⡄⢆⠢⡐⠿⠟⣿⢻⢯⡿⣽⣯⣿⣽⣿⡘⣿⣇⠻⣿⣿⣎⠔⡡⢌⡑⣊⠤⢋⠔⡌⢢⡑⢢⠱⢠ ⠆⢆⠣⡘⠤⣉⠆⣃⢒⠡⡊⢴⣿⣿⢏⠰⡁⢎⠰⣁⠲⡉⠴⡉⢔⠊⡴⢁⠎⡔⠢⢌⠢⡐⢅⠢⣉⠙⣻⡇⢽⣿⡕⡨⣿⣿⡎⡔⢢⠑⡤⢚⡐⡊⠴⢡⡘⠤⠓⠤ ⡍⢢⠑⡸⢐⠢⠜⡰⣈⠱⢨⣾⣿⠏⡄⢣⢘⡤⢃⠤⢃⠜⠤⡑⢊⠜⡠⢃⠜⣠⠙⡄⠣⠜⢢⠑⡤⢃⠌⡓⠤⣿⣧⠑⡸⣿⣿⡰⢁⢎⠰⡁⠦⣉⢒⡡⠜⡰⢉⠒ ⡌⣅⢊⠱⣈⠱⢊⠱⣀⠣⣽⣿⢏⠰⡈⢆⣺⠡⢊⠔⡡⢊⠆⡅⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⠣⢌⡑⠪⢄⠓⠤⡉⠦⡑⠢⢼⣿⢡⠒⣹⣿⡇⠎⣄⠣⡑⢆⡡⠒⠤⠓⡌⡱⢈ ⡒⠤⢊⠔⣡⠊⣅⠣⢄⠣⣿⣿⠌⢢⠱⣲⡇⡱⢈⠆⡱⢈⡒⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⡑⠢⢌⠱⡈⠎⡔⡑⠢⢅⠃⢞⣿⢆⠱⣈⣿⣿⠐⢢⡑⢌⡒⢰⠉⢎⠱⣐⢡⠊ ⡑⡊⢅⠪⢄⠣⡄⢣⠊⡔⣿⣿⠘⡄⢓⣸⡇⠰⣁⠚⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⠤⠓⡌⢢⠌⡱⢈⠆⡅⡃⢆⠱⡉⢆⠩⣘⣿⠎⡰⠄⣿⣿⢈⠥⡘⢄⠎⣡⠚⡌⢒⠌⡢⢑ ⠥⡑⢊⠔⢣⡘⠰⣁⢃⡒⣿⣷⢡⠘⠢⢼⡇⠣⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⠤⣉⠒⠥⡘⢄⠚⡄⢣⠘⠤⡑⢌⠢⢱⢈⠒⢬⣿⠃⠴⡁⣾⣿⠠⢒⠡⢎⠰⡁⢎⠰⡉⢆⡱⢈ ⢣⢘⠡⢊⠆⡜⢡⠜⡠⢆⢹⣿⡢⢉⡑⢺⣏⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⠌⡤⢉⠆⡱⡈⠖⣈⠆⣩⠂⡕⡨⠜⠢⢌⠊⣴⣿⠉⢆⠡⣿⡿⡐⣉⠲⣈⠱⡘⢌⠱⣈⠖⡠⢃ ⠣⢌⠒⣉⠒⣌⠒⡘⡔⠨⡌⢿⣷⡡⢌⠩⣷⢂⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠣⡐⢣⠘⠤⡑⡘⡄⠎⡄⢣⠰⡁⢎⠱⣈⠒⣼⡟⢌⠢⣩⣿⢃⢆⡑⢢⢡⠚⠤⣉⠒⡔⡨⢑⠌ ⡃⢎⡘⠤⣉⠤⣉⠒⠬⡑⢌⢂⠻⣷⣮⣴⣿⡌⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⢂⠍⡢⢑⠢⠜⡰⢁⠦⡑⢌⡂⠇⡄⢣⣿⣧⣮⣴⡿⢃⠎⡰⢨⠡⢆⡉⠖⡨⡑⡰⢁⢣⠘ ⡑⠦⡘⡐⢆⠱⡠⢋⡔⡉⢆⡊⢱⠈⡍⢩⢹⣿⢀⠣⡘⠤⢃⠱⡈⠦⡉⢆⠱⡈⢆⠓⡄⡃⢆⡑⠢⠜⡰⢈⣭⣿⠩⠩⢍⢂⠣⡌⣑⠢⣑⠢⣉⢒⢡⠒⣡⠉⡆⢩ ⡑⢆⠱⢨⡘⡰⢡⠒⢤⠉⡆⠜⡡⠚⣌⠢⠌⣿⣆⠱⣈⠒⡉⢆⡑⢢⠑⡌⢢⠑⡌⢒⠌⠴⠡⢌⠓⡌⠰⣡⣿⣷⠡⢍⢂⠎⡱⢐⠢⣑⠢⡑⠔⡊⠤⠓⡄⡓⢌⠢ ⠑⠊⠴⠁⠦⠑⢢⠉⠆⢣⠘⠌⠡⠣⠄⠣⠉⢿⣿⡇⠤⠉⠒⡌⠴⠁⠎⠰⠁⠎⠰⠉⡜⠰⠉⠆⠱⠈⠑⣾⣿⠏⠘⠤⠉⠆⠑⠊⠱⢠⠃⠜⢡⠊⡅⠓⡌⠔⢣⠘ ⣃⠣⢄⠣⡄⢣⠊⡜⣐⢊⠱⢨⢡⠒⣌⠢⣉⠼⣿⣷⠠⡉⢆⠱⣀⠣⢌⠡⠚⡄⠣⢌⡑⢢⠑⡌⢢⢉⣼⣿⣿⠌⡱⢠⠓⡌⡱⢉⢆⢊⠜⠤⡉⢆⠍⣢⠑⡒⢌⠒ ⢆⠱⢊⠔⠬⣁⠞⡰⢠⡉⢆⢃⠦⡑⠤⢃⡔⢂⢿⣿⡆⠱⡈⢶⣶⣥⣊⢌⠱⣈⠑⣢⣘⣤⠿⢒⠡⣲⣿⣿⠃⡜⢠⢃⡜⢠⡑⢊⡔⢊⠜⢢⢉⠆⡚⢄⠣⠜⣨⠘ ⢎⠢⢅⠚⣐⠢⡘⢄⠣⡘⣐⠊⡔⢡⠊⠥⡘⢄⣺⣿⡧⢃⠜⡠⣾⢿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣟⠫⣉⠤⢃⠎⡰⣿⣿⣇⠜⡠⢃⠦⡘⡰⢨⢡⠘⡌⠜⢢⠡⠚⣄⠣⢊⡱⣀⠣ ⡊⡔⢊⢼⣤⣳⣧⣎⣔⣡⣂⣣⣜⣢⣭⣦⣵⣾⡿⢋⠴⡁⢎⠰⢸⣿⣾⡧⣿⣿⡇⡒⢄⠪⠔⡌⠰⡉⢿⣿⣧⢒⠡⢢⠑⢢⠑⢢⡉⠴⡉⢆⡱⢉⠤⢃⡱⠰⢠⢃ ⠱⡈⣜⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢀⠃⢆⠱⡈⠦⡑⢌⠹⣛⣿⣿⣇⡜⢠⢃⠚⡌⠱⡈⢆⢹⣿⣇⣣⣥⣊⣅⣪⠡⡘⠤⠓⡌⣐⠣⡘⢢⢁⠧⢡⢂ ⢣⠑⡌⢩⠑⣂⠒⡄⡒⢄⡒⡐⢢⠉⣍⣩⣽⣿⣮⣘⣄⢣⡘⣤⣑⣼⣾⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣦⣬⣒⣌⣱⣈⣦⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⢛⠩⡑⢢⢑⠬⡑⢌⠤⢃⠥⢃⡌⢆⠃⢆ ⠣⠜⡠⢃⠚⡄⢣⢘⠰⡈⣔⣥⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⡟⢛⢋⣭⣿⣿⡿⠿⢟⣛⣛⣯⣭⣴⣾⣷⣾⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⢇⡘⡰⢊⠌⢆⠣⡘⡄⢋⠤ ⣃⢣⠑⡌⠱⡈⠥⢊⠔⡙⡛⠭⠩⠍⡍⢡⢃⠒⣐⠢⠌⠥⡙⢌⠱⢌⠒⣬⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠟⣛⠛⡛⡩⣽⣿⣿⣿⣵⣦⡽⠾⠼⡖⢡⠒⡡⠚⡌⢒⠡⠜⡡⠒
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r/shortscarystories 1 day ago CBenson1273 My Aunt Tried To Protect Me From My Mother My childhood was a nightmare. My mother hated me and took every chance to show it. Nothing I ever did was good enough. ‘B’s on report cards were because I was stupid. Unfinished chores were because I was lazy. Any beatings I got were because I deserved them. And my father was just as bad. Fortunately, her sister was my refuge. When things got too bad, I could go over there to escape for a day or two. Perhaps that was why my mother didn’t like Aunt Lisa. The feeling was mutual. So I was surprised when my aunt told me she’d invited my parents over for tea tomorrow. “Why would you invite them here? The whole reason I come here is to get away from them!!” “I know,” she replied. “But that all ends tomorrow. I’m going to have a talk with them; they aren’t going to mistreat you anymore.” I knew in my heart they’d never change, but she was determined to try. The next day, I sat in the corner as my parents entered. “There you are, you wretched child,” my mother said. “Come home this instant and stop causing trouble!” “Now, now, Lydia,” replied my Aunt. “That behavior is exactly why I called you over today. It’s quite enough.” “HOW DARE YOU TELL ME HOW TO RAIS—!” “Do calm down, Lydia. All that screaming isn’t good for your blood pressure. What’s say we all relax, have a nice cup of tea, and discuss this like adults?” My mother still looked furious, but she took the proffered cup and retook her seat. “How you treat Annie isn’t right. It needs to stop.” “You have no say in what I do in MY home. And whatever MY daughter gets, I can assure you it’s deserved.” “So you aren’t open to change, then?” “Absolutely not - that girl’s gotten exactly what she deserves.” “Very well, then. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” “Come to wh—“ my mother started when she suddenly began to foam at the mouth and grasp at her throat. “Don’t mind that,” my Aunt said. “Just a bit of poison I placed in your cups. I was hoping you’d agree to change your ways, but clearly you never will. Goodbye, sister.” After my parents had collapsed on the floor, I looked over at my aunt. “What did you do?” “What needed to be done,” she replied. “But what if they’d agreed to stop?” “Then I’d have given them the antidote I was keeping in my purs—“ A look of shock crossed her face as her throat closed, replaced by panic as she rifled desperately through her purse. “Looking for this?” I asked, holding up her syringe. “But…. why?” my aunt asked as she collapsed. “Remember all those times you saw my bruises and scars and sent me back there anyway?” “But I loved you like a daughter,” she gasped with her final breath. “Then you should’ve done better,” I said
⡛⠋⠙⠋⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⠶⠶⢶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡁⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠿⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⢷⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠇⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⣠⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⣰⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣼⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣷⣦⡄⣀⡀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⣤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⢀⢀⡀⠀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⢡⣿⢿⣶⢸⣿⡿⢃⣿⡉⢹⣿⠁⢀⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⠛⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣇⢠⣿⡅⠸⡿⠇⢸⣿⠆⠀⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⠆⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠘⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣧⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⠂⠀⠀⢨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⢰⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀⣾⡇⠀⢠⣤⣴⣤⣤⣤⣤⠀⣤⣤⣤⡀⣿⡅⣤⣤⣤⣼⣿⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⣸⡇⢸⣿⢸⣿⠘⣿⣼⡏⠀⠀⢸⣿⠉⢨⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⡏⠁⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⢹⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠆⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠻⠃⠸⠿⠸⠿⠀⣼⡟⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⠀⠸⠿⠟⠛⠀⠛⠛⠿⠀⠿⠈⠿⠿⠿⠘⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⣀⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢻⣧⡹⣿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠉⣁⣠⣤⣴⡆⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⣹⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣴⡾⠟⠋⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠟⠀⠛⣣⣤⣤⣴⣶⣾⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠉⠀⢠⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠄⠀⠀⣤⣤⣴⠾⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣶⣶⣶⡆⢰⣶⢶⣦⣰⣶⣶⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⡦⠀⠀⢸⡇⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢀⣉⣁⣠⣤⣴⣶⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⣿⣿⣇⢸⣿⣾⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⠃⠀⠀⢸⣷⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⢸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠟⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⢸⣿⡏⠁⣿⣯⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢿⣷⣤⣀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠆⢀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⡟⠛⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⣈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣥⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⡀⢀⣀⣀⡀⣀⣀⣀⠀⢠⣿⢀⣄⣀⣀⡛⠛⢛⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⡁⢸⣿⢸⣿⠙⣿⣇⣠⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⣿⣿⡇⠺⣿⣿⡁⠿⠿⠿⠇⠸⠿⠾⠿⠀⠿⢿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⡸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠾⠿⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠻⢶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠉⠉⠿⠷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣬⣿⣿⠿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣟⣽⡿⡋⠀⢰⡿⠋⣼⡿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠛⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⣿⢻⣷⠀⢰⣿⠃⣠⡿⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⢿⡏⣿⣶⢸⣿⢢⡿⠃⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠘⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠙⠿⣯⣛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡀⠁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣦⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠈⢻⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠃⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠈⠛⢛⣛⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⠁⢹⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡀⠀⠹⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡃⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠈⢻⣶⡀⢀⣤⡾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠉⢹⣷⠀⠀⣀⣹⣿⣿⡋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡾⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠶⠟⠛⠛⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣆⠀⣿⣿⣄⠘⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠻⠿⠶⠶⠶⠶⠿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡄⣿⣿⣻⣷⣾⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣧⣼⣿⣿⣭⣿⣾⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⢹⣏⠉⣿⣿⠉⣿⣷⣄⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠈⣿⣷⣿⣿⢸⡟⢸⣿⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣶⣶⣿⣶⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣾⣷⣾⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

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ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᵀʳᵃᵛᵉˡˢ — 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜; 𝟷,𝟷𝟽𝟶 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴵ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ᵍᵃᵈᵍᵉᵗˢ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵐʸ ᵐᵘᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵃᵈ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ'ˡˡ ᵐᵉᵉᵗ ᵐʸ ᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵃ‧‧‧" "ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵏⁱᵈ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵗᵒⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳˢ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵇᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ‧ "ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵒˡᵏˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ ᵘˢ ᵘᵖ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ; ᴹʳ‧ ᴴᵃʳᵒˡᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹˢ‧ ᴹᵃʳᵍʳᵉᵗ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢᵏˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁱᵛᵉᵈ ⁿᵒ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷʰᵒ'ˢ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ 'ᴴᵒʷ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ˢᵒ ᶠᵃˢᵗ? ᴬᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ⁿᵒʷ!' ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʳᵉᵐᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ 'ᔆᵗⁱˡˡ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ᵒᵘᵗ!' ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᵂᵃᵏᵉʸ⁻ʷᵃᵏᵉʸ⸴ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ⁻ᵈᵒᵒ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵉˣᶜˡᵃⁱᵐˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ʳᵒᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵖˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʲᵉʳᵏˢ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ "ᵂᵃ⁻ᵃ⁻ᵃᵍʰ‽" "ᵀⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ‧‧" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵐʸ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʷᵃʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘˢ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵒᶠᶠ! "ᵀʰᵉ ʳⁱᵈᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ˢᵒ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ʸᵉˢ ˢᵒ ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵈˢ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉʳʸ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃʳᵐ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵈˢ‧ "ᴺᵒᵗ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵗʳᵃᶠᶠⁱᶜ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵇʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵏᵉˡᵖ ᶠʳⁱᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵒʸˢ!" "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᴹˢ‧ ᴹᵃʳᵍʳᵉᵗ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ˢʰᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ˢᵉᵃᵗ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ'ʳᵉ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ "ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ ᴹᵘᵐ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉˢᶜʳⁱᵇⁱⁿᵍ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᵖᵃˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵇʸ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘⁿ'ˢ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵈʳᵒʷˢʸ ʸᵉᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳˢ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵈᵉ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖʸ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧ ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵒʳᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵍᵘᵉˢˢ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ˢᵒⁿᵍ‧‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡˢ ᵒᶠᶠ⸴ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ⁿᵃᵖ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡⁱⁿᵍ; ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷⁱᵖᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵒᵒˡ ᵒᶠᶠ⸴ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ⁱᵗ'ᵈ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢˡᵉᵖᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵘᵈᵍᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ⸴ ᵉˣᶜᵉᵖᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵉᵃⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᶠᵃˡˡᵉⁿ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃˢ ˢᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗʳᵉᵗᶜʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡᵉᵍˢ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵈᵃᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵘᵇˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗʳᵃⁱᵍʰᵗᵉⁿ‧ "ᵁⁿʰ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵍᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ˢᵒᵈᵃ ᵖᵒᵖ ᵈʳⁱⁿᵏ; ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵍᵃˢ ˢᵗᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ⸴ ⁱᵍⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵐᵇᵃʳʳᵃˢˢᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵉᵛⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ 'ᴴᵒʷ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉ? ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵈⁱᵈ ᴵ ᶠᵃˡˡ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ?' ᵀʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃ ᵏᵉˡᵖ ˢʰᵃᵏᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ʰᵃˡᶠ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵃᵈ ˢᵒⁿᵍ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ˢⁱˡᵉⁿᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃʳᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ⁿᵃᵖˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵍᵃˢ‧ "ᴮᵒᵇᵇʸ!" ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ ʰᵘᵍˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᴼʰ ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ!" ᵀʰᵉⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴹʸ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ!" "ᵂᵉ'ᵛᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐˢ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ!" "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵃ?" "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵗᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧‧‧" ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ "ᔆᵒ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒ⁻ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ᵉᵐᵇʳᵃᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵘʳˡᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ‧ ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᶠˡⁱᶜᵏᵉʳ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵐᵃ ᵃʳʳⁱᵛᵉ‧ ᴴᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗˡʸ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ‧ "ᴳʳᵃᵐᵐᵃ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ‧ "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵘᵖ ˡᵃᵗᵉ‧" ᵀʰᵉʸ ʰᵘᵍ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ᵛᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ‧" ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡᵉᵃᵈˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵐᵃ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ʰᵉ ˢʰᵃʳᵉˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵐʸ ᵒʷⁿ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ!" ᴳʳᵃᵐᵐᵃ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢʰᵃʳᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉ ᴹˢ‧ ᴹᵃʳᵍʳᵉᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᴴᵃʳᵒˡᵈ ˢᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴳʳᵃᵐᵐᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵍᵉᵗʰᵉʳ‧ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ; ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃᵉ? ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵍⁱᶻᵐᵒ‧‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ ˢᵃʸ‧ "ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ʰᵉ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶠᶠᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ‧" "ᴴᵃʳᵒˡᵈ ᵈᵉᵃʳ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᵒᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵇᵘᵗᵗᵉʳᶠˡʸ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃⁿⁿᵒʸᵉᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ⁱᵗ ˢᵒ ᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵒᶠᶠᵉⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧" "ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵖᵃᵗʳᵒⁿⁱˢᵉ; ᵍᵒᵗ ⁱᵗ‧" 'ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃʳᵉˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ?' "ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧" 'ᵂʰᵃᵗ‽ ᴺᵒ‧‧‧' "ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ?" "ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉⁿ'ᵗ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡˡʸ ᵐᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵍᵘʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵏ?" "ᴼⁿˡʸ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᴵ ᵗᵘᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈ‧" ᴳʳᵃᵐᵐᵃ ᵗᵒˡᵈ⸴ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃˡˡ⸴ ᵃˡᵉʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ʳᵘⁿ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ "ᵂᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱᵈⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃʳⁿ‧ "ᴺᵒʷ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰʸ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ᵇᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵇᵃʳⁿ‧" ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵃ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ʰᵒᵖᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵃˣ ʰⁱᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ˢⁱᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵈᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃʳⁿ‧" ᴳʳᵃᵐᵐᵃ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ'ᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ‧ ᴹᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱᵉˢ!" "ᴵ ᵇᵘⁱˡᵗ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱᵉ ᶜᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃᵘᵗⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ "ᶜᵃⁿ ˢʰᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ʳᵉˢᵗᵃᵘʳᵃⁿᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!" ᴴᵉ ʷᵉᵃʳⁱˡʸ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷˢ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ "ᴵ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᵐʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱᵉˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᶜʳᵃᵗᶜʰ!" "ᴵ'ᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ‧ "ᴳᵒᵒᵈ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ!" ᴳʳᵃᵐᵐᵃ ʰᵘᵍˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ "ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ⸴ ˡᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ⁱᶠ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵒʳ⸴ ʷᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴰᵒᵉˢ ʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵃˡᵏ?" "ᴴᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ʸᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ! ᵂʰʸ?" "ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᴵ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ‧ "ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰ‧‧‧" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵇᵒᵗʰ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱᵉ ᶜᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ‧ "ᴰⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵈᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃʳⁿ? ᴳʳᵃᵐᵐᵃ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵘʳᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱᵉˢ! ᔆʰᵉ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ˡⁱᶜᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵖᵒᵒⁿ‧‧" "ᴵ ᶜᵉʳᵗᵃⁱⁿˡʸ ᵈⁱᵈ!" ᔆʰᵉ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳᵉᵈ‧ "ᵂᵉ'ᵛᵉ ˢᵘᵍᵃʳ ᵖᵃᶜᵏᵉᵗˢ! ᴳʳᵃᵐᵐᵃ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵐᵉ ᵃ ˢᵖᵒᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ˢᵘᵍᵃʳ ʰᵉˡᵖˢ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵍᵒ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ "ᴮᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰ ᵃᵗ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠᵃᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ‧ "ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵁⁿᶜˡᵉ ᔆʰᵉʳᵐ?" "ᴵ ᵐᵃʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᵘʳ‧‧‧" "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ᵇˡᵃᵐᵉ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵐᵃ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰⁱⁿᵍ‧" "ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉ ᵘˢ?" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒᵈˢ‧ "ᵀʰᵃ⁻ ᵘʰᵐ– ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧" "ᴺᵒʷ ˡᵉᵗ'ˢ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ᶜᵒᵒᵏⁱᵉˢ!"
ᵀᵒ ᴴⁱᵗ ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ "ᴰᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰ ˢᵒ ʷᵉ ⁱⁿᵈᵘᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ/ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧" ᴰᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ʰⁱᵗˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ˢᵒ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᵐᵖ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳˢ‧ "ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃˡ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ᵐᵒⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ʰⁱᵐ‧" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁿᵒᵈˢ‧ "ᴴⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᵗ ˢᵒ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜⁱⁿᵉ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ⸴ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ⸴ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵃ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘ— ʷᵉˡˡ ⁿᵒ ᵒᶠᶠᵉⁿᶜᵉ‧‧" "ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ‧" ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉ'ˢ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗᵉᵈ/ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ⸴ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵗ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ'ᵐ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᵇʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ˢⁱᵈᵉ‧‧" ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ᵇʳᵃᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ˢᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᶜᵒᵐᵃᵗᵒˢᵉ/ᵘⁿʳᵉˢᵖᵒⁿˢⁱᵛᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ! ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵃʸˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ⸴ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢᵃᵈ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ ᵒᶠᶠ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵃᵗˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ‧ "ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ⸴ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵍˡᵃᵈˡʸ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ʷᵉ'ᵈ ˢⁱⁿᵍ?" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ⁱᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗ ˢᵗᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘʳ ˢᵉᶜʳᵉᵗ ˡⁱˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵍʳᵉᵈⁱᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ; ʸᵒᵘʳ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶜˡᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ!" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵃ ˢᶜⁱᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᵐᵃᵍᵃᶻⁱⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵃᵈˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ "ᵂᵉˡˡ ᴵ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᶠᵉᵉᵈ ᴳᵃʳʸ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵗᵒᵐᵒʳʳᵒʷ‧ ᴹⁱˢˢ ʸᵒᵘ!" ᴴᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃˡᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵈᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ/ᵃⁿᵃᵉˢᵗʰᵉˢⁱᵃ ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵒʷⁿ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ‧ "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽" ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵃᵗ ᵇʸ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵇʳᵒʷ ᶠᵘʳʳᵒʷˢ ᵃˢ ˢʰᵉ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ˢʷᵉᵉᵗˢ; ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰᵉʳ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ‧ "ʸᵒᵘ'ʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ ⁿᵒʷ‧" ᴴᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ⸴ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ "ʸᵃʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ ⁿᵒʷ!" "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵃᵗ ᴮⁱᵏⁱⁿⁱ ᴮᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵐʸ ᵇᵒˢˢ ʰⁱᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧‧" "ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵃˢʸ!" ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵘʳˢᵉ'ˢ ˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵍᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ‧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟑𝟒𝟖
:Troll Face::Troll Face:(‿ˠ‿) Ɑ͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ لں͞
ambut • 2y ago I am learning that I heavily gravitate towards hurt/comfort and whump in a way that's psychologically questionable, but honestly I think that for those of us who like comfort with our hurt, it's like balancing an equation -- more hurt now = more comfort later. The worse the pain, the more blissful the relief.
Bikinigirlout • 2y ago For me, it’s partially because the writers of my show sucked at actually giving my favorite characters good storylines so it feels like a fix it attempt at allowing both the characters to go through their traumas in different situations.
https://www.reddit.com/r/EveryMemeItalia
Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 13 hr. ago Madmonkeman The boy was determined to catch Santa entering the house and wanted to see what would happen. 100 years later as an Christmas elf, he still can’t remember anything other than constantly making toys, wrapping presents...
_aconite_cj_ "Honey, what's wrong? Why ain't you touching your food?" She asked calmly, without knowin I saw her mix the poison in my soup moments ago.
Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 57 min. ago BaronBigly My abductor was “kind” enough to leave a TV in my windowless cell so I could watch my devastated family on the news. I had to do a double take when I turned the TV on and there I was, smiling like a cheshire cat, my parents beside me sobbing with relief that I’d been rescued.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 hr. ago IAbstainFromSociety My attempt to break into the cockpit with the fire axes failed, as the cockpit doors had been reinforced to protect against terrorism. Alone in the cockpit, there was nothing to stop my suicidal co-pilot from crashing the plane into the mountains..
r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 hr. ago Masterspace69 I had a friend in school who always seemed to be praying to ward off bad spirits, but each time I approached her she would stop and deny it. In the end, I had to eliminate her, as she could not ruin my deal with them…
r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 hr. ago Indian_DeadpooL I found my childhood diary today which I don't recall writing at all.. I laughed how I used to fear "monster under my bed" and wrote everything in third person.Then I turned to the latest entry dated today "it found the diary today"
r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 hr. ago nohemi_trevino My friend was extremely grateful when I gifted her a huge pack of moisturizing lip balms for Christmas. Her mouths had been looking chapped recently, and if they felt uncomfortable at all, they might start eating her as punishment.
Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 11 hr. ago daneylion I was told that I was getting too old to be a pilot and that this would be my last flight before retirement. I’m going to make sure for everyone on board that it’s their last flight too.
Petnochlab ~ Seeing the horrible mistreatment of residents in care facilities, I promised never to let my disabled son end up in one. So when the doctors told me I had 4 weeks to live, I put my son in the car and headed toward the lake, ready to keep my promise.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 21 hr. ago buddybuddyboi "Aaaand, cut!", the director exclaimed. I don't know how many pieces of me they need, but they continued to chop me into pieces.
r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago myymyy Rollercoaster "Mooooom, I don't like it. I want to get off!" I was a bit surprised. He had always been so brave. I was way more afraid than him when we got on. I never liked to be so high up from the ground. "This will be so much fun!", he had said when we were parking the car. I had kinda hoped he would be strong for both of us. "Oh honey, I'm sorry but we can't get off now, the ride has already started. But remember the small rollercoaster, in the park we went to when you were little? With the funny clown? This is just like that, only bigger. And remember how AWESOME it was?" My son looked at me with watery eyes. He had been so excited about this. I tried to swallow my own nervousness and keep talking to calm him down. My voice was shaking a bit, but I managed to put on a smile. "It's okay, it's okay. You might feel a bit funny in your stomach. It's because of the speed and the changes in the force that pushes you. It's normal! Listen, do you hear? Other people are scared too." He looked at me with his kind, blue eyes and nodded. Just barely. I wanted to hug him, but my back was pressing to the seat so heavily I couldn't move enough. So was his. My eyes caught a glimpse of the sun over my sons head. The sky was so bright. I tried to ignore the metallic clanging sound and people screaming somewhere that seemed to be so far away. Oh, how I missed the ground. Then I felt a big drop on my stomach. We were going faster and faster. My son started sobbing and I tightened my grib on his hand. I thought that he would become such a handsome man someday. He would end up having a good life, and marry a nice girl - or a guy, who knows? I didn't care as long as he was happy. That's all I wanted. For him to be happy and not scared. "Hey, you know what? Close your eyes. This will be over soon. I'm here. I'm not letting go." Someone behind us started to scream. I felt my blood run cold. I tried to keep my focus on the one thing that mattered: my sons hand and my calm voice that kept telling him that it was all going to be okay. Oh, he would become such a handsome man someday. But at this moment he was just a 6 year old boy on his first flight, going to surprise his grandparents all the way across the country. And the last thing I saw before I closed my own eyes, was the second engine on fire...
r/TwoSentenceHorror Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 days ago Former-Landscape-930 My sister and I are like attached at the hip. No, not as conjoint twins; our mother is just an excellent seamstress..
r/2sentence2horror 3 days ago CreativestName69420 There are approximately 100,000,000,000,000 cells in your body. Now 99,999,999,999,999, now 99,999,999,999,998, now 99,999,999,999,997, now 99,999,999,999,996…
r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago bombbodyguard Outside, the lights of towns and villages flickered in the distance as the Polar Express raced north. Unbeknownst to the happy children aboard, the North Pole would have its next batch of laborers, cursed to toil for centuries, never to return home…
r/TwoSentenceHorror 12 hr. ago GileadPromoter I approached the familiar woman in large sunglasses asking if we had met before. It wasn't until she removed her sunglasses that I remembered our first encounter in Athena's temple all those years ago...
Image of ant walking away, holding a sack tied to a stick over its back. The ant appears sorrowful and dejected, as if all the joy had been sucked out of it's day. It's antennae are lowered, presumably from the intense sadness it feels. ⠀
Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 hr. ago GraceTheGreat666 I asked the genie to show what I look like a year from now. I found myself staring at a gravestone with my name on it.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 56 min. ago Zcissors I have a plan, and if im wrong, I could kill thousands If im right... millions
As my spirit left my body I could see all my children cradled in the arms of God ✨ I should ask for their forgiveness for aborting them.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 min. ago The_Legendary_Yeeter I never make the same mistake twice! I make it 5 or 6 times just to be sure.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 day ago SuspiciousSlowpoke I lay on the floor, para1yzed and nearing deαth The last sound I hear is my new-born baby crying in the bath, as it slowly fills with water..
Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago GuyAwks More Unsolicited Parenting Advice We’ve all run into those insufferable types before in our lives. You know the kind. Total strangers who somehow think they’ve earned the right to micro-manage how you raise your kids just seconds after meeting you. And the kicker is when they aren’t even parents themselves. What would they know? After a long afternoon of dropping items into a shopping cart, me and my preschooler had almost finished the weekly grocery haul. We were on our way to the checkout counter when a lady at a near- by promotional kiosk summoned my attention. “Hello ma’am, could I please have a moment of your time?” the apron-clad woman chirped from behind her booth. Spying the unfinished Coke Zero can Ivy was drinking, this lady scrunched up her face in disapproval. The next words out of her mouth made my blood boil. “I see that your little princess is drinking a canned soda. Ooh, that’s not so great. Have you considered trying our special, 100% natural vitamin juices? Here, try a sample.” Instantly, her hand shot out with a small plastic cup filled with liquid. Taken aback by her boldness I tried to remain somewhat polite. “Thank you, but we’re not interested,” I answered curtly. Something was so unsettling about her fake smile and shrill enthusiasm. “A girl as young as her shouldn’t be drinking soda. It’s full of sugars and unhealthy preservatives. Let me throw that away for you-” Without any hesitation, she reached down to pry the can out of my daughter’s hands. I could not believe the audacity of this woman. “Excuse me!” I snapped, finally losing my composure. “How dare you try and take my daughter’s drink!” “But miss, this is much healthier for your angel,” protested the creepy woman waving her strange-looking syrup at us. “Surely you don’t want her to be sickened by all those dangerous chemicals-” “If you don’t leave us alone, I will report you to the supervisor!” With that, we turned and began strolling away from said relentless salesperson. Only once we were in- to the parking lot did I feel myself calming down. Gosh, that lady really freaked me out. What are the odds someone would randomly try to discard my daughter’s soda on today of all days. The one day I chose to put poisson in it. That rare, traceless toxin I slipped into her soda can earlier today cost me a fortune to order from overseas. The bubbles from the carbonation mask any taste of the thing, making it the perfect delivery system for it. My oblivious daughter would've been dēαd within the hour.. Oh, how I wish people would keep their parenting advice to themselves. It’s not needed. I know how to kıll my own kid just fine, thank you very much!
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