Cryingcore Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Cryingcore Emojis & Symbols It’s mყ ρᥲrtყ ᥲᥒd I'ᥣᥣ ᥴrყ ιf I ᥕᥲᥒt to 🧁 ૮꒰ ฅ́˘ฅ

‘Crying isn’t going to help’ by HonestRage She's gone, all because of him. Dead. He killed my wife. She'd still be here, if it's not for him. If only he could speak with reason; I could’ve let him live long enough to explain. But that was obviously not going to happen. After all, he was born just a few minutes ago...
It’s mყ ρᥲrtყ ᥲᥒd I'ᥣᥣ ᥴrყ ιf I ᥕᥲᥒt to 🧁 ૮꒰ ฅ́˘ฅ̀ ꒱ა
→ нєαят ѕαι∂ тσ єуєѕ ∂ση’т ѕєє мσяє в¢σz уσυ ѕєє &αмρ; ι ѕυƒƒєя. єуєѕ ѕαι∂ тσ нєαят ∂σηт тнιηк мσяє в¢σz уσυ ƒєєℓ &αмρ; ι ¢яу.
owlet: i think it’s importaпt to acknowledge that there is a contingent of doctors who have been… uh… coasting ever since med school ended. here’s a quick crash c̀ourse in telling them apart competent doctor: recognises that your sympt0ms sound familiar but also realises that the illness is outside the scope of their expertise, so they give you a referral incompetent doctor: doesn’t recognise your sympt0ms, chalks it all up to a m3ntal health and/or weıght prxblem and refuses any follow-up care competent doctor: stays up to date on the latest research in their field, is interested in sharing newly-discovered ınformαtıon with you incompetent doctor: maintains the absolute minimum amount of knowledge to not have their licence revoked competent doctor: approaches their patients with good faith incompetent doctor: assumes all patients are deceptive and have ulterior motives competent doctor: recognises crying and other overt paın sympt0ms as unacceptable and tries to resolve your paın any way they’re able incompetent doctor: ignores paın and either refuses to attempt to treat yours or willingly worsens it during a treatment by ignoring your reactions competent doctor: realises they don’t have all the answers, isn’t intimidated by the thought that you attend other doctors incompetent doctor: views their patients as income-generators and feels personally insulted when you attempt to leave their practise competent doctor: recognises all their patients are people; will be transparent about your treatment and speak to you with advanced and specific terminology if you demonstrate that you úndèrständ incompetent doctor: views patients as a sub-class of people, justifies lying to patients as “for their own goo͠d” (via intp-fluffy-robot) Jan 08, 2022
pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
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r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago Gallantmirth I watched the monster's jagged claws inch slowly out from under the bed. "I won't let him in again, I promise" it assured me as my dad crept to the room.
⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢛⠩⢤⣶⡤⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⡇⠺⠏⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠻⣿⠟⠀⢚⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⢛⣛⣛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣄⣼⣿⣿⣿⡿⢟⣉⠥⢤⣬⣀⣉⣙⠛⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣤⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⡡⠶⡟⠋⣭⠛⡟⠛⠿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣡⠆⠁⠀⢠⡟⡝⣩⡍⡛⡟⠙⠲⢄⢙⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢡⣤⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⣠⡀⠀⠹⢦⣤⡴⠃⠀⢔⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣯⡉⠁⠀⠀⠘⣧⡁⠉⠅⣡⠇⠀⠀⢀⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣮⢩⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣤⣔⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣛⡻ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣀⠀⠈⠙⠛⠛⠁⠀⣀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣵⣮⣥ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠉⡁⣀⣈⣩⠝⢉⡻⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿ ⡿⡭⢤⣶⣬⠽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡻⣥⠀⠙⠿⠃⢀⣲⣾⣾⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠀⠀⣀⣉⡛⠻ ⣿⣄⣀⡛⠁⢀⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⡀⢀⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢋⡀⠐⠀⡴⢋⡉⢿⡁ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⣤⠤⠤⣤⡤⣀⡙⠻⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⢧⣈⣍⡸⠃ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡅⣾⣿⠟⠀⠀⠀⢇⠀⠛⢀⡇⠀⠈⢙⣷⣿⣿⣷⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴ ⣿⣿⠿⠛⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣟⣚⣀⣀⣀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠀⢀⣠⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠀⠀⣾⣿ ⡿⠋⠤⠶⠀⢀⡙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⡀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⣿⣿ ⠀⡴⡻⡋⠓⡄⠈⠉⠒⣝⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⣉⣤⣤⣤⣀⡉⠛⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣸⣿⣿ ⠀⢧⡁⠛⢀⠇⠀⠀⠀⢈⡼⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣸⣿⡿⠃⠐⢉⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠂⠠⢤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⢀⣠⣾⣿⣶⢾⠛⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠐⢀⠔⠋⠁⢰⡟⠡⢒⣒⠤⡄⣀⣀⣀⠉⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣶⣦⡄⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣊⠑⠲⠚⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢀⢴⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠃⠹⠿⢁⢁⣿⠀⠀⠉⠹⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣷⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⣑⣈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠶⣤⣥⠤⠞⠃⠀⠀⠐⠀⣪⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡄⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⢴⣶⠊⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣦⣬⡁⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣴⣾⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠋⠙⢋⣛⣛ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠋⣁⣤⡤⠦⠀⠤⢤⣄⣀⠀⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣤⣤⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠉⠀⠀⢀⢠⠴⣶⣭⣭⣯⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢁⠴⠋⠁⡞⠀⢢⣤⡄⡀⢳⠈⠙⠷⣤⡀⠉⢻⣿⣿⣽⠀⠈⠋⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⣠⣄⣬⠿⠟⠛⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠈⠉ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⢃⠄⠀⠀⠀⢧⡀⠘⠛⡃⢁⡾⠀⠀⠀⠈⠟⢶⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡇⢀⢀⡼⠞⠉⣠⣤⠴⠶⠶⠤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⡿⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠶⠤⠴⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣼⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⣴⡽⠋⠀⣠⠞⠉⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⠈⠙⢦⡀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣧⣪⣦⣀⣀⠀⠀⢂⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⡇⢠⡾⠋⠁⠀⢠⡟⠀⢀⠜⢀⣠⣀⠈⢤⠀⠈⣷⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡕⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⡟⢠⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠈⠀⣿⣿⣿⡇⢀⠄⠀⣿⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢠⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣇⠀⠀⠢⡈⠛⠋⢀⡔⠀⠀⡟⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢣⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⣄⠀⠀⠁⠈⠀⠀⣠⠞⠁⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⡟⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⠲⠶⠶⠒⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠛⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡵⠷⠒⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣿⣿⠟⠋⠁⠀⠀⢠⡤⠀⠀⣀⠀⠈⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣤⣀⡀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡔⢠ ⣿⣁⡤⠎⠁⠀⠀⡞⠀⣵⡇⡌⡇⠉⠐⠠⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣾⣷⣦⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿ ⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠱⣄⡉⣁⡱⠃⠀⠀⠀⠈⠪⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠛⠉⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢉ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣄⣀⠀⠉⠉⠀⠀⢀⣴⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡁⠈⢿⣷⠒⠘⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣀⣤⣤⣀⣈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⣿
“Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "we're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad." "How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice. "You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here.” —Alice in Wonderland.
Mᴀʀʟᴀ's ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʜᴀs ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴡɴ ᴏғ Rɪᴠᴇʀ Fᴀʟʟs, ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴘʀᴇᴠɪᴏᴜsʟʏ ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙɪɢ ᴄɪᴛʏ. Oɴᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ sʜᴇ ғɪɴᴅs ᴀ sᴛʀᴀʏ ᴄᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴛ ɴᴀᴍɪɴɢ ɪᴛ Mɪsᴛʏ. Tʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴅᴀʏ, Mᴀʀʟᴀ ɪs ᴘʀᴇᴘᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏ ᴏᴜᴛsɪᴅᴇ ʙᴜᴛ Mɪsᴛʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ʜɪssɪɴɢ. Mᴀʀʟᴀ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇs ᴛᴏ sᴛᴀʏ ɪɴsɪᴅᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ Mɪsᴛʏ ᴄᴀʟᴍ. Tʜᴀᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ Mᴀʀʟᴀ ɪs ᴀᴡᴏᴋᴇɴ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀ sʟᴇᴇᴘ ᴡʜᴇɴ Mɪsᴛʏ sɪᴛs ᴏɴ ʜᴇʀ ғᴀᴄᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴇᴀʀʟʏ sᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀs. Tʜᴇ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴅᴀʏ, Mᴀʀʟᴀ ɪs ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜ ᴅɪᴠᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴇ ғᴇʟᴛ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙʀᴜsʜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴsᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʟᴇɢs. Sʜᴇ ɴᴇᴀʀʟʏ ᴛʀɪᴘs ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟᴍᴏsᴛ ᴅʀᴏᴡɴs. As ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴘᴀssᴇs, Mᴀʀʟᴀ sᴛᴀʀᴛs ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʟʏ. Sʜᴇ ᴄʀᴀᴠᴇs ᴛᴜɴᴀ ᴄᴀssᴇʀᴏʟᴇ. Aᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, sʜᴇ ʜᴇᴀʀs ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀs, ᴛᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ᴡᴀɴᴛs ᴛᴏ sᴛᴇᴀʟ ʜᴇʀ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ɪᴛ ʜᴀs ʟɪᴠᴇᴅ ɴɪɴᴇ ʟɪᴠᴇs. Tʜᴇ ɴᴇxᴛ ᴍᴏʀɴɪɴɢ, sʜᴇ's ᴜɴᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴡʜᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍɪɴɢ. Lᴀᴛᴇʀ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʏ, Mᴀʀʟᴀ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴀʟʟ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴠᴇɴᴛs ᴜᴘ, ᴀɴᴅ sʜᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʜᴀᴛ sʜᴇ ᴍᴜsᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ʀɪᴅ ᴏғ Mɪsᴛʏ. Mᴀʀʟᴀ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ sʜᴇʟᴛᴇʀ, ʙᴜᴛ Mɪsᴛʏ sᴏᴍᴇʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴀᴋᴇs ɪᴛ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ʜᴏᴍᴇ. Mᴀʀʟᴀ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜᴛ Mɪsᴛʏ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴄᴀɢᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴏɴ ᴀ ʙᴜs ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴛʀᴀᴠᴇʟɪɴɢ ғᴀʀ ᴀᴡᴀʏ. Mᴀʀʟᴀ ᴘᴜᴛs Mɪsᴛʏ's ᴄᴀɢᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀsᴋᴇᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғʀᴏɴᴛ ᴏғ ʜᴇʀ ʙɪᴋᴇ. Wʜɪʟᴇ Mᴀʀʟᴀ sᴛᴏᴘs ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅʀɪɴᴋ, Mɪsᴛʏ ɪs ʀᴜɴ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ʙʏ ᴀ ᴅʀɪᴠᴇʀ, ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴛ sᴇᴇᴍs ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴇsᴄᴀᴘᴇᴅ. Mᴀʀʟᴀ ɪs ʀᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇᴅ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴇᴇᴍɪɴɢʟʏ ʙɪᴛᴛᴇʀsᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴅᴇᴍɪsᴇ. Hᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɴɪɢʜᴛ Mᴀʀʟᴀ ʜᴇᴀʀᴅ ᴀ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴛᴇʟʟɪɴɢ ʜᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ ʟɪᴠᴇs ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ...
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.
ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ᴼⁿᵉ ᴾⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ ᴳᵒ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʳᵗˢᶜᵃʳʸˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ʳ/ˢʰᵒʳᵗˢᶜᵃʳʸˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᶠᵒʳᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿᵂᵉˡˡ ᴼⁿˡʸ ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ᴼⁿᵉ ᴾⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ “ᴴᵒⁿᵉʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ‧” “ᴵ’ᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵐⁱˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵉᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ‧” ᴳʳᵃⁿᵗ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵃʳᵃᵍᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ⁱᶠ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵗᵒᵒ ᵒˡᵈ⸴ ʰᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵇʳⁱˡˡⁱᵃⁿᵗ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇⁱᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴮˡᵒᶜᵏ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵇˡᵒᶜᵏ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᶜᵃⁿⁿᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒʳᶜʰᵉˢ‧ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ʲᵃᶜᵏᵖᵒᵗ‧ ᴬ ᵖᵒʳᶜʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵍⁱᵍᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜ ᵇᵒʷˡ ᶠᵘˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ‧ ᴬ ˢⁱᵍⁿᵉᵈ ʷᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ˢⁱⁿᵍˡᵉ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ‧ ᴳʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵈᵘᵐᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵗⁱʳᵉ ᵇᵒʷˡ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷᶜᵃˢᵉ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ˢᵗᵒᵐᵃᶜʰ ʳᵘᵐᵇˡᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇⁱᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵃᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵗⁱᵗᵉ‧ ᴳʳᵃⁿᵗ ᵖᵘˡˡᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᴮᵃᵇʸ ᴿᵘᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗᵒˢˢᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵃᵖᵖᵉʳ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒʳᶜʰ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵒ ᵒʳᵈⁱⁿᵃʳʸ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵇᵃʳ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉ’ᵈ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵉᵃᵗᵉⁿ! ᴴᵉ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ! ᴬ ᴹⁱˡᵏʸ ᵂᵃʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ ᵃ ᴷⁱᵗ ᴷᵃᵗ‧ ᔆᵒ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ! ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵃʳˢ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵘˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵘⁿᵍᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾⁱᵉᶜᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵖⁱᵉᶜᵉ⸴ ᵉᵃᶜʰ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃˢᵗ! ᴴᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ’ᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷᶜᵃˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ ᵉᵐᵖᵗʸ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵗᵒᵐᵃᶜʰ ᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵘʳⁿᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ ᵒᵛᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵃᵍᵒⁿⁱᶻⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉⁿˢᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵘᵖ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵖⁱⁿᵉ⸴ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ‧ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳ ʰᵃᵈ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᶜʰᵒᶜᵒˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵃʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵍᵉʳˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍʳᵃᵇ ʰⁱˢ ʷʳⁱˢᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᶜᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵇᵃʳˢ ᵃˢ ʷᵉˡˡ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ᵃʳᵐˢ ʷᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡᵉᵍˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶜᵒˡˡᵃᵖˢᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃ ᵗʰᵒᵘˢᵃⁿᵈ ᶜʰᵒᶜᵒˡᵃᵗᵉ ᵇᵃʳˢ ᶜᵒˡˡⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜᵃᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᵀʷᵒ ᵏⁱᵈˢ ʷᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᵂʰᵒᵃ! ᶠᵘˡˡ ˢⁱᶻᵉ ᵇᵃʳˢ?” “ᴵˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵃˢᵗ ᶜˡᵉᵃʳ?” “ᵂʰʸ?” “ᴵ’ᵐ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒⁿᵉ‧‧‧”
I miss my papa ✨ I really wish I didn't poison him
I found myself opening a door in the basement and then I saw the endless cavern of hour-glasses as far as the eye could see. The closest to the door had the names of my family members etched on them. I saw the sand in my parent’s hour-glasses about to run out. I called them and told them to not get on the plane. The sand in the hour-glasses refilled. —Human_Gravy
For Employers w/ disabled workers If a person who has a disability wants to work they might have difficulty getting jobs. There are different types of disabilities to varying degrees. First, inform them the expectations of the job. Make sure they know how to do the job as you train. Give warnings (and explain why behind the warning) before resorting to termination, as some people might not under stand what they did wrong. Even if the disability is confidential, explain to coworkers not to give the employee a hard time, without divulging. Don’t touch the employee or their belongings (including any mobility aids) without asking them first. Allow the employee extra time if necessary so as to not overwhelm them. Monitor the surroundings to make sure no harassment takes place, possible barriers to accessibility, etc. Try not to get frustrated if they do something differently than what others might do, such as note reminders, etc.
Did You Know? You can look taller by improving your posture. Try doing different back exercises to keep your spine(s) in shape and reduce the hunch that is making you look short. Do exercises like chest openers, the cat-cow pose, thoracic spine rotation, horizontal front-to-back arm stretches, wall slides, and glute bridges.
Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 yr. ago _FallenAngel__ A genie granted me my wish to become the most beautiful woman in the world forever Now I sit here in a museum, frozen in a painting for the past 500 years as people passing by admire and faun over my timeless beauty
I ʜᴀᴅ ᴀɴ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀʀʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀs ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴍᴇ. Wᴇ ᴘʟᴀʏᴇᴅ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ ғᴏʀ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ. Mʏ ɪᴍᴀɢɪɴᴀʀʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴇᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴍʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ɪɴ ᴀ sᴇɴsᴇ ᴏғ sᴀᴅɴᴇss. Eᴠᴇɴᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ʏᴇᴀʀs ʟᴀᴛᴇʀ I ᴅᴜɢ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴍʏ ᴍᴜᴍ's ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴛʀᴇᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅs ғᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴀᴘᴇʀᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴡʜᴇɴ I sᴀᴡ ᴀ sᴛɪʟʟʙᴏʀɴ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ ᴄᴇʀᴛɪғɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴀ ɴᴇᴡʙᴏʀɴ ᴡʜᴏ sʜᴀʀᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴇxᴀᴄᴛ ʙɪʀᴛʜᴅᴀʏ. I ᴛʜᴇɴ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ I ᴡᴀs ᴀᴄᴛᴜᴀʟʟʏ ᴀ ᴛᴡɪɴ ᴀs ᴍʏ ᴍᴜᴍ ᴇxᴘʟᴀɪɴᴇᴅ ɪᴛ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴏᴜʀ ʙɪʀᴛʜ.
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/ᵀʷᵒᔆᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉᴴᵒʳʳᵒʳ ³ ᵈᵃʸˢ ᵃᵍᵒ ᴿᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿᴵˡˡ⁷¹⁰⁷ ᴳʳᵃⁿᵈᵖᵃ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ʷᵃʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵘˢ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ ᶜˡᵃⁱᵐⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ʰᵃᵘⁿᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᵂᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵘˢ "ˡᵉᵗ ᵘˢ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵘˢ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵘˢ ᵒᵘᵗ‧‧‧"
ᴸᵃᵗᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳⁿᵒᵒⁿ⸴ ʰᵉ ʷᵃˢ ʳᵉᵃᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵒᵘˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵃˢ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᶠˡᵒᵒʳ ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᶠˡᵒᵒʳ⸴ ⁱᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵛᵉʳʸ ᶠᵘˡˡ‧ ᴼⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ “ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ’ˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧” ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈʳⁱᵛᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢᵉ‧ “ᴺᵒ⸴ ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᴵ’ˡˡ ʷᵃⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ‧” ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵒʳ ᵇᵉᵍᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉˢᶜᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᴹᵒᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ˡᵃᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵃˢ ᵃ ᵗᵉʳʳⁱᵇˡᵉ ᶜʳᵃˢʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵒᵘᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵒʳ ʰᵃᵈ ᶜᵒˡˡᵃᵖˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵏⁱˡˡᵉᵈ‧ [ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᔆᶜᵃʳʸ ᔆᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵀᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᴰᵃʳᵏ⸴ ᵇʸ ᴬˡᵛⁱⁿ ᔆᶜʰʷᵃʳᵗᶻ]
‘Seeing Red (The First Day of School)’ by Zenryhao Everyone loves the first day of school, right? New year, new classes, new friends. I like the first day of school for a different reason, though. You see, I have a sort of power. When I look at people, I can…sense a sort of aura around them. A colour outline based on how long that person has to live. Most everyone I meet around my age is surrounded by a solid green hue, which means they have plenty of time left. A fair amount of them have a yellow orange tinge to their auras, which tends to mean a disease or fire; some tragedy. Anything that takes people “before their time” as they say. The real fun is when the auras venture into the red end of the spectrum, though. Every now and again I’ll see someone who’s basically a stoplight. Those are the ones who get in a car crash, or even a victim of crime. It’s such a rush to see them and know their time is numbered. With that in mind, I always get to class very early so I can scout out my classmates’ fates. The first kid who came in was basically radiating red. I tsk tsk tsk. Huh. But as people kept walking in, they all had the same intense red glow. I finally caught a glimpse of my own fading reflection in the window, but I was too stunned to move. Our professor stepped in and locked the door, his aura a sickening shade of green...
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...
StressedAfraid_ My husband and I watched our daughter play in the park. We knew she was the perfect one to take home.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 6 yr. ago Lightuke After tucking my son into bed he says "check under it for monsters under my bed" I found my son hiding under it whimpering "Daddy, there's someone on my bed..."
Horror Short Story: The Accident In this horror short story, a man tries to cope with what he has done. Written by: Reddit user Minnboy Halverson sat in his dark living room. He hadn’t moved for over an hour. The accident earlier that evening kept playing over and over in his mind. The light turned red, but he was in a hurry and accelerated. An orange blur came from his right and in a split second there was a violent jolt, then the bicyclist rolled across his hood and fell out of sight on the pavement. Horns blared angrily and he panicked, stepping on the gas and screeching away from the chaos into the darkness, shaken and keeping an eye on his rearview mirror until he got home. Why did you run? He’d never committed a crime before this and punished himself by imagining years in jail, his career gone, his family gone, his future gone. Why not just go to the police right now? Then someone tapped on the front door and his world suddenly crumbled away beneath him. They found me. There was nothing he could do but answer it. Running would only make matters worse. Trembling, he got up, went to the door and opened it. A police officer stood under the porch light. “Mr. Halverson?” asked the grim officer. He let out a defeated sigh. “Yes. Let me —”I am terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I have some bad news. Your son’s bike was struck by a hit and run driver this evening. He died at the scene. I’m very sorry for your loss..."

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

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🗝 🔦 🗝 | ⏳ 👁 ⏳ | 🗝 🔦 🗝
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‧
ᴳᵒᵗ ᵃ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵐᵖᵉᵈ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵉˡ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵒᵗ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ⁱᵗ‧ ᴸᵃᵗᵉʳ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ʰᵉ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵘᵈᵈˡᵉᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ʳᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴾᵃ‧ "ᔆᵒⁿ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵒˡᵈ ᵇᵒᵒᵗˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ 'ᵉᵐ⸴ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ‧ ᵂᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʰⁱᵐ ʷᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᵂᵉˡˡ⸴ ᴵ ʳᵉᶜᵏᵒⁿ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴴᵉʳᵉ—" ᴹᵃ⸴ ʷⁱᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵗᵉᵃʳ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᵃᵐᵉᵈ ᵒˡᵈ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏ⸴ ʰᵃⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃⁱʳ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵗˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿ ʰᵉⁱʳˡᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴴᵉ ʷᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵖʳⁱᵈᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵐʸˢᵗᵉʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ˢʰᵃᵈᵉ‧ ᴰʳᵉˢˢⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ⁿᵉʷˡʸ ʷⁱᵈᵒʷᵉᵈ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ʰᵘᵍᵍᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵒⁿ‧ "ᴮᵒʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵗˢ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ ᵈⁱᵈ‧ ᵀᵃᵏᵉ ᶜᵃʳᵉ‧‧‧" ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵒᵒʳ ᵇᵒʸ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵐᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᶠᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᴴⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵗˢ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˡʸ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃᵘᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵉʸᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵒᵗʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵛᵉⁿᵒᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵒⁱˢᵒⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴸᵒᵈᵍᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵐᵇᵉᵈᵈᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵒᵗˢ‧
ʳ/ᵗʰʳᵉᵉˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ ᵂᵉⁱʳᵈ⁻ᴺᵉᵖʰᵉʷ “ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗʳᵃᵛᵉˡᵉʳ?” ʰᵉ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵖˡⁱᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ⸴ “ʸᵉᵃʰ‧‧‧” ᴵ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵗᵉˡˡ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵗʷᵒ ᵐᵒⁿᵗʰˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʰᵒˡᵉ ᴱᵃʳᵗʰ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵃ ⁿᵘᶜˡᵉᵃʳ ʷᵃʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ‧
Wʜᴇɴ ᴍʏ sᴏɴ ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜʏ I ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴍʏ ᴇʏᴇs ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ, I ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sʜᴏᴡ ʜɪᴍ ᴡʜʏ. As ʜᴇ ʜᴀʀᴅᴇɴᴇᴅ, I ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛᴛᴇᴅ sʜᴏᴡɪɴɢ ʜɪᴍ ᴀs I ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴛᴏ sᴛᴏɴᴇ...
💓●💜❤ӄɨʟʟɛʀ❤️💜●💓
The Portraits (a.k.a. The Cabin in the Woods) Famous Creepypasta, Locations and Sites, Nature and the Outdoors / April 20, 2009 / 1 minute of reading There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage... April 20, 2009 / Famous Creepypasta, Locations and Sites, Nature and the Outdoors / anonymously authored, cabins, camping, creepypasta classics, forests, hunters, mysteries, sites, twist endings, woods / 1 minute of reading Estimated reading time — < 1 minute There was a hunter in the woods, who, after a long day hunting, was in the middle of an immense forest. It was getting dark, and having lost his bearings, he decided to head in one direction until he was clear of the increasingly oppressive foliage. After what seemed like hours, he came across a cabin in a small clearing. Realizing how dark it had grown, he decided to see if he could stay there for the night. He approached and found the door ajar. Nobody was inside. The hunter flopped down on the single bed, deciding to explain himself to the owner in the morning. As he looked around, he was surprised to see the walls adorned by many portraits, all painted in incredible detail. Without exception, they appeared to be staring down at him, their features twisted into looks of hatred. Staring back, he grew increasingly uncomfortable. Making a concerted effort to ignore the many hateful faces, he turned to face the wall, and exhausted, he fell in to a restless sleep. Face down in an unfamiliar bed, he turned blinking in unexpected sunlight. Looking up, he discovered that the cabin had not portraits, only windows.
t̫͍̥͉̳ͅa͙̲ke̹͇͘ ͇̦̲̤͙m̠͡y̧̗̦̪̣͖̣ ͉͍̬̘͡h͔̭ͅa̹͔̯͖̯͉͔͠n̳̭̬̬̼̞̲d͔̹̰͈
Music, Arts, Crafts, Recipes and Fashion blogging from a Gothic/Dark Romantic perspective. Sunday 31 May 2015 Goth Is Not Inherently Satanic I got harrassed for being a Goth by a stranger professing the grounds of Christianity, and attempting to convert me away as reason to berate me. Yesterday, I was out busking in town, in relatively Gothic clothes, wearing my red wig, and playing my usual fare of traditional Scottish, Irish and other European folk tunes, and this middle-aged man who was clearly drunk came up to me, and started going about how I play "mystical stuff that goes back to the 12th century" (a reference to an incoherent comment he'd made about Greensleeves at me months ago; I'm surprised he'd remembered it, because I had forgotten about it) and then started going on about how I "don't have to wear black, and dye your [my] hair red" (I pointed out that I was wearing a wig, but he didn't seem to be listening) and then went on to get into my personal space and loudly and aggressively deride being a Goth as Satanic, and tell me that he's a Christian and that I should, to paraphrase him 'find my Saviour'. I tried my best to explain that Goths no religious affiliation and simply an aesthetic preference, but he kept insisting. As he later went on to inform that he'd been an alcoholic, and then "clean for 2 years" but had "done a runner three days ago", I decided that his words and actions were the product and not to take them to heart. He said he would pray for me, and I thanked him. I decided silently I would pray for him too, for that after 2 years clean and then relapsing, he finds his way back to sobriety, and get the help and support to do so, and find the inner strength too, because I know addiction is hard battle. Just as he left my Goth friends came up to me, saying they weren't sure whether to intervene, as he had harassed them too, condemning them. It was a complex situation, and even though he railed at us and condemned us, his actions were clearly a sign of his own struggles and I could not bring myself to be harsh with him, and he did give me a £5 note, so at least he was generous as well as religiously harrassing (not that giving me money ameliorates bad behaviour, and I do wonder if he thought giving me money was simply a way to get my time). I didn't know what to do about the situation; I felt cornered because busking generally means I have to stand with my back to a wall to avoid being in the way of pedestrians, and although people were walking by, nobody helped me and I could not see any security guards or police, although I did feel that they might just treat him as another obnoxious drunk, when he probably needed more nuanced help than that. This got me thinking that it is a common misconception that Goth is synonymous with Satanic, or at least that it is inherently Satanic, and I feel like it would be productive to break down that misconception. Goth is simply a subculture that is focused on having an appreciation for the morbid, dark and spooky in music, fashion, art and literature; it has no religious affiliation at all, and Goths come from all religions as well as agnostic and atheists. That is the short response, but does not really contain any nuance, not does it explain why Goths sometimes use Satanic imagery, or gives any differentiated understanding of how occult themes tie into the Gothic, and as such does little to shed light on how Goth is not Satanic even though it looks like it could be. Satanic imagery is used within the Gothic subculture for several reasons. Sometimes Satanic imagery is used for shock value, especially by those who feel constrained by a conservative cultural backdrop and wish to differentiate themselves as other, as part of something taboo, dark and frightening. Often it is teens who do this, and it is not representative of the wearer's/displayer's true religious or spiritual beliefs, but part of a more complex process of wishing to separate themselves and create their own identity. Often a passing phase - either because all interest in dark and spooky things is a passing phase, or because they mature into somebody more in the identity, rather than identifying themselves oppositionally to others. Some people carry this behaviour on adulthood, but usually a behaviour that people mature. Often, Satanic imagery used for is not used in a way that is coherent with the actual uses of those symbols within Satan or the occult, and is often mixed up with symbols from other religious and spiritual groups (I have seen symbols appropriated into this sort of shock-value pseudo-Satanism, but that is another matter.) Some Goths actually are Satanist, but they are a minority even within the Goth scene - these people will use Satanic symbols correctly, and tend not to advertise their Satanic affiliations. Most of the actual Satanists I know personally are not Goths; they tend to be more "nerdy" and less into the theatric and ostentatious aesthetics of Goth. Most of the I have met subscribe to a version of Satanist where Satan is an archetype of independence, hedonism and suchlike, rather than a deliberately Anti-Christ worship of the Devil. I have never met an actual Devil-worshipper, someone who subscribes to a Christian theology and cosmology, but looks to Heck and the Devil rather than to Heaven and Jesus - I am not saying they do not exist, just that such people must be quite rare, even amongst Gothic and Occult circles. Sometimes people mistake Neo-Pagan iconography and symbolism for Satanic imagery, for example confusion can arise over the use of pentacles and pentagrams (and their inverted variations), and this is exacerbated by the misuse of these. Neo-Paganism is a religion that has no concept of an adversarial dichotomy, with no Heck or Satan. Some people hold the belief that all things other than their specific religious path are Satanic or at least a distraction or deception from what they see as the truth, but outside of that belief structure, there is little in Neo-Paganism that could mark it as anything Satanist, any more than say, Buddhism or Hindoo; it is a completely different belief system to any of the monotheistic faiths. As Goths often have an interest in the spiritual, and are apt to look outside conventional spirituality for answers, there are quite a few Neo-Pagans within Goth, but again, not all Goths are Neo-Pagans, and not all Neo-Pagans are Goths (quite a few dress very 'mainstream' and others -a significant proportion- are more inclined towards Hippy and 'Bohemian' aesthetics.). There are some who feel badly hurt by Christianity, or who see it as a destructive force, and who use Christian symbols and anti-Christian symbols as a critique of Christianity and the power of organised religion; sometimes this falls into the territory of shock-value, and sometimes it is done with more refinement and nuance, but this is not unique to Goth, even though it does exist within the Gothic subculture, nor is it something you have to engage in as a Goth. Goths tend to be people who have been outcast by traditional community structures, and that can include the Church, and/or people who use Christianity as an excuse to harass (a bit like the man in my opening paragraphs) - as such, there are probably a greater percentage of Goths who do this than non-Goths. Personally, even as an apostate, I find this sort of thing can often be more harmful and rectionary than productive. I don't think religions should be beyond criticism or critique, but I do think that there ways to go about doing this, and there are ways that are just rude and mean, where the message is lost. There are, of course, more than these four contexts, but these are the four most common contexts and reasons for the use of Satanic imagery within the Gothic subculture. Sometimes it is used in the traditional way it was used within Gothic horror; as a symbol for various evils or villainry that a good person can come across, for example. The use of Satanic imagery is not inherent to Goth - the use of dark imagery is, but not all dark imagery has to come from the cultural/religious context of Heaven and Heck, God and the Devil - there are plenty more traditions to draw from, and a lot of Gothic imagery comes from European folk-tales, sometimes more entwined with Christianity. The imagery of death, decay, transience and similar are part of the human experience, and appear in different ways across all cultures. There is plenty of positive Christian iconography used in Goth as well - but that is a topic for different blog entry entirely (and something I would quite like to write about, and get some of my Christian Goth friends to write guest posts for, but that is for a different time). Not everything dark is Satanic even in a Christian context; the Bible is full of stories about people who had to overcome pain, suffering and violence, and the very concepts of martyrdom and Christ as crucified saviour involve death and sacrifice; not everything that is dark is inherently negative. Goths are not synonymous with Satanist, we are not a group who worship the Devil or are anti-Christian; we are diverse with diverse perspectives outside of things that are actually Goth (of which specific religious affiliation is not). There are quite a few Goths who are Christians, and there are Goths who are Jewish, Muslim, and members of other monotheistic faiths. There are even Goth priests - check out the ::Priestly Goth Blog:: for example. You cannot tell someone's religion by subcultural affiliation. Side note: if you wish to convert someone to your faith, condemning them and berating them will have the exact opposite effect; you are more likely to drive that person away from the religion you profess than convert them. The HouseCat at 07:00
– ̗̀ 𝓗𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔤𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔞 𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔢 ̖́- ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ✧
“𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓼𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓼𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓬𝓱 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓭𝓸 𝓲𝓼 𝓽𝓪𝓵𝓴 𝓽𝓸 𝓹𝓮𝓸𝓹𝓵𝓮” - 𝒯𝑒𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒫𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽𝑒𝓉𝓉
Info tips for practitioners w/ autism and/or sensitivities First, thank you for caring. Not trying to question your expertise in health. Now, Autism is a spectrum. It’s not something one can turn off. It’s not a choice. Most of us are not trying to be demanding. If any thing, we’re afraid of being seen as childish, picky, high maintenance, bossy, rude, etc. We can easily get overwhelmed. We want to compromise with you. If we ask for another nurse to do something or if we know we cannot handle a procedure without certain accommodations, it’s not personally attacking against you. You have the power to provide the care and provide us any options; individuals know their own personal tolerance and needs. We do not ever want to start arguments. We do not want to inconvenience you over something, as we do not feel entitled. Having sensitivities not by choice, as it is more than inconvenience but also painful. We always feel when you do your best. We’re both human, autistic or not. It is not a choice.
The central symptom of sleep talking is audible expression that occurs during sleep without the person being aware of it happening. It can be gibberish or resemble normal speech and consists in the unaware production of vocalisation during sleep. However, people are very rarely aware that they are talking in their sleep at the time and typically have no recollection of the episodes when they wake up. A large number of sleep speeches merely consist of short expressions of assent or negation (e.g., ‘OK’, ‘no,’ ‘good,’ ‘mm-hm,’ ‘uh-huh,’ ‘no!’ ‘stop!’ ‘don’t!’, etc.) As they experience different sensations and emotions in their dreams, it may manifest as groaning or other vocalisations. Excess mucus, combined with nose breathing and narrow airways, can lead to rattling or whistling sounds. Congestion and dry or swollen nasal membranes can clog up the works making breathing audible instead of peaceful. Sometimes it’s occasional, a gentle, perhaps even peaceful, soft whistling. Other times it sounds like a buzz saw, getting closer and closer, paused by a moment of silence, before climaxing in an even louder snort or gasp for air. And sometimes when we fall into a deep sleep, the muscles in the roof of the mouth (soft palate), tongue and throat relax. The tissues in the back of the throat can relax enough that they partially block the airway. As we inhale and exhale, these tissues rattle and vibrate, resulting in sounds in some people. The tissue vibration increases as the airway narrows, causing the snoring to grow louder and louder. As a person inhales and exhales, the moving air causes the tissue to flutter and make noise. Usually during sleep the brain becomes used to one’s own snoring (a process called habituation) As mentioned, people sometimes don’t hear themselves snore because the brain’s ability to receive sensory information is limited while we sleep. Some external stimulus may cause a person to stir, however.
r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago sp00kyscary They're just so darn cute I love being a 2nd grade teacher. The kids in my class are so cute and innocent. They're at the perfect age. I used to teach sixth grade, but I quickly realised how that it was a mistake, whence cliques form, the bullying flourishes, and kids learnt how to be terrible to each other. By then, they're corrupted by bad role models, no respect for authority and no desire to learn. No; 2nd grade children are far better! The parents are still making an attempt to shield them from the harshness of the world. They look at me with wide eyes, eager to learn, taking in all I share with them. My favourite day, is Valentine's Day. They make little paper packets they place on their desks to be filled with cards and/or candy. This year, I baked some delicious cookies at home and I arrived early to deliver one to each student. I’m so excited to see the reactions. I smile all morning. I smile as the kids arrive, dressed in red and pink. I smile as they happily tear into their construction paper holders to see what's inside. I smile as they give me an adorable thank-you once they see the cookies I've made them. I smile as they bite into them. And I smile as they one by one fall to the ground, shaking and turning blue. After all, they're at such a cute age. It would be a shame to let them grow up.
ᶜᵃʳᶜⁱⁿᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ᵍᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃⁿᶜᵉʳ⁾‧ ᶜᵃʳᵈⁱᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵈⁱˢᵉᵃˢᵉ ᵒʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜᵏˢ⁾‧ ᶜˡᵃᵘˢᵗʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ᵉⁿᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵃᶜᵉˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴹᴿᴵ ᵐᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵉˢ⁾‧ ᴴᵉᵐᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ⁾‧ ᴹʸˢᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ᵒʳ ᵍᵉʳᵐᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ᵍᵉʳᵐˢ⁾‧ ᴺᵒˢᵒᶜᵒᵐᵉᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ʰᵒˢᵖⁱᵗᵃˡˢ⁾‧ ᴺᵒˢᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ᵈⁱˢᵉᵃˢᵉ⁾‧ ᴾʰᵃʳᵐᵃᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ⁾‧ ᵀʰᵃⁿᵃᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ⁾‧ ᵀᵒᵐᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᶜᵃˡ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉᵈᵘʳᵉˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵍᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⁾‧ ᵀʳᵃᵘᵐᵃᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿʲᵘʳʸ⁾‧ ᵀʳʸᵖᵃⁿᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ ⁽ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ⁿᵉᵉᵈˡᵉˢ⁾
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‧‧‧
ʀ/TᴡᴏSᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇHᴏʀʀᴏʀ 5 ʜʀ. ᴀɢᴏ Pɪsᴛᴀᴄʜɪᴏ_Mᴜsᴛᴀʀᴅ Wʜᴇɴ I ᴀsᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴇɴɪᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴇɴᴅ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ I ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴄʀᴏᴘs ᴛᴏ ғʟᴏᴜʀɪsʜ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ Iᴛs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴀ ᴅᴀʏ ɴᴏᴡ ᴀɴᴅ I ᴄᴀɴ’ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ᴍʏ ʙᴀʙʏ ᴛᴏ ᴇᴀᴛ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ
Rowlie from on BoredPanda.com ↓ ↓ It's freezing and dark, the constant movement is making me nauseous, everything hurts, I'm lonely and scared I wish I didnt' ask for my ashes to be spread into the ocean...
ᴺᵒᵗ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ⁱˢ ᵇᵉˡⁱᵉᵛⁱⁿᵍ! ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ⁱˢ ᵃᵗ ʰᵒᵐᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ⁿᵒⁱˢᵉˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵃ ˢˡⁱᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵖⁱᶻᶻᵃ ᶠˡᵒᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁱʳ‧ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵉᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖⁱᶻᶻᵃ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ˢᶜᵒˡᵈˢ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵃᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈⁱⁿⁿᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶜˡᵉᵃⁿ ʰⁱˢ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵈʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒʷⁿᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵒʸ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ᵍʳᵃᵇˢ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ'ˢ ᴹᵒˡᵉᶜᵘˡᵉ ᴰᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗᵒʳ ᴸⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵒⁱⁿᵗˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒʸ'ˢ ʳᵉᵃˡ ᵇᵒᵈʸ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ᵈᵉˢᶜʳⁱᵇᵉˢ ᵃˢ ᵐᵒⁿˢᵗʳᵒᵘˢ‧ ᵁⁿˡⁱᵏᵉ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʰᵃˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʷᵒ ᵃʳᵐˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃⁿᵗᵉⁿⁿᵃ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗⁱᶠⁱᵉˢ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ʰᵘᵐᵃⁿ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᵒᶠ‧ ᔆᵃᵐᵐʸ ᵃˢᵏˢ ⁱᶠ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʰⁱᵐ ⁽ᵃˢ ᵃ ᵖᵉᵗ ᵖᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ⁾ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ ˢᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈ ˢᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᶻᵒᵒ⸴ ᵃˢ ʰᵘᵐᵃⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵉⁿᵈᵃⁿᵍᵉʳᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵉˢ‧‧‧ ᴬᵘᵗʰᵒʳ⁽ˢ⁾ ᴿ‧ᴸ‧ ᔆᵗⁱⁿᵉ
ᴸᵃˢᵗ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱⁿ ⁱˢ ᵃ ʳᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ‧‧‧ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ! ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᴹᵃᵃˢ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁱᶜᵘˡᵃʳˡʸ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱᵈᵉᵃ ᵒᶠ ˢʷⁱᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ‧ ᴴᵒʷᵉᵛᵉʳ⸴ ʰᵉʳ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ˢⁱᵍⁿᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵘᵖ ᶠᵒʳ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᴸᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁱˢ ˡᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵃ ˡᵃᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒᶜᵘˢᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ⁻ᵇᵃˢᵉᵈ ˢᵖᵒʳᵗˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᴸⁱᶻ⸴ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ ᶜᵒᵘⁿˢᵉˡᵒʳˢ‧ ᴸⁱᶻ ˢʰᵃʳᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ'ˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐᵒˢᵗ ⁱᵐᵖᵒʳᵗᵃⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ ⁱˢ ᵗʰᵉ "ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ ˢʸˢᵗᵉᵐ" ᵃˢ ⁿᵒ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵉⁿᵗᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʷᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ᶜᵃⁿᵒᵉⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴬᶜᶜᵒʳᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ'ˢ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ "ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ" ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃˢᵏˢ ᴶᵃⁿ ⁱᶠ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁿᵉʳˢ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴶᵃⁿ ᵈᵉᶜˡⁱⁿᵉˢ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ᴸⁱᶻ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴸⁱᶻ ᶠᵒʳᶜᵉˢ ᴶᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵃʳᵗⁿᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵒᵉⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒˢᵉ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵒᵉ‧ ᴶᵃⁿ ʲᵘᵐᵖˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʷⁱᵐˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴶᵃⁿ'ˢ ʲᵘᵐᵖ ᶠˡⁱᵖˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵒᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᴶᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʳᵉ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᶠˡⁱᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ˢʷⁱᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳʷᵃᵗᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵇᵒᵈʸ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉˢᶜᵘᵉ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵘʳᶠᵃᶜᵉˢ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵛᵃⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵇᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵍᵘⁿ ˢⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵍⁱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷˢ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ˢⁱⁿᵍⁱⁿᵍ ᵘⁿᵗⁱˡ ˢʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵃ ᵍⁱʳˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉˢ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃˢ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʷᵃⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵃˢᵏˢ ⁱᶠ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ᶠˡᵒᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃˢˢᵘᵐᵉˢ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵈʳᵒʷⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᴸᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʳᵉᶠᵘˢᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ'ˢ ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵘⁿˢ ᵃʷᵃʸ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ'ˢ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶠᵃᵈᵉˢ‧‧‧ ᴱᵛᵉʳʸᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ ᴸᵃᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱˢ ᵖʳᵉᵖᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʲᵒⁱⁿ ᵃ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ ᵐᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˢᵉᵃᵗ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᵖʳᵒᵐᵖᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿˢᵉˡᵒʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘⁿˢᵉˡᵒʳˢ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵃᵇⁱⁿ⸴ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵘⁿᵏ⁻ᵐᵃᵗᵉˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃᵖᵒˡᵒᵍⁱᶻᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵗʳᵉᵃᵗᵐᵉⁿᵗ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵘʳ ᵍⁱʳˡˢ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶠᵉʷ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵘⁿ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᵍᵒ ˢʷⁱᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴸⁱᶻ ˢᵘᵖᵉʳᵛⁱˢᵉˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵃᵗᵒᵖ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵗᵒʳᵇᵒᵃᵗ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ˢʷⁱᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍˢⁱᵈᵉ ᴶᵃⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡ ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ⁱˢ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃᵗᶜʰ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ⸴ ˢᵒ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˢʷⁱᵐˢ ᵗᵒ ᴸⁱᶻ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵗᵒʳᵇᵒᵃᵗ‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵛᵃⁿⁱˢʰᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱˢ ʳᵉᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴸⁱᶻ‧ ᵂᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᴸⁱᶻ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵗᵒ ᴿⁱᶜʰᵃʳᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿˢᵉˡᵒʳ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵐᵉᵉᵗˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᴿⁱᶜʰᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᵃˢᵏˢ ʰⁱᵐ ⁱᶠ ᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳ ʰᵃˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈʳᵒʷⁿᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵖ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ᴸᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᴿⁱᶜʰᵃʳᵈ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁿᵒ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ʰᵃᵛᵉ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴿⁱᶜʰᵃʳᵈ ⁱˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᴸᵃᵗᵉʳ⸴ ᴸⁱᶻ ᵗᵉᵃᶜʰᵉˢ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʰᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ⁻ˢᵏⁱ‧ ᴬˢ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱˢ ʷᵃᵗᵉʳ⁻ˢᵏⁱⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵃᵗ'ˢ ᵗᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ⁱˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵛᵉʰⁱᶜˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˡᵉᵗˢ ᵍᵒ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒʷ⁻ʳᵒᵖᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ˢⁱⁿᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ ʰᵉˡᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵇʸ ʰᵉʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʲᵃᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵗ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵃᵗ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ʳⁱᵖˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ'ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ʲᵃᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ⁱᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ˢʰᵒʳᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʳᵘⁿˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ‧ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵃˢᵏˢ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱᶠ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳˢ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵛᵉˡʸ‧ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ʷⁱˢʰᵉˢ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ˡᵘᶜᵏ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ⁱˢ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ʷᵃʸ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵐᵉᵗ ᵇʸ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʰᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ‧ ᴼⁿᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ˢⁿᵘᶜᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ ᵇʸ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ‧ ᴬᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵈᵉᵃᵈˡʸ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉˢ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᶜᵃʳᵉ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵇᵉ ˡᵘʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒᵒᵈˢ‧ ᴬ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ᶜᵒⁱˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ'ˢ ˡᵉᵍ‧ ᴮᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵃᵗᵗᵃᶜᵏ⸴ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵐᵒᵛᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ‧ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵉˣᵖˡᵃⁱⁿˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ʰᵃᵈ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏ ʰᵉʳ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵉᵛⁱᵒᵘˢ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵉʳ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᶜᵃᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵃᵍʳᵉᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵇᵘᵈᵈⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ʷᵃⁱˡˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈⁱˢᵃᵖᵖᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ‧ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘᵍ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ᵃʳᵐˢ ᵖᵃˢˢ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍⁱʳˡ‧ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ ʰᵃᵈ ˢᵘᶜᶜᵉˢˢᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵗʳⁱᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵃˢᵗ ˢᵘᵐᵐᵉʳ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉᶠᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᴰᵉˡˡᵃ'ˢ ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ‧ ᴮʳⁱᵃⁿᵃ ᵇᵉᵍⁱⁿˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˢⁿᵃᵏᵉ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵃˢᵏˢ ⁱᶠ ᔆᵃʳᵃʰ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵘᵈᵈʸ ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴬᵘᵗʰᵒʳ⁽ˢ⁾ ᴿ‧ᴸ‧ ᔆᵗⁱⁿᵉ
Gᴏ ᴛᴏ TᴡᴏSᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇHᴏʀʀᴏʀ ʀ/TᴡᴏSᴇɴᴛᴇɴᴄᴇHᴏʀʀᴏʀ 6 ʜʀ. ᴀɢᴏ SᴜᴠᴇɴPᴀɴ I ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴡᴀs ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴅᴅ ᴏɴᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀᴍᴏɴɢ ᴍʏ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs. Eᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴇʟsᴇ's ᴘᴀʀᴀᴄʜᴜᴛᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴊᴜsᴛ ғɪɴᴇ.
🥩★彡ω1єя∂¢σяє彡★🥩
r/shortscarystories 9 yr. ago manen_lyset My sister ruined my sweet 16 My sister ruined my sweet 16 It was supposed to be my special day. Everything was going to be perfect. I'd even gotten a custom made dress for the occasion. Everything was going off without a hitch, but then, my sister ruined my life. It started during the father-daughter dance. There we were, gliding across the ballroom. All eyes on me, as my beautiful gown fluttered at my feet. Suddenly, my sister started convulsing in spasm’s. Whilst everybody tried to figure out what had made the noise, the attention hog tore a hole in the side of my dress with her bare teeth. My party guests were on-edge, all because of her! She couldn't even let me have ONE single birthday to myself. She then started foaming at the mouth mumbling incoherently. By then, my friends were running scared. They shrieked in horror, the party was officially ruined, her head dropped, she went quiet and turned blue. I'm going in for surgery tomorrow to have her remains removed from my side… I've been carrying around her useless conjoint self 16 years too long..
🥀 🩸 🔪 🥀 🩸 🔪 🥀 🩸
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.
2020 Update 2012 old 2018 former rec. Ages <25 No screening Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 3 years Age 25‒29 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) , HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) or Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 3 years Age 30‒65 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) or HPV/Pap cotest every 3 years (preferred) or Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years, HPV test every 5 years, or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years Age 65 + No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal and not at high risk for cancer
‘Crying isn’t going to help’ by HonestRage I'm a murder the one who killed my wife. He's just blubbering, perhaps a way of pleading, for his life... Perhaps if he spoke to me to reason, it might've ended differently. Perhaps I might've spared instead of murder if he only could talk out of it. But that was obviously not going to happen. After all, he was only just born moments ago.
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Music, Arts, Crafts, Recipes and Fashion blogging from a Gothic/Dark Romantic perspective. Saturday 26 November 2011 Cliques, Judging and Subcultures Most goths, at some point, will have been judged for how they look. At the darkest end there are things like when people get beaten up and even killed for how they look, and at the other there's assumptions made such as "goths are rude and pretentious" etc. We don't like being judged for being goths. We shouldn't do it to other groups. Just because someone wears fashionable clothes, that doesn't make them snobby and elitist about those who don't. Just because someone wears over-sized plastic-rim glasses and plimsols does not make them vacant and pretentious. Just because someone is wearing tracksuit bottoms and hooded jumper, that does not make them rude and violent (maybe they're going to the gym!). Just because someone wears skinny jeans and has dyed black hair does not mean they are histrionic attention-seekers. Goths aren't inherently nicer than everyone, that's why I have to make this post. Really, there is no reason for me to elaborate this into a vast wall of text. Yes, there are a disproportionate amount of certain types of bad behaviour in certain groups which is why some of these stereotypes exist in the first place, but even if there are more thugs that wear tracksuit bottoms and hooded jumpers than wear designer jeans, that doesn't mean that wearing a tracksuit makes someone a thug. That same logic goes for the other things. I may not LIKE any of those other styles, and think that a lot of them look terribly hideous, but I deal with that by NOT WEARING THEM and wearing things I don't think look hideous. I do not hate other styles, although I do think they are sometimes rather amusing (like when people wear logo or slogan t-shirts and have no idea what they represent, or when they walk around with their trousers halfway down their rears) but I also realise I'm probably amusing trying to run for the bus in platform boots. Other people are entitled to the same freedom of expression as we are.
𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 ౨ৎ 1 don’t compare yourself to other people 2 repeat number 1 daily
Music, Arts, Crafts, Recipes and Fashion blogging from a Gothic/Dark Romantic perspective. Thursday 30 August 2012 Goth, Definitions and Inclusivity vs. Elitism Today I ended up in a rather involved and passionate debate over what it takes to be a Goth. The term Goth, or any other label, exists to summarise interests in terms of describing an aesthetic, a musical genre, and participation of a subculture. In terms of the word 'Goth' describing a level of participation in the subculture, to me there is a sort of Goth 'triumvirate' of aspects (I know that the word triumvirate refers usually to three leading people) - a Goth is someone that is interested in Goth music, admires the Goth aesthetic (including fashion) and has the broader mindset and lifestyle. A Goth is someone who is involved in all three aspects. Some believe that the term Goth can apply to someone who is involved in only two of the three. I know that what does and does not constitute the music, lifestyle or aesthetic is up for enough debate, let alone the level of involvement it takes to call oneself a Goth, and that each Goth probably has their own standards, but that is the definition I use. What I actually want to talk about is not so much where to draw the line, but how that line is used in the subculture. It seems that in attempts to be very inclusive of people with a variety of interests, all sorts of things that are not actually Goth, and sometimes not even alternative or dark, get lumped under the term, as do other subcultures such as Steampunk and Lolita. I have no problem with being accepting of people with interests in Goth and other subcultures, people who have hybrid subcultural affiliation, and other forms of subcultural and cultural cross-polination, but for the term Goth to remain a useful description, it needs to have some sort of definition. One does not need to say, for example "oh, Gothic Lolita is Goth" or some such in order to socially accept Gothic Lolitas. All that does is muddy the waters and make it more difficult for people to communicate their actual interest - the proliferation of terms has coincided with the proliferation of hybrid subcultures, new subcultures and , with the rise of the internet, a globally connected alternative scene where people want to communicate with and connect to people with similar interests. If the term 'Goth' becomes too broad, it stops signifying a reasonable amount of potential interests and becomes vague. The biggest issue, though, is the imaginary correlation between Goth-ness and acceptance, and a concept that how Goth someone is equates to how cool, or how pretty, or how interesting, or how nice they are as a person or a whole load of other equally unrelated assumptions and non-existent relationships between terms. If you accept or reject people purely on how close they stick to a label, then you are probably a very shallow person indeed - people are a lot more than the sum of their music collection, clothes and interests. There is nothing wrong with being a metalhead that likes Goth fashion, or a Gothic Lolita that likes Goth music, and just using terms like those to describe it should not mean a lack of acceptance by the groups involved, but sadly it seems that some people feel that unless they are 'true Goths' they can't have acceptance, and equally, there are people who would have Goth as an isolated subculture exclusively for participation in by those who are, to them, 'true Goths'. Surely we should be open-minded and accepting enough for it not to matter how Goth someone is? There seems to be a confusion between the exclusivity inherent in a term that describe something - as for a term to be a valid description a word does have to exclude certain things, for example the word purple does not mean pink, red or blue, it only means purple; pink and, red and blue not being purple doesn't make those other colours any less colourful, it just makes them not purple - and a sense of exclusivity in terms of a closed club for only certain people. People should be able to freely participate in the subculture at any level they choose, from an interest in only certain aspects of it, to living as a Goth for all 24 hours of every day, all seven days of every week and all 365 (or 366) days of every year, and do so without judgement. It is far more important for people to be true to themselves than it is for them to adhere to a label. Goth is not an exclusive club or a clique; it is a descriptive term; there is no value judgement to it. It is open to participation by anybody interested, and people can participate at a variety of different levels and contribute in a variety of ways. Acceptance of non-Goths with an interest in the subculture should not be a case of "You're not goth enough, but I still like you" as if whether or not liking someone has ANY RELEVANCE to how much they participate in the subculture, on what level, and in what manner. Those things ARE NOT RELATED, or at least should not be. It is creating some kind of relationship between acceptance and aesthetic/musical preference/lifestyle that I see as the problem. You can like someone who does not have all the exact same interests as you do, and you can despise someone who does - there are certainly people who share a huge amount of common interests with, but whom I cannot stand (and sometimes wish I could hit over the head with a sturdy cane...). If it was not for the term 'Goth' being used for the purposes of creating social boundaries, we'd be discussing what musical techniques define the sound in musical terms, or what artistic movements have contributed and how the visual aesthetic can be described, or some such instead of discussing elitism and exclusivity. To me, Goth is something akin to Romanticism; a creative movement, something defined by a musical and visual aesthetic and way of looking at the world, and therefore, ultimately something like Romanticism or Impressionism. Nobody argues over whether the definitions of either are elitist (or at least not anywhere I come across) because as historical movements of times past, the terms mean little in terms of social inclusion or acceptance in the present day (says someone who calls herself a latter-day Romantic) and thus people feel much freer to define them by specific aesthetic, musical, literary and philosophical styles and differences. It is time that elitism within Goth dissipates, and that people feel free to clear about their interests, and to admit their extra-subcultural interests, or a desire not partake in certain aspects, without people judging them as somehow lesser for not being Goth enough. Such shallowness breeds a feeling that it is somehow not right to explore or other paths, or to admit that for example, one likes the fashion but not the music. There is nothing inherently wrong in liking Goth fashion but preferring say, folk music. It might not be Goth music, but if the person is happy listening to it, then there is no issue. There is far more of an issue when people force themselves to adhere to a certain subculture against their own preferences in order to feel accepted. The HouseCat at 11:49
6:57 AM 𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 : At the end of the day it all depends on you, so why you still blaming every negative outcome on other people? Stop putting so much effort in negative thoughts and start doing something productive.
I Want to Help It was a beautiful morning when I woke up, the sun shining through and the wildlife up and about. I went for my morning stroll, taking my usual route. I stopped by the surface of the water, when I saw the most peculiar thing: a little girl… In there. Couldn’t she breathe? Why didn’t she come out? Panicking, I reached out and grabbed her arms, yanking her out of it and holding her close to me. She started to scream, but then seemed to be choking. I tried to calm her down. “Shh… Everything is fine, little one, I saved you! Relax! Breathe in!” But she wouldn’t. And soon, despite all my efforts, she went limp. Not again! I couldn’t understand. I had taken her out of that horrible, disgusting air, and into the safety of the water. What had I done wrong this time? Maybe my tentacles frighten them. Maybe I wasn’t gentle enough. Human children are so unpredictable. I’ll save one for real next time, I swear.
🇺🇸 https://s1.sos.mo.gov/records/archives/archivesdb/BirthDeath/Default.aspx#searchDB 🇺🇸
My family Story by Pansyk I died eight years ago. It wasn’t particularly tragic. Or unusual. Just a car accident. I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wife was in labor, and there was black ice on the road. He lost control of the car and I lost my life. It's not his fault. I know that. I’m not cruel. I am not vengeful. If anything, I’m the opposite.. ↓Keep reading ↓ 31ST OCT 2020 u/Pansyk I don’t blame the man who hit me. He was speeding because his wi҉fé was in labour, and lost control of the car and I lost my lįfe. It's not his fault. I am not vengeful. I’m the opposite. You see, I don’t have any family left and I had lost my few friends around that time. When it was time for my funeral, the only people who came was my boss and the family of the man who kılled me. The wi҉fé held her newborn daughter Lily close to her. I hated my boss, and the cemetery was awfully lonely, so I followed the family home. Lily may as well have been my own flesh and bľood. She was sweet, and bright, and oh so very small. She had trouble sleeping if someone wasn’t rocking her crib and her parents were so tired. After they put her to bed, it was easy for me to rock her crib for her. I didn’t get tired. I could help her. As the years passed, Jack and Lori realised that they weren’t alone in the house. It didn’t take long from there to make a connection between my funeral and when I had showed up. And I’d never been malevolent, so they weren’t afraid or angry. They started to burn candles on the anniversary of my dEath day. They left an empty chair for meals and holidays. I really felt like… A member of the family. Someone is trying to force the door. Its Lori’s ex. He’s obsessive. He’s angry. He’s going to hur͘t the family. My family. The thing about ghosts, is that the more offerings you get, the stronger you become. Id been enjoying candles, trinkets, and even the occasional food item for the past five years. I was strong from that. The kn1fe feels warm in my hand. A shock of heat against the ice of my skin. Lori, Jack, and Lily are my family. I care about them. And they’re not gonna join me yet.
Giggles Chuck climbed out of the bed and made his way to the bathroom, refusing to turn on the bedside lamp in case he disturbed his wife whom was låyīng beside him. Finishing his busıness, he made his way to the sink, and just as he began to run the water, thought he heard a faint laughter coming from the bedroom. “Honey? Was that you?” He listened carefully, but there was no reply from that dark doorway. Chuck turned back to the sink and continued to wash his hands, certain that it was just his half-asleep brain playing tricks. However, moments later, he once again thought he could hear a faint laughter from the bedroom. He turned off the water, and began to make his way back into the bedroom. The light was off, and in the bed, he could make out the shape of his wife låyīng there. “Honey? Were you laughing?” Chuck flicked on the bedside lamp, and in an instant was looking into the unblinking đeađ eyes of his wife, her mouth sliced from ear-to-ear in a grotesque mockery of a smıle. Chuck felt his heart freeze, before relief washed over him. “Oh, it WAS you!” he exclaimed with a smıle as he peeled back the ̛ bed sheets, stıll stiff from the long dried błoođ, and climbed back into ̛ bed, kissing his wife’s cold cheek before turning out the light. “For a moment there, I thought I was going cRaZy.”
Research and ask questions: Educate yourself about potential conditions and treatments, and don’t be afraid to ask your healthcare providers detailed questions about their assessments and the reasons behind them.
AGE APPELLATIVE 10-19: denarian 20-29: vicenarian 30-39: tricenarian 40-49: quadragenarian 50-59: quinquagenarian 60-69: sexagenarian 70-79: septuagenarian 80-89: octogenarian 90-99: nonagenarian 100-109: centenarian 110-119: centeni denarian 120-129: centeni vicenarian 130-139: centeni tricenarian 140-149: centeni quadragenarian 150-159: centeni quinquagenarian 160-169: centeni sexagenarian 170-179: centeni septuagenarian 180-189: centeni octogenarian 190-199: centeni nonagenarian 200-209: ducenarian 210-219: duceni denarian 220-229: duceni tricenarian 230-239: duceni tricenarian 240-249: duceni quadragenarian 250-259: duceni quinquagenarian 260-269: duceni sexagenarian 270-279: duceni septuagenarian 280-289: duceni octogenarian 290-299: duceni nonagenarian 300-309: trecenarian 310 - 319: treceni denarian ... 400-409: quadringenarian 410-419: quadringeni denarian ... 500-509: quingenarian ... 600-609: sescenarian ... 700-709: septingenarian ... 800-809: octingenarian ... 900-909: nongenarian ... 980-989: nongeni octogenarian 990-999: nongeni nonagenarian 1000-1009: millenarian
→ ιƒ 10 ρєσρℓє ¢αяє 4 υ, σηє σƒ тнєм ιѕ мє, ιƒ 1 ρєяѕση ¢αяєѕ 4 υ тнαт ωσυℓ∂ вє мє αgαιη, ιƒ ησ 1 ¢αяєѕ 4 υ тнαт мєαηѕ ι м ησт ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂. → ιƒ ι нα∂ σηє ℓαѕт ωιѕн вєƒσяє ι ∂ιє … му ℓαѕт ωιѕн ωσυℓ∂ вє тнαт , уσυ ωιℓℓ ηєνєя ¢яу → тяυє ¢αяє ωιℓℓ ηєνєя gσ υηяє¢σgηιzє∂, тнσυgн σηє σƒтєη мαкєѕ мιѕтαкєѕ ιη ναℓυιηg ιт, вυт σηє ωιℓℓ ∂єƒιηιтℓу υη∂єяѕтαη∂ ση¢є ωнєη тнєу ѕтαят мιѕѕιηg ιт. → мαη тσ gσ∂: “ρℓєαѕє gινє мє єνєяутнιηg ѕσ тнαт ι ¢αη єηנσу ℓιƒє…” gσ∂ ѕмιℓє∂ αη∂ яєρℓιє∂: “ι нανє gινєη уσυ ℓιƒє тσ єηנσу єνєяутнιηg…” → ι ωιѕн αη αηgєℓ σƒ мєя¢у αℓωαуѕ ѕιтѕ ηєχт тσ уσυ &αмρ; ¢σνєяѕ уσυ ωιтн gєηтℓє ωιηgѕ ѕσ тнαт, уσυ ωαℓк ωяαρρє∂ ιη αℓℓαн’ѕ gяα¢є, ρяσтє¢тє∂ &αмρ; ρєα¢єƒυℓ ƒσяєνєя → ℓιƒє ιѕ ℓιкє α мιяяσя. ιƒ уσυ ƒяσωη αт ιт, ιт ƒяσωηѕ вα¢к. ιƒ уσυ ѕмιℓє αт ιт, ιт яєтυяηѕ тнє gяєєтιηg.
https://creepyspooketty.fan dom.com/wiki/Rules

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

r/shortscarystories 5 days ago DottedWriter My Former Highschool Bully Apologized To Me Today I stared at her as she sobbed on her knees "Alice, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry for everything! I'm sorry for every horrible thing I've done to you!" Sophia said as she wept in front of me. I just stared at her as she continued to sob over all of the things she had done to me. She would directly insult or make demeaning JOKeS about me, spread n͟asty rumours about me, manipulate my friends against me, şteal a guy I had a crush on, make horrible posts about me on social media, and even manipulate some guys into doing things like jum͜ping̨ me. She did everything if it meant I suffered in the end. I tried to tell my teachers about this, but they just turned a deaf ear, and I didn’t even bother talking to my parents about it, they were more focussed on their jobs than me. And even then, if Sophia found out I snitched, that would result in an extra beating from her and her cronies. She was behind all of my sufferıng, enjoyed the despair on my face, she enjoyed how much ab*se she inflected on me. So you could only imagine my surprise when she approached me one day and started to apologise tearfully to me As she continued to cry, my eyes started to spark with anger, anger that I had suppressed inside me for the past 5 years after highschool . I had no one to turn to for support, absolutely no one. And she dared to spew her little crocodile tears right in front of me. I had enough of it. I floated around my grave until I was behind her, I stared at her for a long minute, before I plunged my hand into her chest. She tensed up, and some of her bľood splattered onto my grave. I dug through her organs before I found what I was looking for. Her heart. It was still beating as she collapsed to the ground, her hands clutching at the wound at a desperate attempt to cover the bleeding. She coughed out błoođ, and wheezed as she continue to bleed out. I stared at how pathetic and pitiful she looked now. I stared at her as a twisted, evil, and satisfied grin crept onto my face .
The Lights When I was young, I used to sleep in my mother's bed a lot due to the nightmares I frequently had as a kid. I could always find peace under the covers of my mom's bed but I now realize the actual comfort had come from the lights. Though still foggy in my memory, there had always been a pair of two lights somewhere near the ceiling of my moms room; I never thought much of them, at least nothing bad of course, they were comforting, soothing, warm. I began depending on these lights, so much that when there didn't show (only on rare occasions), I couldn't help feeling distraught and never got a good sleep. I never investigated the lights, perhaps if I had I wouldn't be in the situation I am now. Eventually I got older and gradually stopped sleeping in my mom's room. The nightmares stopped and I had relatively forgotten about the lights, until last night. Stumbling to bed around midnight after a long night of studies, I couldn't wait to just hit the bed and sleep; I didn't get much, after all. Tormented by visions I hadn't had in a long time left me paralyzed and covered in sweat when I awoke. Somewhat relieved to be back to my world I was confronted with with a fond memory brought up through a familiar feeling. It took a few moments to notice the two solid lights and by now my eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness. Adrenaline surged through my body as I gripped the sides of my bed. As my eyes adjusted, I noticed something I hadn't through the foggy memories. They weren't lights; they were glowing red eyes. I began to wonder if this was another part of a nightmare, It had to be. Deep down I knew it wasn't, this was all too real. Through lost hope and fear for the unknown a grabbed the closest thing i could, a gift from my mother on my birthday a few years ago, a snow globe from our Denver ski trip. Playing baseball at school I developed a pretty efficient throwing arm. Launching it across the room with my pitching arm the eyes went dark followed by a thump on the floor in front of my bed. Turning on the lights left a pang of guilt in my stomach, why was that so easy. Seeing the creature for the first time up close and knowing it had been around here since I was a kid brought bile up my throat. Its limbs were half as thick than an average humans and where it's skin should have been was a substance unknown to me, dark and leathery but looked as though you could stick your hand right through it, recently punctured with shards of glass. What happened next led me to believe the theory I came up with, as soon as I turned on the lights, was true. This creature wasn't my enemy; nor was it just a neutral visitor. That's when it began, the trampling creaks on the stairs, windows smashing, and above all the worst part was the grotesque shrieks and howls. I knew what I had done tonight was the worst and probably last mistake of my life. Somewhere down the hall my sister screamed. The creature, the one I had killed, had been my protection.
Mothers Illness My mother had fallen ill. She had what my dad did, at least thats what it looked like Everyone cried. I asked if we could take her to the doctor, but we cant afford it My older sister took time off college to take care of her, but we knew how it would end Mother would die like father did Two months later she did After the funeral the cops started to snooping around They questioned me first; they wanted to know what l knew: They threatened me, saying I could be charged as an adult because I was almost seventeen. I cried and said I loved my parents They took my finger prints and let me go. My sister was next They never let her go. They said she poisoned my parents for the life insurance policy she took out on them. My three younger siblings and i couldnt believe it My sister never admitted to the crime, but everyone said she was guilty. That is what it looked like. • The hardest part of it all was getting my sisters figure prints on the poison. Faking her identity to take out the insurance policies was easy Soon Id be going to a new home, with new parents. Its time to start planning my next game.
WIFE "Honey, I'm home!" I yelled, seeing my wife sitting at the dinner table already. "Nice to see you." her voice shook, a plastic smile stuck on her face. "It was a long day at work. Hey, do you mind maybe checking out upstairs? I saw your clothes strewn around...' I shrug, and start to eat dinner. "Of course!" A fuller, bigger smile. She races upstairs, and I continue eating. escarysories It's been quite a while, does it really take that long to put away clothes? So I tiptoe upstairs, and hear panicked whispering. *9111 Yes okay, this man thinks I'm his wife and.. ohmygod he's coming! My address j.* "What's going on, honey?" She screams as I impale the knife into her chest.
8 ᗰᗴᑎᎢᗩし ᕼᗴᗩしᎢᕼ ᖇᗴᗰᏆᑎᗞᗴᖇᔑ Author's 𓂀𝕰𝖑𝖎𝖏𝖆𝖍𖣲̸☘♕ :zap: 11/05/21 ๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۩ - ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۞๑ 1. џɵự'ɾɛ ʂʈɨƚƚ ʋɑƚựɑɓƚɛ, ɛʋɛɲ ɨʄ џɵự ʂʈɾựɠɠƚɛ ʈɵ ɠɛʈ ɵựʈ ɵʄ ɓɛƋ ɨɲ ʈɦɛ ɱɵɾɲɨɲɠ. ☆.。.:* - *:.。.☆ 2. џɵự Ƌɛʂɛɾʋɛ ʈɵ ɾɛɕɛɨʋɛ ƚɵʋɛ ɨɲ ɨʈʂ ʄựƚƚɛʂʈ Ƌɨʋɨɲɨʈџ, Ƌɛʂϼɨʈɛ џɵự ɱɛɲʈɑƚ ɦɛɑƚʈɦ ʂʈɑʈựʂ. ☆.。.:* - *:.。.☆ 3. џɵự ƙɛɛϼ ɠɵɨɲɠ, ɛɑɕɦ ʈɨɱɛ,Ƌɛʂϼɨʈɛ ʈɦɛ ɕɦɑƚƚɛɲɠɛʂ џɵự ʄɑɕɛ ɑɲƋ ʈɦɨʂ Ƌɛʂɛɾʋɛʂ џɵựɾ ɑɕƙɲɵϣƚɛƋɠɛɱɛɲʈ ɑɲƋ ϼɾɑɨʂɛ. ☆.。.:* - *:.。.☆ 4. џɵự ʂựɾʋɨʋɛƋ ʈɦɛ Ƌɑɾƙɛʂʈ ϼɛɾɨɵƋʂ ɨɲ ƚɨʄɛ, Ƌɵɲ'ʈ ʂɦџ ɑϣɑџ ʄɾɵɱ ʈɦɛ ɵϼϼɵɾʈựɲɨʈџɓʈɵ ʄɨɲɑƚƚџ ɛӝϼɛɾɨɛɲɕɛ ʈɦɛ ƚɨɠɦʈ. ☆.。.:* - *:.。.☆ 5. џɵự ɑɾɛ ϣɵɾʈɦ ʈɦɛ "ɓựɾƋɛɲ" ɑɲƋ ʈɦɛ ƋɛƋɨɕɑʈɨɵɲ ɵʄ ʈɨɱɛ ʈɦɑʈ ɨʂ ɾɛɋựɨɾɛƋ ʈɵ ɦɛƚϼ џɵự ɾɛɕɵʋɛɾ. ☆.。.:* - *:.。.☆ 6. џɵự ɑɾɛ ƚɵʋɛƋ. џɵự ɑɾɛ ƚɵʋɛƋ Ƌựɾɨɲɠ ʈɦɛ ɠɵɵƋ Ƌɑџʂ, ϣɦɛɲ ʈɦɛ ϣɑɾɱʈɦ ʄɾɵɱ ʈɦɛ ʂựɲ ʈɵựɕɦɛʂ џɵựɾ ʂƙɨɲ, ɾɛɱɨɲƋɨɲɠ џɵự ϣɦџ ɨʈ'ʂ ɛʂʂɛɲʈɨɑƚ ʈɵ ɓɛ ϼɾɛʂɛɲʈ, ʈɵ ʈɦɛ ƚɵɲɠ ɲɨɠɦʈʂ, ϣɦɛɾɛ ʂƚɛɛϼ ʄɑɨƚʂ ʈɵ ɑɾɾɨʋɛ, ƚɛɑʋɨɲɠ џɵự ɕɵɲʂựɱɛ ϣɨʈɦ ɑɲӝɨɛʈџ, ƚɵɲɛƚɨɲɛʂʂ, ɵʋɛɾʈɦɨɲɠƙɨɲɠ ɑɲƋ ʄɛɑɾ. ɾɛɠɑɾƋƚɛʂʂ ɵʄ ϣɦɑʈ ɱɑџ ɕɵɱɛ, ɑƚϣɑџʂ ɾɛɱɛɱɓɛɾ, ʈɦɑʈ џɵự ɑɾɛ ƚɵʋɛƋ. ☆.。.:* - *:.。.☆ 7. џɵự ɑɾɛ ɲɵʈ ɑ ʄɑɨƚựɾɛ, ϳựʂʈ ɓɛɕɑựʂɛ џɵự'ɾɛ ʄɨɲƋɨɲɠ ɨʈ Ƌɨʄʄɨɕựƚʈ ʈɵ ɓɛ ϼɾɵƋựɕʈɨʋɛ. џɵự ϣɨƚƚ ɑƚϣɑџʂ ɦɑʋɛ ʈɦɛ ɕɦɑɲɕɛ ʈɵɕɑʈɕɦ ựϼ ɑɲƋ ʈɾџ ɑɠɑɨɲ. ɓựʈ ʄɵɾ ɲɵϣ ʈɑƙɛ џɵựɾ ʈɨɱɛ. ☆.。.:* - *:.。.☆ 8. ʂʈɵϼ ɑɓɑɲƋɵɲɨɲɠ џɵựɾʂɛƚʄ. ๑۞๑,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۩ - ๑۩ ,¸¸,ø¤º°`°๑۞๑
Straighten out Stand with your back pressed against the wall and place your feet 30cm apart and 10cm away from the wall. Sink down Slowly bend your knee(s) and slide down the wall by 45cm, making sure your-middle back is touching the wall. Push back up Return to the start; keep your lower back on the wall as long as possible. Walk away with your head held high. And it can be as simple as lying on the floor with your knee(s) bent, using two or three books as a headrest (staying in this position for 10 minutes can rid you of shoulder cramps,) or rolling your head(s) forward to improve your posture. Inch your way to success.
AGES 2020 Update 2012 old 2018 former rec. Under 25 No screening Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 3 years Age 25‒29 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) , HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) or Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 3 years Age 30‒65 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) or HPV/Pap cotest every 3 years (preferred) or Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Pap test every 3 years, HPV test every 5 years, or HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years Over 65 + No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal No screening if a series of prior tests were normal and not at high risk for cancer
Do need the pap smear test if a virg!n and/or not s*xual active? You may not necessarily require, unless... You want to plan on having offspring To check for as*ault (such as ab*se) A family relation has had female reproductive cancer if contemplating feticidal abort1on If getting some reproductive apparatus if any of the above applies to you, the circumstances might be different regarding whether or not you as a virg!n should get one if you're not active The pap smear test only checks for cancers caused by the hpv transmitted virus which is transmitted vía such contact If you're not virg!n you may have hpv (said cancer causing virus, which the pap checks you for) dormant in your system
r/TwoSentenceHorror 8 mo. ago homestarmy_recruiter "Turn back," I begged my friend as he drove, sirens wailing in the background. He seemed desperate not to, at first, but after I got one of his earplugs out, he agreed that their voices were too beautiful to ignore.
A White Lie I'm the last one here. Those things have killed everyone else. Those things with the huge wings, with the beady eyes, with the sharp claws....every time I close my eyes see my coworkers being ripped apart. A few of us made it to the building here, but even here we aren't safe. I watched them get picked off one by one, screaming as they fought against death. I tried to stop it I swear I did I tried... Now I'm running through the building to the main power center. With no one else to ask, I'm tasked with pressing one of these buttons. Either will press the red button, or the green button. Supposedly, one button will turn the power doors back on, protecting us from whatever that shrieking, hungry, and angry...thing is outside. That's the red button. The other button is green and opens the opposite side power door, and I can only imagine what might be out there. Why had I agreed to come and research in this lab? I think as I run, hearing the screeches behind me. Oh .... Why did I lie on my application? Why didn't I admit I was color blind?
I was starving and lost in the woods until I found a hiker; I'm full now but I just wished she hadn���t screamed so loud.
Not only have we implanted a lifetime of human memories into this rat but we can now monitor what it's thinking. It appears to think it's reading the second line of a two sentence story on-line right now..
r/shortscarystories 23 hr. ago captain-howdy2323 Unknown Stranger Oh my! I can hear him moving around down stairs. Can I remember if I heard him come inside? Idk. I must have because I've armed myself. I cower away in this closet. But I can't remember any of that. I must be in shock. Oh my heart is racing. I hear him coming up the stairs. It won't be long until he finds me. I can already see what everyone will be saying. "Man found in house", "The bloodbath". He's right outside the room. I'm breathing so heavily. I'm sure he can hear me. Please, stop shaking. Please, nerves calm down. He's opening the door. This is it. Finally. I've been waiting in his closet for hours.
Like this is you have a bf/gf/crush <3 February 12th, 2014, 2:44 AM
Tumblr @theconcealedweapon Do you have a disabled neighbor who receives benefits because they can't work but you see them playing a sport with their child, doing yardwork, or doing other physical activity? That doesn't mean they're faking their disability. If someone can do physical exercise for an hour on a good day, that doesn't mean they can do it on command for eight hours straight then do it again the next day and the next and the next and the next. Disabled people should not have to perform their disability to your standards.
https://en.illogicopedia.org/wiki/Flipped_text
Pᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴍᴀʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇᴀsᴏɴs. Pᴇʀsᴏɴɪғɪᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ ɴᴏɴ-ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ's, ᴘᴇʀsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ, ᴇᴛᴄ. Tʜᴇʀᴇ's sᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀᴀᴛᴇ ɢᴜɪᴅᴇʟɪɴᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪɴ-ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ. Oғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ, ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ's ᴍᴇᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴄᴀʀʏ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ғʀɪɢʜᴛᴇɴɪɴɢ ᴀs ᴛᴏ ᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ. Tʀɪɢɢᴇʀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs ᴍᴀʏ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘʟᴏᴛ ᴛᴡɪsᴛ. Hᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴛɪᴘs: ~Pʀᴏғᴀɴɪᴛʏ. Cᴀɴ sᴀʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ 'ᴏʜ ᴅᴇᴀʀ' ᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ. ~Gᴏʀᴇ, ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅɪɴɢ ᴜɴɴᴇᴄᴇssᴀʀʏ ɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄ ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟ. ~Aɴɪᴍᴀʟs. Cᴀɴ ʙᴇ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ 'ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏɢ ɢʀᴏᴡʟs ᴀᴛ ᴘʀᴇsᴇɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ ɢʜᴏsᴛ' ~Sᴇʟғ ʜᴀʀᴍ, ᴇᴛᴄ. Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ, ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ sᴀᴄʀɪғɪᴄᴇ ᴏɴᴇsᴇʟғ. ~Aʙᴜsᴇ (ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴇxᴘʟᴏɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴍᴀʀʀɪᴀɢᴇ) ᴀʟᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴀʙᴅᴜᴄᴛ, ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴ, ᴇᴛᴄ. ~Sᴛᴇʀᴇᴏᴛʏᴘɪɴɢ ɢʀᴏᴜᴘs (ᴘᴏʀᴛʀᴀʏɪɴɢ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴ ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀɪᴛɪᴇs, ʀᴇʟɪɢɪᴏɴs, ᴄᴜʟᴛᴜʀᴇs, ᴇᴛᴄ. ᴀs ᴅɪsʀᴇsᴘᴇᴄᴛғᴜʟ) Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴜsᴇ (ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅɪsᴄʀᴇᴛɪᴏɴ) ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏᴠᴇʀsɪᴀʟ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs (ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛɪᴏɴ, ғᴏᴇᴛɪᴄɪᴅᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴇғғᴇᴄᴛ, ᴇᴛᴄ.) ʟɪɢʜᴛʟʏ. Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs (ᴄᴀɴɴɪʙᴀʟ, ʙᴀʙʏ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴs, ᴀᴘᴏᴄᴀʟʏᴘsᴇ, ᴇᴛᴄ.) ɪɴ sᴛᴏʀʏ ɪɴsᴏғᴀʀ ᴀs ɪᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴛᴀɪɴs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏ ɢʟᴏʀɪғʏɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴀᴜᴍᴀ. Yᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɴᴀʀʀᴀᴛᴏʀ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɪɴ, ᴠɪᴄᴛɪᴍ, ᴏʀ ʙʏsᴛᴀɴᴅᴇʀ. Hᴀᴠᴇ ғᴜɴ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ, ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴs!

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

I destroy the monsters you don’t ever want to know about. by KMApok 'Why is there bad in the world?' It’s a common question, but it is misplaced. Light and dark. Without one, the other cannot exist. I roam the Earth, disposing of the bad wherever I find it. I destroy the ones you don’t even want to know about. I eliminate them completely so you can sleep at night. You people have no idea how many of you live because of the suffocating work I do. 'What about criminals, Mussolini, Adolph...' Well, those are the 'minor' ones I had to let live. For balance. The ones I suffocatingly destroy are too horrible and vile to even speak of... You see, I would wager you never have heard of me, specifically in any religious texts. Still I bet you have known of me. Some, for example, have their own name for me: SID's short for what you might call Sudden Infant Death Syndrome..
weirdcore: 😵‍💫🤡💀👾🦷🫀🫁🧠🐱🍄🌻🌞🌚🥓🥩🍖🦴🎪♟🗿🏤💽📼📷🎥☎️📺🕰💡🕯⛓🔪🚬⚰️🪦🏺🧿💊💉🩸🧸🖼💌📅✂️🖍🔆🃏 kidcore: 😋😛🤪🤩🤡👽👾👑🦄✨🌈🍉🍓🍒🍟🍨🧁🍭🍬🍫🍩🍪🍼🧃⚽️🛼🎪🧩☎️⏰🔮🧸🎁🪄📚🧮🖍💘🃏 altcore: 🤬👿💀🦇🕷🕸🍮🥛☕️🎲💻⛓💣🔪🚬⚰️🪦📰📓🖋🖤💔🔞👁‍🗨🏴‍☠️🏁 clowncore: 🤡👑🦄🌺🌈🍭🍬🍼🎪🎭🎨🎬🎡🎢🎠🎀💓 traumacore: 🤬🥴🤮🤧🤕👊💋🩲👙🩱🌈💦🍌🍒🍑🍆🥒🥩🍖🦴🍦🧁🍰🍭🍩🍪🥛🧃🩰🚔🎠🏚🏩💒🌠🎇🎆💻📸☎️📺⏰🕯⛓🔫🧨🪓🔪🚬⚰️🪦🏺🩹💊💉🩸🧬🌡🛁🛏🧸🛍🎀🪄💌📆📚📎✂️🖍❤️‍🩹✝️💬🗯
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😵‍💫 💥 😵‍💫 💥 😵‍💫 💥 😵‍💫 💥
Types of -Cide For Your Writing Suıcıde - Act of kılling yourself Regicide - Act of kılling a king or queen Vaticide - Act of kılling a prophet Parricide - Act of kılling any relative Mariticide - Act of kılling your husband Uxoricide - Act of kılling your wi҉fé Siblicide - Act of kılling your sibling Sororicide - Act of kılling your sister Fratricide - Act of kılling your brother Matricide - Act of kılling your mother Filicide - Act of kılling your chıld Infanticide - Act of kılling a chıld within their first year of life Patricide - Act of kılling your fãther Avunculicide - Act of kılling your uncle Nepoticide - Act of kılling your nephew Amicide - Act of kılling your frıend Senicide - Act of kılling an elderly Hom*cide - Act of kılling a person Pedicide - Act of kılling chıldren Democide - Mürder of a person or people by the government Omnicide - Act of kılling humans with intentions to make them extinct Deicide - Act of kılling a deity, divine being, or god Mundicide - Act of kılling a planet
ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ; ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᴾᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ? ᴹᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ? ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵃ ʳᵃⁿᵈᵒᵐ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ ᴴᵉʳᵉ ˡⁱᵉˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ¹⁹ˣˣ⁻? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ? ᴵ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ'ᵛᵉ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᶠᵃⁿᵗ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ‧‧‧ ᵂᵃˢⁿ'ᵗ ᵍʳᵃⁿᵈᵖᵃ ᵇᵒʳⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳ? ᴴᵒʷ ᵈⁱᵈ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ? ᵂᵃˢ ᔆᵐⁱᵗʰ ˢᵃᵗⁱˢᶠⁱᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ⸴ ᶠᵘˡᶠⁱˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ? ᵂᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ⁱᵗ ᶠᵒʳˢᵉᵉⁿ? ᵂʰᵉⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᴵ ᵍᵒ ᵗᵒ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ⸴ ᴵ ᵗᵉⁿᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳᵇʸ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ; ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˡⁱᶠᵉᵗⁱᵐᵉ‧‧‧ ᴰʳʸ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉˢ ᶜʳᵘⁿᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʷᵃˡᵏ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ʳᵒʷ‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏˢ ᵇʳᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵉʷ; ᵒʰ⸴ ⁱᵗ ˢᵃʸˢ ²⁰ˣˣ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ ᵐᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ; ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵃ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ⁿᵃᵐᵉ! ᴬᵐᵃᵇᵉˡ‧‧‧ ᴿⁱᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ‽ ᴬ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ˢʰᵃᵖᵉᵈ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧‧‧ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ? ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵃⁿʸ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ? ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉᵈ‧ ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒˢᵉˢ ᵃʳᵗⁱᶠⁱᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ˢᵒ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ‧‧‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵒᵘʳˢ! ᴮᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʳʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵘˢʰ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ˢᵃᶜʳᵉᵈ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᴵ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴬˡˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᴬ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ᴵ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃʳ‧ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵈᵒᵉˢⁿ’ᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉⁿᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ʰᵒᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱˢ ᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵃⁿ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵃˢᵗ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵈⁱᶠᶠᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʳᵉᵃˢᵒⁿˢ ʷʰʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵒ‧ ᴴᵃᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ? ᴰᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱˢ ᵒᵈᵈ⸴ ᵒʳ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ? ᴰᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ? ᵀʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵛᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ʰᵉᵃʳᵗ ʷʳᵉⁿᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴳᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵍˡⁱᵐᵖˢᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ⸴ “ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᶠᵃᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᔆʷᵉᵉᵗ ᴬⁿᵍᵉˡ”‧ ᵂʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵇᵒʳⁿ⸴ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ˢᵒ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡʸ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ⸴ ᵖᵃʳᵉⁿᵗˢ⸴ ˢᵖᵒᵘˢᵉ? ᵂᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉʳᵛⁱᶜᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃʳᵗⁱˢᵗ⸴ ᵃ ᵖᵒᵉᵗ? ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗʸ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵃʳᵏ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵒʳⁿᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵈᵉᶜᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʷᵒᵒᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗ ᵗᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴿᵉᵐⁿᵃⁿᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳʸᵉᵃʳ‧ ᴬ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ⸴ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵˢ ⁱᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈʳᵃʷˢ ʸᵒᵘ? ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃʳᵛᵉᵈ ᵗᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵘᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵍˡᵃˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷʳᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ⁱʳᵒⁿ‧ ᴹᵘᶜʰ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᵍᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˡⁱᶠᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵒⁿᶜᵉ ʷᵃˢ‧ ᴿᵉˢᵖᵉᶜᵗ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃʳᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇʳᵃⁿᶜᵉ⸴ ᵉⁿᵈˡᵉˢˢˡʸ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ˢⁱᵐᵖˡᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵗᵃⁿᵍˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵃʳᵇˡᵉ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵉˡᵃᵇᵒʳᵃᵗᵉˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˢᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵍᵉˡ? ᴬʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ᶠʳᵉˢʰ? ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ⁱⁿʰᵃᵇⁱᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ? ᴾʳᵒᶠᵉˢˢᵒʳ ᴰᵃᵛⁱᵉˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ʰᵉʳ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈˢ ˡᵉᵃⁿˢ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵗᵒʷᵃʳᵈ ᵇⁱᵇˡⁱᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ ⁽ᵃ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵇᵒᵒᵏˢ⁾ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ⁿᵉᶜʳᵒᵖʰⁱˡⁱᵃ “ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵉᑫᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵍʳᵒˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵐᵒʳᵇⁱᵈ ᵈᵉʳᵃⁿᵍᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧” ᴵⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈ⸴ ˢʰᵉ ʳᵉʲᵉᶜᵗˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗᵉʳᵐ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵃˡˡ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵃⁿ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ˢᵒ ᵐᵃⁿʸ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒʳᵍᵃⁿⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ʷᵒʳᵏ⸴ ʳᵉˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒᶜᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖʳᵒᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ᶠʳᵃᵍⁱˡᵉ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ‧ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉˡʸ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ‧ ᴬ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉ ᵇʸ ᵈᵉᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ⁱˢ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵒ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ⸴ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃʳᵗ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᔆᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃˡˢᵒ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵉˢᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃʳʸ ᵗʳᵃᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵍʰᵒᵘˡⁱˢʰ ᶠᵒˡᵏˢ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵒᵇˢᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿˢ‧ ᴵⁿ ᶠᵃᶜᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵖᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵉ‧ ᵀᵃᵖʰᵒᵖʰⁱˡᵉˢ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᵈⁱᵛⁱᵈᵘᵃˡˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵐᵘⁿⁱᵗʸ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵉˡˡˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ’ˢ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵐᵃᶻⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴮᵉ ᶜᵒⁿˢⁱᵈᵉʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ‧ ᴵᶠ ᵃ ᶠᵘⁿᵉʳᵃˡ ⁱˢ ⁱⁿ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵉˢˢ ᵒʳ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵃⁿᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵉᶜᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ‧ ᴰᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ⸴ ˢⁱᵗ ᵒʳ ˡᵉᵃⁿ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿˢᵗ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ‧ ᴬˢᵏ ᵖᵉʳᵐⁱˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠⁱᶜᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵈᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇⁱⁿᵍ; ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʸ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ‧ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵖᵒˢᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ʳᵘˡᵉˢ‧
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…
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."
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r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 yr. ago normancrane I learnt my mum and dad were both proudly pro-choice parents. That's why, as I fatally strangled them with my umbilical cord, they must have respect my choice to not have parents.
Under the Covers Tonight's like every other night. You lay there, in the dark and silence, alone, with no company other than your thoughts. You shift and roll throughout your bed, just you and your thoughts. You ponder, you plan, and you fantasize; anything to distract from the ringing silence silence that surrounds you. You hear a creak, a common sound to hear on such a still night, but you still recoil when the sound hits your ears. You hear this sound almost every night, but the sheer unexpectedness sets off a trigger in your head as paranoia takes over. The thoughts that once illuminated your mind are now darkened. What was once pleasure and success has now turned to demons and killers The silence that your mind was distracting you from has now become the focus. You lay there, silent, listening for any obscure sound, hoping that the silence doesn't leave. Every little noise adds to your paranoia and the silence lingers as you await the next unexpected occurrence. You're too afraid to open your eyes at the thought of seeing anything your mind can conjure. You lay there, alone in fear. The fear builds in your mind as you try to find a quick escape from anything it creates. You revert to your childhood solution, hiding under the covers. You pull the blanket over your head and lay in silence. You hear noises, but they don't seem as scary. You figure if they can't see you, you're safe. The heat builds up under your blanket, but you put up with it simply for the comfort it supplies. You begin to calm down and relax, and revert back to your usual logical self. It's just you and your thoughts again, alone, under your blanket. You think of how silly it was to get so scared and worked up over a silly, little noise. Eyes closed, you lift the blanket off of your face as the built up heat is released. You breathe a sigh of relief and roll over, only to hear a deep, grating voice whisper, "Oh, there you are," sound of footsteps creeps toward your bed. " as the
Project Shocking I am the mother of a 20 year old girl that died in June from Toxic Shock Syndrome. My daughter was using a Playtex tampon. I've been doing an inordinate amount of research since her death in June, and have been sending out information daily via a pamphlet I authored with help from a PhD. known nationally for his research of Toxic Shock Syndrome. I also have been utilizing social networking and visiting high schools to point out the symptoms and prevention of tampon induced TSS. Many of these young women do not yet have the antibodies they need to use tampons containing viscose rayon. Ladies have been contacting me daily to tell their personal experiences of TSS or share the story of their child who died of TSS. It's unfathomable how the numbers are rising. The sad part is, every single instance of TSS I have personally heard about was using Playtex. I'm sure it isn't only Playtex brand, but these are the instances I've heard about. My daughter was only using "regular" absorbency. Regular absorbency isn't absorbency that is focused on. Amy was a hygiene freak, and changed her tampon like clockwork in fear she would get TSS. It still killed her. Another friend of mine almost lost her 15 year old daughter; not because she was using a tampon, but because of a fiber left inside her a week later. Her daughter is now recovering from reconstruction of her toes due to TSS. TSS is killing young women everywhere. I believe it's every bit as bad as in the 1980's; however, no one knows it. Even Playtex says on their warning label that 1 to 17 of every 100,000 menstruating women PER YEAR will get TSS. If you figure that out, how many menstruating women are there; maybe 15% of the population? That takes the number up to 1 to 17 in 15,000 PER YEAR. Pardon my math skills; I'm aging fast! It's staggering if you get to the real numbers! Up to 25% of these young women will die. People aren't reporting to the FDA; the FDA isn't policing the factories responsibly. They are under the grandfather clause with the FDA, so their new products aren't going through appropriate testing. They don't have to report what is in them. TSS isn't reportable to the CDC; yet the CDC gives out numbers of cases. This isn't right. People are led to believe these CDC reported numbers which gives them a false security. On to the Robin Danielson Act; 2001 H.R. 360, presented by Representative Carolyn Maloney D NY; the bill would amend the Public Health Service Act requiring TSS to be reported to the CDC and would also force the industry to list the content of tampons on the box. The bill has been thrown out continually for the last 13 years. I looked into the tampon industry CEO's political contributions to Congressmen. You can guess the outcome. In my mind this isn't adding up. I believe the fate of my daughter was sealed because of this corporate conduct. I'm currently starting a non-profit organization called, You ARE Loved, (the letters ARE represent my daughter’s initials, Amy Rae Elifritz) to educate girls in high schools across America of the symptoms of TSS, what to watch for and how to prevent it. They need to know! TSS symptoms resemble the flu! It isn't just super absorbent tampons, it's regular tampons too; anything with viscose rayon in it. Warnings say to watch for a rash or peeling. The rash isn't likely to be presented until TSS is beyond recovery. The peeling of skin isn't until at least 7 days to 2 weeks after it begins (provided you aren't dead yet). Playtex' annual report in 2007 reads, “Our Feminine Care marketing strategies have leveraged the strength of the Playtex brand that caters to the active, young female. Our Feminine Care marketing strategy centers on attracting first-time users, converting users of competitive products to our products and converting full-time feminine protection pad users to tampon users by communicating the advantages of tampons. In addition, we have developed the website, www.playtextampons.com, to provide information to adults and adolescents in choosing the right products“. These adolescents are the exact age group that hasn’t developed the immunity to the S. aureus bacteria. They are the most vulnerable people in the world to TSS. How can we get the warning out to these young women that TSS is real and happening when the industry is pushing so hard to reel them in? TSS of the 1980's is history. 2011 is NOW and TSS is happening! Lately I’ve seen medical professionals on TV talking about TSS. They keep repeating that TSS happens only with use of super tampons and to change frequently. My daughter changed every 4-6 hours! I know; I bought them! Actually the toxin begins to develop 2 hours after inserting a tampon and continues to multiply even while changing tampons. This toxin continues to increase as long as you are wearing tampons. The only way to dissipate the toxin in the vaginal canal is to use a pad for at least 8 hours between tampons. I’ve never heard anyone publically explain why alternating with a pad is so important! It’s a very understandable explanation. The only way to prevent TSS is with 100% cotton tampons or pads alone. The reason you can’t find cotton tampons in big stores is the companies that produce 100% cotton tampon are small. Cotton is expensive! These companies cannot afford the advertising to meet the requirements for shelf space at Walmart, CVS, or Walgreen. You have to order them online or go to a specific health food store. What 15 year old will wait 3 days for mail order delivery of a tampon when she needs it now? It's like a 3 day waiting period to buy a gun. I need help getting the word out. I can point you to the research, the professional journals, and the microbiologists that can back me up on everything I mentioned. The medical community is in the dark and it’s not their fault. I want TSS symptom posters on every ER wall in this country - symptoms and first actions. If a woman comes into the ER with a fever and flu, CHECK FOR A TAMPON! If she has one in, REMOVE IT!! Conscious or unconscious, remove the tampon or she will die. The medical profession needs to be educated in tampon related TSS; they are led to believe it no longer exists. Shortly after my daughter’s death I received a thank you message from a mother for saving her daughter's life. Last night I was told that because of my information a second life was saved. The feeling I get from these messages is beyond words. I take no credit for this because everyone needs to be educated. Saving lives is the result of the education. There is now a test; the TSST-1 antibody test that will identify if a person has the antibodies which make it safe to use tampons containing viscose rayon. My local hospital doesn't offer it … Yet. We need to test these young girls or provide symptom education for them and for medical staff along with funding for research to develop a vaccination that boosts antibodies to the toxin produced by Staphylococcus aureus. What more can I do as a citizen without help? It's time to recreate awareness for the new century of TSS. This is an important public service for this story to be told/this warning to be given. Grieving Mother, Lisa Elifritz Special thanks to Maxim Organic for supplying samples of 100% cotton tampons for the young women I speak to. The above is my interpretation of the research I have done since the death of my daughter to Toxic Shock Syndrome. It is not my intention to imply fault to any company, organization or individual. It has been approved by a nationally known microbiologist/toxic shock expert.
Adrenal Gland Tumor(Pheochromocytoma) Anosmia( Loss of Smell) Athletes Foot( Tinea Pedis) Bad Breath(Halitosis , Oral Malodor) Bedwetting(Enuresis) Bile Duct Cancer(Cholangiocarcinoma) Blackheads(Comedones) Bleedingnose(Nosebleed / Epistaxis) Blepharospasm - Eye Twitching(Eye Twitching - Blepharospasm) Bulging Eyes(Eye Proptosis | Exophthalmos) Cephalgia(Headache) Cheilitis | Chapped Lips Conjunctivitis( Pink Eye) Dry Skin(Xerosis) Fasciculations(Muscle Twitching) Fever(Pyrexia) Gallstones(Cholelithiasis) Herpangina (Painful Mouth Infection)(Mouth Blisters) Itchy Skin(Pruritus) Kinetosis(Travel Sickness / Sea sickness | Space sickness / Motion Sickness) Nervous Tic(Trigeminal Neuralgia) Ringworm(Tinea / Dermatophytosis) Singultus(Hiccups , Hiccoughs , Synchronous Diaphragmatic Flutter (SDF)) Smelly Feet(Bromodosis) Sneezing(Sternutation) Stiff Neck(Neck Pain / Cervicalgia) Stomach Flu(Gastroenteritis) Strabismus|Squint Utricaria(Hives) Uveitis(Eye Inflammation) Xerostomia(Dry Mouth)
My Sister's Sculpture My Mother told me about it when I was around 6 years old. She told me I wasn't an only child, I was one of two little girls. You see, she told me that when I was first born along with my twin sister, she died the evening she was born. She never told me why or how she died.or when they had the funeral for her. She told me about my Father going into a deep sense of mourning, and so to let us never forget my little sister my Father made a sculpture ofher. She was painted to every last detail. Her cute blue eyes to the little dimples in her cheeks. My Father would copy me as a reference since we were twins, and as I grew up I thought the sculpture was of me, but now that my Mother cleared this all up I felt more close to the sculpture than I did before. It wasn't long until I noticed that every year; on my birthday my Father would replace the sculpture and now the sculpture looked the same age as me, as if the sculpture would follow me as l aged. My Father continued to do this well into my teenage years, capturing her older and more mature features and the change in her face. On my 18th birthday I realised I could not sleep. I was wondering how my Father made the sculpture so detailed to me so late into the night. Perhaps he took a photo of me and paints it in every detail? I was curious. So I desided to creep my way downstairs to see if could catch my Father making the sculpture, and as l peeked my head around the kitchen door I felt all the colour of my face drain. There, on the Kitchen table my Father was injecting the “sculpture” with a liquid as he whispered "You will always be my little sculpture." as I watched the “sculpture's” hands twitch.
When one of my friends was born, the doctors told her parents she wouldn't live past a week. Then, they said that she would live, but she wouldn't be able to walk. Yesterday, at 17, we were walking through the mall together. She helped somebody in a wheelchair, saying "That could be me" She GMH Mar 22, 2011 at 7:00am by Emma G, Dallas
The End “The End is nigh” “Agency Officials: Spend this time with your loved ones” “Citizens prepare for the Inevitable” The newspapers were all the same. His mother whisked him away from the news stand and into her arms, but not before he read the last headline. “The Invasion: What could We have done?” “Mommy, what’s happening?” he whispered. She pressed his warm, chubby hand to her wet cheek and let out a quiet sob. “The humans. They found us.”
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.
♥︎˙ᵕ˙🔪☹️
Over a century ago, the woman was encouraged to keep her child after she's considering pregnancy termination. "your baby could be an artist or grow up to be a world leader" they had said, so she kept it and went to give birth to a baby boy c. 1888 He's named Adolf

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