Drowncore Emojis & Text

Copy & Paste Drowncore Emojis & Symbols

. #DUDLEY, Sylvester, son of Sylvester & Anna, drowned 14 Jun 1802, age 5
Ennis Chronicle, Co. Clare, Ireland, Thurs 21 Mar 1793 JELLICO Limerick March 20 Last night Mrs. JELLICO confectioner fell into the river and was drowned. Submitted by #I000525
T H R E E L I V E S LOST . —————— (From a Correspondent.) A boating party, consisting of 8, left the town of Kenmare on Sunday last, and proceeded up the river about four miles, when a squall came on, and melancholy to relate, the boat upset and three people (Geoffrey Houlehan, Jeremiah Murphy, and Robert Downing) were drowned. The others saved themselves by clinging to the boat for upwards of an hour and a half, when a small boat from a vessel anchored in the harbour put off and rescued them from their perilous situation. The body of Downing was found the following day. The Cork Examiner, 16 April 1847
Swim at Your Own Risk In 1985, a guest at a pool party found after he drowned in the deep end of the pool. The party was for lifeguards who were celebrating a season without any drownings. ✨ Victim at Lifeguards' Party Jerome Moody was found on the bottom at the deep end of a department pool as the party ended. Mr. Moody, who was 31 years old, was not a lifeguard, but four lifeguards were on duty at the party.
pls note the ai inflicts emotional damage (ᵕ—ᴗ—)
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BUEHLER, George d 1959 Jul 20, drown; IR 1959 Jul 30
BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 18, 1849 🇮🇪 DEATH BY DROWNING- Last week Patrick Fitzgerald, a private of the 39th Regiment, while bathing in the Moy, near Foxford, where a detachment of that regiment is stationed at present, was seized with cramps and was drowned before some of his comrades, who were looking on, could render him any assistance. 🇮🇪 BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 18, 1849
ᴶᵃᶜᵏ ᴬ ᴬᵇᵇᵒᵗᵗ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ ²⁴ ᴬᵘᵍ ¹⁹⁵⁹ ⱽⁱʳᵍⁱⁿⁱᵃ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ¹³ ᴼᶜᵗ ¹⁹⁶² ⁽ᵃᵍᵉᵈ ³⁾ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵈʳᵒʷⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵗʰᵗᵘᵇ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵃˡ ᵇˡᵉᵉᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᔆᵃⁿ ᴹᵃᵗᵉᵒ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᶜᵃˡⁱᶠᵒʳⁿⁱᵃ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ ᴮᵁᴿᴵᴬᴸ ᴴᵒˡʸ ᶜʳᵒˢˢ ᶜᵃᵗʰᵒˡⁱᶜ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᶜᵒˡᵐᵃ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿ ᴹᵃᵗᵉᵒ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᶜᵃˡⁱᶠᵒʳⁿⁱᵃ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ
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.

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ᴾᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉ ᵇᵃᵈᵉ ᶠᵃʳᵉʷᵉˡˡ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ʷᵃˡᵏˢ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧‧‧ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ‧ ᴱᵛᵉʳʸ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉ‧ ᴺᵒ ᵗʷᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴶᵘˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ⸴ ᴵ ʷⁱˢʰ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵈˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʳᵉᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ‧
Cachy the Poodle, Marta Espina, Edith Solá, Anonymous man 21 October 1988 A poodle named Cachy, in Caballito, Buenos Aires, fell 13 storeys and hit 75-year old Marta Espina, ending both lives instantly. In the course of events, 46-year old Edith Solá came to see the incident, and was fatally hit by a bus. An unidentified man who witnessed her death had a heart attack and also dies on his way to the hospital.
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‧
Nancye Lorraine Carr .1942 – 17 Jan 1950 Daughter of Roger and Mavis GIRL FATALLY INJURED Nancy Lorraine Carr, 7, of Kingston Street, Camperdown, was fatally injured when she was knocked down by a car in Trafalgar Street, Stanmore, during afternoon. She was playing with other children in the street. She ran out from behind a parked car and was knocked down by another car. Central District Ambulance took her lo the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital, where she past soon after admission. The Sydney Morning Herald, Wednesday 18 January 1950 Rookwood, Cumberland Council, New South Wales, Australia BURIAL Rookwood Catholic Cemeteries and Crematoria Plot info: Catholic Mortuary. Sect M2. Area 15. Row 30. Grave 2681
𝐔𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐲, 𝐮𝐧𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 17 year old boy as rn whilst riding his moped... That is tragic enough as an event but it was further reported that he was exactly a year after his 17 year old brother was riding the same moped on the same street, by the same taxi, with the same driver, carrying the same passenger. Both were reported to have collided with a taxi driven by Willard Manders. According to their father, John Henry Ebbin Sr. of Woodlawn Road, Sandys, even the passenger in the taxi was the same in both instances.
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‧
July 10 death of little Anton Bear. The 6-year-old boy, his mother and his 3-year-old sister were walking down a road on the edge of the town, about 600 miles southwest of Anchorage when a grizzly ambled up in the dim dawn light. 🐻 Anton Bear, 6, male July 10, 1992 near King Cove, Alaska The six-year-old, his mother, and sister were walking down a road when they were approached by a grizzly bear. The family fled, but the boy was chased down by the bear and devoured.
ᴾᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉ ᵇᵃᵈᵉ ᶠᵃʳᵉʷᵉˡˡ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵛᵃʳⁱᵒᵘˢ ʷᵃˡᵏˢ ᵒᶠ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧‧‧ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᴱᵃᶜʰ ᵒⁿᵉ ⁱˢ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ‧ ᴱᵛᵉʳʸ ⁱˢ ᵘⁿⁱᑫᵘᵉ‧ ᴺᵒ ᵗʷᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴵ ʷⁱˢʰ ᴵ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ˡᵉᵃʳⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ʷʳⁱᵗᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵃ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ‧ ᴸᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ʰᵉᵃᵈˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʳᵉᵖʳᵉˢᵉⁿᵗ‧
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‧
December 13, 1977, Evansville Aces players, coaches, supporters and flight crew boarded a chartered DC-3 plane to travel to Murfreesboro for a game against Middle Tennessee. Just one minute after taking off, at 7:22 p.m. crashed, tragically taking the lives of everyone onboard. The only member of the Purple Aces who did not die in the crash was 18-year-old freshman David Furr; he was out for the season with some infirmary and thus was not on the plane that day. Lucky break? Well… Davis Lee Furr, weeks after the plane crash, and his younger brother Byron were killed in a car accident near Newton, Illinois, leaving the entire 1977 Evansville team dead.
ᴵᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃ ᵀᵒᵐᵇˢᵗᵒⁿᵉ ᵀᵒᵘʳⁱˢᵗ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʳⁱᶜʰ ʳᵉᵖᵒˢⁱᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵀʳᵃⁱˡ ⁱˢ ᵃ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵃˣ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳˢ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉʸᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜʰᵃⁿᶜᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒʳᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵃᵈᵐⁱʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒⁿᵘᵐᵉⁿᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾʳᵉˢⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᶠ‧ ᴷᵉⁿⁿᵉᵈʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ “ᴬ ⁿᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡˢ ⁱᵗˢᵉˡᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ᵖʳᵒᵈᵘᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʰᵒⁿᵒʳˢ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉⁿ ⁱᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳˢ‧” ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵍᵉⁿᵉᵃˡᵒᵍʸ⸴ ᶜˡᵃˢˢ⸴ ʳᵉˡⁱᵍⁱᵒⁿ ᵃˡˡ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵒⁿᵉ‧ ᴺᵒʷ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ‘ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗ’ ᵃ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒⁿ ˡⁱⁿᵉ‧ ᵂʰⁱˡᵉ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵃᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ˢᵗʳᵒˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵃ ʷⁱⁿᵈʸ ᵃᵘᵗᵘᵐⁿᵃˡ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ⸴ ˢᵉᵃʳᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ⁱᵗ ᵈᵒᵉˢ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ ⁱᶠ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵒʳ ᶠⁱⁿᵃⁿᶜᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵒˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵐᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳⁱᵖ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˡᵒᶜᵃᵗᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳ’ˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ⸴ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵖʰᵒᵗᵒ⸴ ᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵗᵉˢ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈᵃᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵉʳᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ᶜᵒᵐ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᵒᶠᶠᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ; ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ⸴ ᵃʳᶜʰⁱᵗᵉᶜᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃʳᵗ⸴ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵉ⸴ ᵃˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉʳᵉⁿᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴰᵃⁿ ᵂⁱˡˢᵒⁿ⠘ ᴵ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶜᵒˡˡᵉᶜᵗⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᵐⁱˡⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵃʳᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴬ ˡᵒᵗ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˡⁱᵛᵉᵈ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵃˡ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘˢᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᵃ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗⁱᵛᵉˢ⸴ ʷᵉ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁱⁿᵈˢ ᵒᶠ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵘᶠᶠ ᴵ ˡⁱᵏᵉ‧ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴵ ʰᵃᵗᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱⁿᶠᵒʳᵐᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵈⁱᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ‧ ᴵ ʳᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵃˢᶜⁱⁿᵃᵗᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ⠘ ᴬˡᵒʸˢⁱᵘˢ⸴ ᴱᵈʷⁱⁿᵃ⸴ ⱽⁱᶜᵗᵒʳⁱᵃ⸴ ᴺᵃᵗʰᵃⁿⁱᵃˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᶜʰᵃʳᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵉᵗ ᵒˡᵈ ᶠᵃˢʰⁱᵒⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴬˢ ᴵ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᵍᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵈᵉᵃᵗʰ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ⸴ ᴵ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡⁱᵛᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʷʰᵒˢᵉ ⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ? ᴰⁱᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ʰᵃᵖᵖʸ? ᴴᵃᵈ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʰᵃᵈ ᵃ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ˡⁱᶠᵉ? ᴬⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵖⁱᵗᵃᵖʰˢ⠘ ᴰᵉᵃʳ ᴮʳᵒᵗʰᵉʳ⸴ ᴿᵉᵐᵉᵐᵇᵉʳᵉᵈ ᴬᵘⁿᵗ⸴ ᴮᵉˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵂⁱᶠᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴼᵘʳ ᴮᵃᵇʸ – ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵗᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ‧ ᴵᵗ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱᶻᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵃᵗ⸴ ʸᵉˢ⸴ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈ‧ ᔆᵒ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵛⁱˢⁱᵗˢ ᵃ ᵍʳᵃᵛᵉ⸴ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵃʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ⸴ ⁵⁰ ʸᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵒⁿᵉ’ˢ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵃʷᵃʸ⸴ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵏⁱⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵒˡ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵉˡˡ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵃ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ⸴ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ˢᵒᵐᵉᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵈⁱᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ‧ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʷᵉ ᵒʷᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʰⁱˢᵗᵒʳʸ‧ ᵀʰⁱˢ ᵃᵖᵖˡⁱᵉˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃⁿᶜᵉˢᵗᵒʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵍᵉⁿᵉʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᴵⁿᵗᵉʳⁿᵉᵗ ᵐᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵈᵉᵗᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵖᵒˢˢⁱᵇˡᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵐᵘᶜʰ ᵉᵃˢⁱᵉʳ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ʸᵒᵘ’ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ⁱˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ‧
The King and The Pizzeria On July 28, 1900, the reigning Italian King, Umberto the First, went to a small restaurant in Monza, near Milan, for his dinner. He was waited on by the restaurant’s owner personally, and upon taking his order the pizzeria, also named Umberto, realized they shared the same name. The similarities didn’t end there, however. The two men looked very much alike, and not only that but they both shared the same birthday, March 14th. On top of that, they were also both born during the same year, 1844, and both of them were born in the town of Turin! They had both even married a lady named Margherita on the same day! The date of King Umberto’s coronation was also the date that Umberto the pizzeria had opened up his restaurant. The day after eating at the restaurant, King Umberto learned that the restaurateur had been killed in an unexplained shooting. Deeply saddened by the death of his newfound friend, the King expressed his regret during a speech to a crowd. At that moment, an anarchist by the name of Gaetano Bresci pulled out his gun and assassinated King Umberto I dead.
BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 25, 1849 🇮🇪 HORRIBLE- A CHILD PARTIALLY EATEN BY PIGS- On Monday an inquest was held by T. Izod, Esq., coroner, in the churchyard of Clonamery, near Innistioge, on the body of a child four months old, belonging to a farmer named Richard Mylott, of Coolnamuck, which met its death on Thursday evening, under the following circumstances. It appeared in evidence that Mrs. Mylott put the child to sleep in a cradle in the kitchen, and leaving to mind it another child aged nine years, went out to assist her husband who was engaged in trenching potatoes. In a few minutes she heard the eldest child scream in great alarm, and on running to the house she found that two pigs had got into the kitchen, taken the infant out of the cradle, and were then dragging its body each from the other, and tearing it with the utmost ferocity, the voracious brutes being stained up to the eyes with blood. Life was not at the time quite extinct, but the unfortunate infant was soon after released from its sufferings.-- Kilkenny Moderator. 🇮🇪 BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 25, 1849
BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 25, 1849 🇮🇪 AWFUL DEATH- A respectable farmer named Stapleton, who resided at Ballyanny, within a mile of this town, came by his death under the following melancholy circumstances:- On the afternoon of Saturday, while returning from Nenagh, he went to look at his cows which were grazing in a field convenient to his residence, whereupon his bull, whose ferocious nature was aroused by the annoyance of flies and intense heat of the day, rushed fiercely at the ill-fated man, knocking him down, gored his body in a frightful manner and killed him on the spot. When he had not arrived at home on Saturday evening, his wife and family became uneasy, an they caused messengers to go look for him to this town, thinking that he might have delayed with a friend. But they could find no tidings of him. On Sunday morning, as the deceased's wife was going to early mass, she observed the bull coming towards the house, and having blood on his horns, at which sight she was struck with horror. She then faced towards the field, where she found her husband's mutilated body, which was deeply pierced in several parts by the savage animal's horns. On Monday the unfortunate man's remains were followed to their final resting place by an immense number of friends and neighbours.--Nenagh Guardian. 🇮🇪 BALLINA CHRONICLE Wednesday, July 25, 1849
🇮🇪 ---------- Two youths, Thomas Kelly, 17, and Laurence Curley, 16, in a spirit of play, started to throw potatoes at each other in a Galway potato field. The first named chanced to hit Curley on the back of the head, from the effects of which he died. Kelly, who was brought up at the Galway Assizes charged with his companion's death, was released by Judge Johnson after five minutes' detention. ---------- The Tuam Herald, Saturday, April 3, 1909 Tuam, Co Galway
Lisa Loring Find A Grave Wednesday Addams https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/249148790/lisa-loring Lisa Loring Find A Grave Wednesday Addams
"Today, after a 72 hour shift at the fire station, a woman ran up to me at the grocery store and gave me a hug. When I tensed up, she realized I didn't recognize her. She let go with tears of joy in her eyes and the most sincere smile and said, "On 9-11-2001, you carried me out of the World Trade Center."
THE CONNAUGHT JOURNAL Galway, Thursday, June 24, 1824 LONGEVITY.- Died, last Saturday, at the Countess's Bush, county Kilkenny, Mary Costello, aged 102. Her mother, Matilda Pickman, died precisely at the same age. Her grandmother's age is not exactly known, but it exceeded 123 years, and long before her death she had to be rocked in a cradle like an infant. Mary Costello's brother lived beyond 100 years; at the age of ninety he worked regularly, and could cut down half an acre of heavy grass in one day. http://www.irelandoldnews.com/Galway/1824/JUN.html
🇮🇪 Cavan Weekly News Published in Cavan, county Cavan SUDDEN DEATH. On Saturday night last, a man named John FAULKNER, residing at Aghaloora, near Kinaleck, was choked by a piece of meat sticking in his throat. This accident is becoming frequent in this neighbourhood, a man named DOWDAL having lost his life the other day at Finea from a similar case. This ought to teach people that good digestion depends very much on proper mastication of our food. December 6, 1878 🇮🇪
🇮🇪 MAN CUT IN TWO ON RAILWAY Stephen Folan, who belonged to the Naval Reserve, was found terribly mangled on Sunday morning on the railway line between Craughwell and Athenry. He was returning from a course of naval training at Kinsale, and had £20 in his possession. It is surmised that he left the train at Craughwell, the next station to Athenry, and finding that it had departed on his return, he proceeded to walk along the permanent way to Athenry with a view to catching the Galway train. Apparently he was overtaken by a subsequent train and killed. The Tuam Herald, Saturday, April 3, 1909 Tuam, Co Galway 🇮🇪
Tomb of Casimir IV Jagiellon 1973 opening of the tomb From 1972 to 1973, the Cathedral authorities undertook work to renovate the Holy Cross chapel. As part of this project, permission was given by the Archbishop of Kraków, Karol Wojtyła – the future Pope John Paul II – to open the tomb of Casimir and Elizabeth in May 1973. The work was undertaken by a team of 12 conservationists and their initial aim was to examine the contents of the tomb in order to assess how best to renovate it. When the tomb was opened, the team found rotting wooden coffins and the remains of Casimir and Elizabeth. The restoration work was then carried out and, once it had been completed, Casimir and Elizabeth were re-interred in a ceremony held in the cathedral on 18 September 1973 with Archbishop Wojtyła conducting the service. In the following months, members of the conservation team began to die prematurely and unexpectedly: Feliks Dańczak died in April 1974, Stefan Walczy in June 1974, Kazimierz Hurlak in August 1974, and Jan Myrlak in May 1975. Rumours of a "Jagiellonian curse" began to circulate. However, microbiologist Bolesław Smyk identified the presence of the fungus Aspergillus flavus in samples taken from the tomb. This type of fungus produces toxic substances called aflatoxins which are linked to a number of serious health conditions affecting the liver if not carcinogenic. The Times reported that it is that the conservation team members had inhaled the toxic spores of the fungus as they opened the tomb.
Terrible Tuesdays ✨ Alexander I of Yugoslavia refused to attend public events on Tuesdays after three of his family members passed on that day of the week. But on Tuesday, October 9, 1934, he had no choice but to speak as he arrived in France to strengthen their alliance. He was thence assassinated.
Terrible Tuesdays ✨ Alexander I of Yugoslavia refused to attend public events on Tuesdays after three of his family members died on that day of the week. But on Tuesday, October 9, 1934, he had no choice but to speak as he arrived in France to strengthen their alliance. He was promptly assassinated.
ᴱᵈⁱᵗʰ ᴹᵃʸ ᴮˡᵃᶜᵏᵇᵘʳⁿᵉ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ ᶠᵉᵇ ¹⁹¹⁵ ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ᴶᵘⁿ ¹⁹¹⁵ ⁽ᵃᵍᵉᵈ ³–⁴ ᵐᵒⁿᵗʰˢ⁾ ᴮᵁᴿᴵᴬᴸ ᴳʳᵉᵉⁿʷᵒᵒᵈ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᴴᵃᵐⁱˡᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᴹᵉʳᶜᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᴺᵉʷ ᴶᵉʳˢᵉʸ⸴ ᵁᔆᴬ ⁵ ᵐᵒ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵃ ᶠˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ˢᵗᵃⁱʳˢ ᴰᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᴬᵐᵒˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᴸᵒᵘⁱˢᵉ ᴮˡᵃᶜᵏᵇᵘʳⁿᵉ
ʚ♡ɞ 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧. 𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 ༊*·˚
''𝐼𝑓 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠, 𝐼'𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑦 𝑡𝑜𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑠 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛'𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑜𝑟, 𝐼'𝑚 𝑠𝑢𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡'𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒''.... "𝑀𝑦 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙" ❤
ꕤ*.゚♡┊𝕀 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕪, 𝕀 𝕡𝕣𝕒𝕪. 𝕊𝕖𝕖 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕚𝕟 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕧𝕖𝕟 𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕕𝕒𝕪┊ ꕤ*.゚♡
✻ღϠ₡ღ✻(¯`✻´¯)Every life has a story *`*.¸.*✻ღϠ₡ღ¸.✻´´¯`✻.¸¸ღ¸.✻´´¯`✻.¸¸
* 𝓢𝓾𝓷𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓑𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 *
=========================================================================== BUDI. BUDIG. BUDIG, Ray G.; d 1936 Aug, auto accident, Omaha NE; bur McCook; (I88) ===========================================================================
ᴱᵈⁿᵃ ᴳˡᵃˢˢᵐᵉʸᵉʳ ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴ ¹⁹⁰² ᴰᴱᴬᵀᴴ ¹⁴ ᴶᵃⁿ ¹⁹⁰⁵ ⁽ᵃᵍᵉᵈ ²–³⁾ ᵁᔆᴬ ᴮᵁᴿᴵᴬᴸ ᴸⁱᵇᵉʳᵗʸ ᴾʳᵃⁱʳⁱᵉ ᶜᵉᵐᵉᵗᵉʳʸ ᴱᵈʷᵃʳᵈˢᵛⁱˡˡᵉ⸴ ᴹᵃᵈⁱˢᵒⁿ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗʸ⸴ ᴵˡˡⁱⁿᵒⁱˢ⸴ ᵁᔆ ᴰᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᴶᵒʰⁿ ᴳˡᵃˢˢᵐᵉʸᵉʳ ᶜʰᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉ ᵒⁿ ᵃ ᵇᵘᵗᵗᵒⁿ ᴬᵍᵉ ³
============================================================================== BURDSELL. BURDSELL, J. D.; d Sunday, train accident; WB 1927 Dec 27; =============================================================================
BURROWS, Gurney Edwin, b 1912 Jan 31 Scottsbluff Co NE; IR 1971 Jul 1; .....d 1971 Jun 26, tractor accident, Dundy Co NE; Benkelman cem; IR 1971 Jul 1 pg 12 p: BURROWS, Oliver; m McDONALD, Gertrude m 1946 Sep 8 Paris France
Mel Ignatow, the killer who died the same way he killed his girlfriend | Mel Ignatow was a convicted murderer who killed his girlfriend by tying her to a glass table and slicing her. Years later he himself fell on the glass table and died from the cuts.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- BROWN, Arthur; froze to death in last snowstorm; WB 1897 May 13; --------------------------------------------------------------------------
=========================================================================== BUKE. BUKER. BUKER, Della d Monday, farm accident; IR 1959 FEb 26 pg 8 -------------------------------------------------------------------------- BUKER, Guy d Monday, farm accident; IR 1959 Feb 26 pg 8 ================================================================================
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- BROWNING, Alford; d 1915 Mar 17, a4mo; mthc C29-E4; FR; .....d at home of BURTIS, George, Canby Pct, pneumonia; IR 1915 Mar 19; ifa24-5 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Troy Leon Gregg was the first man to have his death penalty upheld by the Supreme Court after the decision of Furman v. Georgia, but he didn’t die in prison. Troy Leon Gregg, The Man Who Escaped Death Row Only To Be Murdered The Same Night
The Cork Examiner, 19 November, 1856 ACCIDENT TO MR. HORSMAN, M.P.—We have heard with great regret that a sad accident befell the Chief Secretary while hunting, on Saturday, with the Ward hounds. It appears that in a hard run of some two hours, Mr. Horsman, who is a first-rate rider, was somehow or other thrown from his horse, and while in that state the horse, which was quite tired, rolled over him heavily, and, we understand, severely injured him. No medical attendance was, unfortunately, at hand, but every attention was bestowed on the sufferer which care and solicitude could afford. On inquiry last night at his residence in the Phoenix Park, we ascertained that Surgeon O'Reilly has been in attendance upon the honourable gentleman, and that although he has received considerable injury by the fall, and will necessarily be confined to his apartment for some days, yet the injuries are not of a nature to cause any serious apprehensions. —Freeman.
September 4, 1858 Mr. Wm. BENSON, painter, Main-street, Cavan, having gone home in a state of inebriety, fell down stairs, and, being unable to rise, was carried to bed in an unconscious state. He fell out of the bed, however, and a pillow was placed under his head, while on the floor, by his wife, as he could not be got into bed again. His wife and one or two of his children watched by the bedside for some time; but, not imagining that there was any danger, Mrs. BENSON, after a while, left the room, leaving one of the children for the purpose of calling her, should any accident occur. Up to this time the unfortunate man had breathed very heavily; but a few minutes afterwards, the little girl was alarmed by not hearing her father breathe. She immediately screamed for assistance, but it was too late--he was quite dead. An inquest was held on the body, on Thursday, by W. POLLOCK, Esq., coroner, and a verdict in accordance with the above facts was returned. What adds to the melancholy nature of the case is that deceased (who was an intelligent man, and a clever artisan) has left a numerous family--a wife and eight young children--totally unprovided for, to lament his untimely death. http://www.irelandoldnews.com/Cavan/1858/SEP.html
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.
qt-emoticons ꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷ +*+:;;;:+*+:;;;:+*+:;;;:+*+:;;;:+ 𖦊້ ゚・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*:.。. .。.:*・゜゚・*:.。. .。.:*・゜ ──。゚.o。( ・༚̮・ )。o.゚。── *⃝̣◌⑅⃝◍♡◌*⃝̥◍♡ ˚ . ˚ · ⋆   . * 🌸 ✦  *     . 🌸 🌸  .   · ✧  ⊹ .          *    . ˚ . 🌸  .🌸 . . 。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *¨✼•.¸¸.•ᓭི༏ᓯྀ*¨✼•.¸¸.•ᓭི༏ᓯྀ*¨✼•.¸¸.•ᓭི༏ᓯྀ•.¸¸.•✼*¨* ꔰꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꗥꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔰ · ··÷¦÷·· ·· ··÷¦÷·· ·· ··÷¦÷·· · ... 💘 ... · ··÷¦÷·· ·· ··÷¦÷·· ·· ··÷¦÷·· · ◌ ⁺ ˖˚ ◌ ⑅ ˚₊ ◌ ⁺⑅ ˚ ◌” .·˙·.·˙·.·˙·. ̗̀ꪶ♡͙۪۫ׄꦿ┈━┈━┈ ⁽🍓⁾˟◦۪۪̥ ┈╮ 。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。:+* ゚ ゜゚ *+:。 ✣✤✥✦❉❈✲✦ ✧✩ ✪ ✫ ✬ ✭ ✮ ✯ ✰ ✱ ✲✵ ✶ ✷ ✸ ✹ ✺ ✻ ✼ ✽۞ ❅ ❆ ❈ ❉ ❊ ❋ ✙ ✚ ✛ ✜ ✠ ✢ ✣ ✤ ✥ † ⋆⋆⋆★ ★ ★⋆⋆⋆ ❲✦•·····❳°•━━━━━━⋱ ⋮ ⋰ (+[__]∙:∙) [+..••] · · • • • ✤ • • • · · *。。*゚*。*。*゚*。。* 🔪·•°🖤°•·🗡 (:̲̅:̲̅:[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅) *•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•* ⋆*˸⸼᮫͓ͯ̽˸*⋆ ࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚࿙֒͜࿚ ❁⃘़︎•・・͓┈̊︎˳・̥̤˳┈̊︎・͓・•❁⃘़︎ ▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ♡ͥ ♡ͦ ♡ͮ ♡ͤ ¸.•.¸¸୨˚̣̣̣͙୧¨*✼*¨୨˚̣̣̣͙୧¸¸.•.¸ ࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚࿙࿚࿙࿆࿚ ⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫⏝̫ ⋆ฺ=͟͟͞͞=͟͟͞͞ ୨୧┄┈୨୧‧⁺̣˚̣̣*̣̩⋆̩·̩̩୨˚̣̣̣̣͙୧·̩̩⋆̩*̣̩˚̣̣⁺̣‧୨୧┈┈୨୧ 𓃺𓃡𓃾𓃿𓄀𓄃𓆙𓆑𓆦𓆨 ۰ ⸼ ۫ ◌ ⋮ ៚: ⋆*˸*✻*˸*⋆ ⋆*˸*✻*˸*⋆ ⋆*˸*✻*˸*⋆ ⋆*˸*✻*˸*⋆ •̩̩͙⁺˚ ⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙⁺˚ ⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙⁺˚ ⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙⁺˚ ·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙ ˚༘ ⃟ ⋮ ᝰ. ˖࣪ ୨୧⸝⸝˙˳⑅˙⋆꒰🍨꒱⋆˙⑅˙˳⸜⸜୨୧ .・*・.・*・.・*・.・*・. . * ✦ . ◍ ∘ . * ✦ ‧ ∘ ⊹ ‎⌖˚‎٭ ﴾﴿ ⌖˚‎٭ 𓂂 𓏸 𓐍 ◌ ════ ∘◦❁◦∘ ════ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. *•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•* ⋆⌁⌁⌁❤︎⌁⌁⌁⋆ .⃗ ⸼ * ۪۪۪۫ ˖ ˑ ܸܸ ۰ ⸼ ❉ *̊०ֻ̊॰˳ֶ̊॰̥०͙‧₊ ⃙ ⃚ ⃛ ⃜ ⃝ ⃞ ⃟ ⃠ ⃡ ⃢=͟͟͞͞=͟͟͞͞ ꫂ͙ꨩ⃟͙˖⃟꒰ ཻུ۪۪❁꫶͙ꪳᬽ⁖̤⃰ᮀ𐬆⢎̷⃛ꪳ͏̨᪽̌͊⃢▓ུ⃛ ┃ೃ͓᪰▒̷꫶̞⃟ᬺ⃔༅⁝⁽❪ ❛ ❜₎❫⁾⢎ ᬐꦹꦵ⃢˖꫶﮳ᮀ░꫶̼˖˳ᮀ⃜ᬸৡ꫶᪶̼⃜⸙ୁ꫶ ✦°.•⠀∗.•.°✦°.•⠀∗.•.° ❉⸼ * ۪۪۪۫ ˖ ˑ ܸܸ ꜜ ⸃⸃ ⸼ ꞈ ⸗ ⭏ ▾ ꭛ ˖ ︴ ↻ ⇁ ﹏ ゛ ⇢ ゙  ⁾⁾ ⭞ ଽ ୭̥ ➶ ↻ ✘ ┈ ࿉࿆࿆࿃࿆࿉࿆࿆࿉࿆࿃࿆࿆࿉࿆࿆࿃࿆࿉࿆࿉࿆࿆࿉࿆࿆࿃࿆ ‎ ˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚˙༓࿇༓˙˚ ˖✻*˸ꕤ*˸*⋆。˖✻*˸ꕤ*˸*⋆。˖✻*˸ꕤ*˸*⋆。˖✻*˸ꕤ*˸*⋆。 • ⊹ * ˚ ˚ * ⊹ • ॱ◌̥*⃝̣ ⋆.*⃝̥◌ॱ ̑▒⃤▒⃤░⃤ ᚔ ᚒ ᚑ ᚐ ᚐ ᚑ ᚒ ᚔ ֎֍ ᚼᕀᐝ ✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩̣̣̣̣̣ͯ ⏤͟͟͞͞★⏤͟͟͞͞⍣∗ ෞ•ෞ•ෞ•ෞ•ෞ•ෞ•ෞ ¸.•.¸¸୨˚̣̣̣͙୧¨*✼*¨୨˚̣̣̣͙୧¸¸.•.¸ _̴ı̴̴̡̡̡ ̡͌l̡̡̡ ̡͌l̡*̡̡ ̴̡ı̴̴̡ ̡̡͡|̲̲̲͡͡͡ ̲▫̲͡ ̲̲̲͡͡π̲̲͡͡ ̲̲͡▫̲̲͡͡ ̲|̡̡̡ ̡ ̴̡ı̴̡̡ ̡͌l̡̡̡ ༓❅⃝༓༓࿇⃝༓༓❅⃝༓ ︶᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ⏝᭨ི ྀ︶ •͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝•͙┄✩ͯ•͙͙✧⃝•͙͙✩ͯ┄•͙✧⃝ ⃟ ⃟⁞⃟ ୭࿔ ⃟ ⟢୭࿔ 𓋈𓊅𓉆𓈈𓄰𓌖࿂࿅࿚𝂷𓌏𓈜𓇬𓅸𓅫𓄠𓄃𓃱𓃚𓃦𓂐𖨄𖦼𖦹𖦷𖦥̻̻⊹͢₊˚  。*☆∴。 。∴☆*。 。★*゚゚*★∵★*゚゚*★。 ☆゚   ゚☆゚   ゚☆ ★*       *★ ゚☆。      。☆゚  *★。     。★*   ∵☆。  。☆∵     ゚*★。。★*゚   ゚*☆* ゚ ☃︎ͫͫ᪤⁛⋱⋰◌⤨⣿⧛⧚𐀣𐇵𓅿 𖧸‧࣭․ˑ▹ ⸻ 。۪۪۫۫↛ ♡*˚⋆。˚。˚♡*˚⋆。˚ 。˚♡*˚⋆。˚。˚♡ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - - -୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿ :-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-:+:-: ⃟⃜⃤ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿ ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿ ‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆。˚✩꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆。˚✩ ꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆。˚✩꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆。˚✩ ꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ ✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎ ૰༚∘ᐤ∘༚૰✧ •┈┈┈••✦☪︎✦••┈┈┈• 🂾🂼🂻🂺🂹🂸🂷🂶🂵🂴🂳🂲🂱 𖠁𖠃𖠄𖠅𖠇𖠋𖠊𖠌𖠍𖠐𖠒𖠔𖠖𖠙𖠟𖠦𖠣𖠧𖠨𖠩𖠫𖠰𖠱𖠳𖠵𖠷𖠶𖠸𖠹𖠺𖠻𖠽𖠿𖡃𖡅𖡆𖡇𖡉𖡋𖡍𖡊𖡂𖡎𖡐𖡑𖡒𖡔𖡕𖡖𖡗𖡘𖡛𖡜𖡢𖡤𖡦𖡝𖡞𖡟𖡧𖡨𖡩𖡪𖡱𖡲𖡳𖡴𖡵𖡶𖡷𖡺𖡻𖡼𖡽𖢄𖢅𖢂𖡿𖢌𖢍𖢐𖢒𖢔𖢔𖢘𖢞𖢨𖢧𖢥𖢪𖢭𖢷𖢺𖢻𖢼𖢾𖢿𖣀𖣐𖣓𖣔𖣖𖣘𖣙𖣜𖣞𖣠𖣡𖣩𖣨𖣧𖣦𖣢𖣯𖣫𖣰𖣴𖣶𖣹𖤄𖤇𖤈𖤉𖤐𖤏𖤌𖤊𖤋𖤙𖤘𖤗𖤖𖤕𖤓𖤛𖤜𖤝𖤞𖤡𖤣𖤤𖤥𖤫𖤲𖤳𖤹𖤾𖤽𖤼𖤻𖥂𖥃𖥅𖥆𖤿𖥑𖥎𖥍𖥌𖥋𖥓𖥔𖥕𖥗𖥙𖥠𖥟𖥞𖥝𖥚𖥛𖥢𖥣𖥤𖥦𖥧𖥫𖥮𖥳𖥶𖥸𖥽𖦆𖦅𖦄𖦊𖥹𖥺𖦂𖦅𖥾𖦎𖦔𖦒𖦕𖦓𖥻𖦡𖦞𖦥𖦛𖦤𖦨𖦘𖦖𖦠𖦜𖦝𖦫𖦲𖦳𖦴𖦷𖦯𖦰𖦹𖦵𖦶𖦺𖦪𖦻𖦼𖦾𖦿𖦸𖦮𖧄𖧋𖧉𖧋𖧎𖧊𖧅𖧑𖧐𖧕𖧖𖧗𖧓𖧚𖧛𖧜𖧝𖧞𖧁𖧁𖧉𖧉𖧿𖧦𖧤𖧡𖧟𖧝𖧨𖧩𖧰𖧶𖧫𖧪𖧺𖧻𖧽𖨇𖨆𖨄𖨎𖨞𖨪𖨣𖨤𖨨𖨭𖨮𖨰𖨳𖨬𖨷𖨸𖨭 ❉✹✦ꔛ •*¨*•¸.•*¨*•¸.•*¨*•¸.•*¨*• °.✩┈┈∘*┈୨୧┈*∘┈┈✩.° *。⋆❤⃛・。.。**。⋆❤⃛*。.。・**。⋆❤⃛*・。.。**。⋆❤⃛ *。*。⋆❤⃛・ ˳ ₒ ◦ °° ◦ ₒ ˳˳ ₒ ◦ °° ◦ ₒ ˳ ₒ ◦ °° ◦ ₒ ˳˳ ₒ ◦ °° ◦ ₒ ˳ ◡∘◡∘◡∘◡∘◡∘◡∘୨♡୧∘◡∘◡∘◡∘◡∘◡∘◡ ᠃◍⃪𖤘֥❜𖣢ׅ ░❀⃟ ⃟⁞⃟⟢💗 ╳⃟⃝⃟╳꧇❁〬‧໋݊𖠵ฺ۟ 𖨆︎᪥︎𖣔︎❁︎❁︎𑁍︎☻︎𓇽︎𖣘︎ ▓⃟❀⃟▒▒⃟❀⃟▓ 𔘓 ִֶ 𖡼໋᳝֘·𖦸໋᳝݊·ુ ‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆。˚✩꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆。˚✩ ꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆。˚✩꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ .˖⋆。˚✩ ꙳⃟ ✧⃟‧⃟₊⃟ ̟̮『̸̝̘͕̗̠̟̩̮̣̲̪̻͖̩ͧ̒̆̆̾͘͜͝ͅͅ ̴̟̹̰̋̈ͨ̔͛́ͪ̀͟ ͣ͋ͯͣ͋̚ ̸̛̫̖͚̫̼͚̫̭̺̙̙͚ͨ̃ͯ̏̄̓̐̋̽͢』̺̝͚̠͎̭̱ͫ̎́̃̽͑́͞ͅͅ ̟̮『̸̝̘͕̗̠̟̩̮̣̲̪̻͖̩ͧ̒̆̆̾͘͜͝ͅͅ ̴̟̹̰̋̈ͨ̔͛́ͪ̀͟ ͣ͋ͯͣ͋̚ ̸̛̫̖͚̫̼͚̫̭̺̙̙͚ͨ̃ͯ̏̄̓̐̋̽͢ ⊰᯽⊱┈──╌❊╌──┈⊰᯽⊱ ・:*:・ *꒦꒷ִֶָ·* ❁꫶ཻུ۪۪᭭⃟ ⃟⸙͎ ゚・✻・゚・✻・゚゚・✻・゚・✻・゚゚・✻・゚・✻・゚゚・✻・ ゚*.。.*゚*.。.*゚*.。.*゚*.。.*゚ ꧁₆⁶₆꧂ ᪥✯𖣔𖧷߷Ꙭ⁂⌘𖦹۞⍟𖣘𓇽𖦹❁᯾★☆✫✰᯽𓃟𓂉𓀬𓆙ଈ𓃒𓀡𓃠𓅿𐂂𓆈𓃗𓃱𓀿𓅷𓆏𖠌𐂃𐂊␈𓄁𓃰 ・。・。・。・。・。・。・。 •°• ✾ •°• ⍤⃝♡⃝♡⃝♡⃝♡ 🍒💕.・🍒💕.・ ☆☆.。.:*・゚*:.。.☆☆.。.:*・゚*:.。.☆☆ ■□▢▣▤▥▦▧▨▩▪▫▬▭▮▯▰▱▲△▴▵▶▷►▻▼▽▾▿◀◁◄◅◆◇◈◉◊○◌◍◎●◐◑◒◓◔◕◖◗◘◙◚◛◜◝◞◟◠◡◢◣◤◥◦◧◨◩◪◫◬◭◮◯░▒❏❐❑ ・*:.。.・*:.。.・*:.。 ᪣᪥᳀꙰꙳⋆ᯭ ༘◍⃘۪۪៶ ✼ ••┈┈••🎀••┈┈•• ✼ ꔰꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꗥꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔹꔰ ♥*♡+:。.。 ⍤⃝。.。:+♡*♥ •◦ ❈ ◦• - ̗̀ะ🌙໒❫ ⋮ ➮ ★゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜☆゜・。。・゜゜・。。・゜★ • 🌛 •┈┈┈*┈┈┈┈*┈┈┈┈*┈┈┈• 🌛 • ¸„ø¤º°¨ ¨°º¤ø„¸ ꒰🍒‧₊° ۪۪۪꒱'- 。゚.☆≡。゚.☆≡。゚.☆≡。゚.☆≡。゚.☆≡。゚. 𓈒ⴰ𓂂𓃉૰༚◦𐬹꠶𑂻꠨∘○⸰ᛜ᭜॰ᐤ°˚꧆ᣞⵓ𖡺𐬿𐬾․𝀛˙ᣟ⋱⋰⁖ ⁚ ⁛ ⁘ ★。+゚☆゚+。★。+゚☆゚+。★。+゚☆゚+。★ .。❁*.:。❁ ₊ ༝ ・ ˖ ₊ ˚ 。 . ⋆ :+:-・:+:-・:+:-・:+:-・:+: ✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎✩∗✧⁎ °˚◦˳˳◦˚°°˚◦˳˳◦˚°°˚◦˳˳◦˚°°˚◦˳˳◦˚° ̑⸬ᨳ̑▒⃤▒⃤░⃤̑༄༅ ﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽﷽  。*☆∴。 。∴☆*。 。★*゚゚*★∵★*゚゚*★。 𖡎݂ꪳ⃗ ᢆᚼᕽ ···ະ̽▹꒲࿐ྀུ··· ◦ᮀᨘ۬․ٰ。˚༷。˚༷➮ ⁺⑅ ˚ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖠋𖧷₊ ╭ ◜◝ ͡ ◜◝ ͡ ◜◝ ╮ ╰ ◟◞ ͜ ◟ ͜ ◟◞ ╯ O °. 。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+: 。.。:+* ゜ ❁.。.:*:.。.✽.。.:*:.。.❁.。.:*:.。.✽.。.:*:.。.❁.。. 。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。:+* ゜ ゜゜ *+:。.。:+* ゜
“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.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ _♥__♥_____♥__♥___ Put This _♥_____♥_♥_____♥__ Heart _♥______♥______♥__ On Your __♥_____/______♥__ Page If ___♥____\_____♥___ You Had ____♥___/___♥_____ Your Heart ______♥_\_♥_______ Broken ________♥_________…………….
Like this is you have a bf/gf/crush <3 February 12th, 2014, 2:44 AM
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
emoji combos *pink/cute* 🌸🍼🍡☁🥛 💭🍧🍥🐰🧸 *dark/edgy* 📎⛓️📽🎬🎧 🗯🐾🍙🎹🕯 *cottagecore* 🍓🌱🍄🌈🧺 🥨🥞🥖🍞🥐 *dark academia* 🦉🍂☕🎻🕰 ⚰️📜🍩🍷🍴
Things to Remember thespacegoat: • Accidentally close a tab? Ctrl+Shift+T reopens it. • Bananas release dopamine, eat them when you’re sad. • CTRL+SHIFT+ESC is the one handed version of CTRL+ALT+DEL • Don’t brush your teeth hard, it makes them sensitive and removes enamel. • Don’t like spiders? Put citronella oil on your walls and they will not go there. • Drink one glass of water for every alcoholic drink you have, you’ll get drunk without getting a hangover. • Get clear ice cubes by boiling water before freezing it • Heal paper cuts and immediately stop the pain with chapstick. • If you accidentally write on your dry erase board with a permanent marker, scribble over it with a dry eraser marker to remove it. • If your shoes smell, put them in the freezer overnight, it will kıll the bacteria. • Make bug bites stop itching with a banana peel. • Make a paper longer with 12-point text, but 14-point periods and commas. • Need to get around a blocked website at work? Try replacing the http:// with https:// • Never send your resume as a word file (unless asked) Instead, print it to a pdf file, it’s much cleaner and professional looking. • Pick a flavour of gum you don’t normally chew, and chew it while studying during a test. • Place a piece of bread in a container with your homemade cookies and they will stay soft. • Put a dry towel into a dryer with wet clothes, they will dry faster. • Put toothpaste on a pimple and it will dry out. • Practise fake smiling in the mirror every day before going to work/school, you’ll genuinely start to feel happier. • Rub canola/olive oil on knives before cutting onions, you won’t cry, alternatively chew gum and you won’t either. • Short on time with a wrinkled dress shirt? Hang it up in the bathroom to steam it flat. • The night before, place things you don’t want to forget the next morning on top of your shoes. • Use hydrogen peroxide to remove bľood stains from clothing. • When cleaning windows use newspapers or coffee filters instead of paper towels, they will not leave streaks. • When microwaving bread products/pizza put a glass of water in with it, it will keep your bread for going spongy. • When you move into a new place you’re renting, take pictures of any and all damage, then post them on facebook (privately if preferred) so you can use the reference date as proof you didn’t do it. • When searching plane tickets online delete your cookies prior, prices go up when you visit a site multiple times.
𝒶𝒻𝒻𝒾𝓇𝓂𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 ♡ ੈ i am loved i am beautiful i am worthy i am kind to myself i trust myself
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.
Sometimes I feel like I have my life together and then I'm like WOW that was a really nice 45 seconds November 14th, 2015, 11:51 AM
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.
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
Tumblr | 10/6/2014 | 7:44pm | DO YOU? meeplol: Most people agree that dying while being asleep is the best way to dıe. Peaceful, not signs of tortur͘e nor paın. My grandma used to say angels carry them, the ones who are dying while being asleep, to heaven. But sometimes angels can be clumsy and drop them by accident. Remember the time you felt like falling in your sleep and suddenly woke up?
Thank You You know, I’ve really grown attached to you. All this time I’ve spent with you has really made me feel a special connection to you. I mean, that doesn’t surprise you now, does it? You gave me shelter, fed me, and you’ve always been there for me. I honestly do not know how I could ever truly express my gratitude towards you. You’ve been so good to me, and I hope you know that I could not be any more grateful. I just wanted you to know that tonight, I’ll be bearing my - no, our - children, all 15,000 of them. They’ll be a reminder of the special connection we’ve shared these past few weeks; I just hope that you, or maybe your friends or family, will share the same connection with our children. From the bottom of my heart, thank you very much for being such a good host.
𝑡𝑖𝑝 🎀 ෆ self love is respecting yourself ෆ self love is setting boundaries ෆ self love is not skipping meals ෆ self love is standing firm on your beliefs ෆ self love is being kind to yourself ෆ self love is listening to what your body needs ෆ self love is prioritizing your mental health ෆ self love is embracing your physical “flaws” because it’s a part of you and makes you who you are ෆ self love is leaving people and situations that drain you ෆ self love is saying “no” to situations you’re not comfortable with even if it hurts someone else’s feelings
 ˚    . ✧      ˚     . ✧   ˚   . everything you are worried about is going to turn out ok, i promise you ˙ᵕ˙ ‧ ゚。⋆ ⋆. 𖦁 ‧ ゚。⋆ ⋆. 𖦁 ‧ ゚。⋆ ⋆. 𖦁 ‧ ゚。⋆
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.
‘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.
◌ 🌸 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗆𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗁  ‎◌ 🧚🏽‍♂️ ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗏𝗂𝖻𝖾𝗌   ‎◌ 🫧 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝖼 ‎◌ 🌱 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗋𝗀𝗒 ‎◌ 🪷 ⠀ׅ⠀⠀ׁ⠀ 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌
𝑀𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝐽𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙 𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑠 what are 3 things i want to accomplish this week? what are 3 ways i can improve from last week? what can i let go of this week? what drained my energy last week? how can i prevent that from happening this week? list 3 things i’m grateful for my affirmation for this week is?
I hate when websites ask "are you human?" ... no, I'm a vacuum. August 7th, 2012, 6:14 AM
˚ . ✧   ˚      . ✧      ˚     . ✧  sending you as many good vibes as virtually possible ✨🧁✨☁️✨🧁✨☁️✨🧁✨☁️✨🧁✨☁️
January 15th, 2013, 1:58 PM I have a bad habit of laughing at inappropriate moments.
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.”
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 .
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.
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.
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.
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..
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.
life hacks If you want to download a Youtube video, just add "ss" to the URL between www. and Youtube. Posted on Jul 10, 2013
𝒐𝒇𝒇𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 𝑖'𝑚 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑣𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑎 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑤𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 ♡ ˚₊‧⁺
stop trying so hard for people who don't care Feb 18th, 2018
To who ever is reading this; you’re lovely. Absolutely lovely. A perfect creation. You have so much potential and can achieve so much. Really, you are. So live your life the way it feel right, dream big dreams, and live passionately. Aug 19th, 2019
Repost this If you miss someone right now. July 27, 2015
Losing Carrie Carrie’s parents were deep in mourning They had lost their daughter, without warning Her mom moaned and wailed in deep sorrow Her dad would call the funeral home tomorrow Her mom looked down and in her head She wondered, if Carrie could, what she would have said If she could speak to them now, reach into their hearts Tell them how they would cope, where could they start? Her father looked down also and in his head His mind was racing with a sense of dread See, if Carrie could talk what she really would have said Is, ‘Mom, please help me, he knows I’m not dead.’
Hidden by the Rustling Corn The shortcut through the Corn field tempts you as you’re walking home the clouds above keep the moon concealed As you enter the swaying corn, alone. - The corn grows tall and thick, my friend, the path you chose is muddy it grows in rows without scope or end and in the dark, you hurry - You don’t see the standing forms As you pass them on your way they stand still amongst the swaying corn which hides their pallor, and decay - hundreds gather in this field tonight though you see none at all yet still you look around in fright but the corn grows too thick, too tall - You tell yourself as you continue through “Its merely the rustling of the leaves,” But they see you, and they hear you, And they might not let you leave.
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.”
Skin Deep On Monday she looked beautiful, her skin silky smooth and sleek. Then on Tuesday she was saddened by the pimple on her cheek. Wednesday was a nightmare, the awful blemish grew and grew. On Thursday people stopped and stared; it seemed like everybody knew. Friday left her scrambling, finding cover-up that matched. And early Saturday morning…..it hatched.
in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ゚。 in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ゚。 in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ゚。 in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ゚。 in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ゚。 in my healing era ☁️ ᡣ𐭩 ゚。
i am lucky 𖦁  ˚    . ✧    ˚    . ✧      ˚     . ✧  ˚  . ᰔ luck is always by my side ᰔ i am the luckiest girl right now ᰔ luck never lets me down ᰔ it always turns out good ᰔ everything i want is mine ᰔ miracles happen to me daily ᰔ things always work out for me ᰔ i am always just so lucky    ˚ . ✧   ˚
𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 + make a wishlist so you’ll be prepared when it’s your birthday/Christmas + do five or more journal prompts + start a new hobby or make a list of new hobbies you’d like to try + write a letter to your future self or film a video for your future self + digital redecorating: change the theme/layout of your devices + reread a book you haven’t read in 3 or more years + watch a show or film in a genre you don’t usually watch + go on YouTube and make a playlist of your favorite self improvement/advice videos to watch when you’re down or need a push + learn a favorite song on an instrument + paint or draw the view outside your bedroom window + make a Pinterest board that perfectly captures the vibe(s) you wish to embody + organize your desk + go on a walk when the sun sets + watch a YouTuber you used to love + plan your ideal trip! it’s super fun to dream up possible vacations!! + look for a new podcast to listen to 𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ✧
‧ ゚。⋆ * ⋆. ౨ৎ ‧ ゚。⋆ * ⋆. ౨ৎ ‧ ゚。⋆ * ⋆. ౨ৎ ‧ ゚。⋆ * it has gotten better before and it will again ☆ ‧ ゚。⋆ * ⋆. ౨ৎ ‧ ゚。⋆ * ⋆. ౨ৎ ‧ ゚。⋆ * ⋆. ౨ৎ ‧ ゚。⋆ *
𓍯𓂃 ⭒ 𓍯𓂃 ⭒ 𓍯𓂃 ⭒ 𓍯𓂃 ⭒ soft hearted, kind to myself, divine, glowing soul gentle, loving aura, dreaming big 𓍯𓂃 ⭒ 𓍯𓂃 ⭒ 𓍯𓂃 ⭒ 𓍯𓂃 ⭒
・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・。・ i hope this year brings us lots of love, blessings and good people 🧁 ⟡ ゚。
   ˚     . ✧     ˚     . ✧     ˚     . you are bigger than what is making you anxious    ˚     . ✧     ˚     . ✧     ˚     .
. ✧   ˚  . i will face whatever comes today with a positive attitude ♡   ˚   . ✧   .
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.
1 day ago u/Sticky_Cheetos He handed me a box and said, “If you press this button, you get $100,000, but it takes one year off of your lįfe.” I pressed it once, and everything went dark̵.
r/TwoSentenceHorror 26 days ago Prestigious_Salad_85 I screamed in excitement as I received an email stating that my application was accepted. The rest of my family cried out in despair knowing they weren’t selected to board the last ship leaving our dying planet behind.
compassionatereminders "But why do you let your disability stop you?" Because that's.... what disabilities... do. That's... literally the basic definition... of being disabled... A disability impairs your ability to function. That's what the term means. That's the main thing Feb 17th, 2024
nondivisable some of yall need to understand that "my bødy, my chøice" also applies to: addicts in active addiction with no intention of quitting phys dısabled people who deny medical treatment neurodivergent people who deny psychiatric treatment (yes, including schizophrenic people and people with personality dısorder) trans people who want or don't want to medically transition and if you can't understand that, then you don't get to use the phrase
bebsi-cola disabled people deserve more than the bare minimum to live tbh and i don't mean in the "oh we have extra costs that makes being disabled more expensive" - which is true but i'm counting those in the budget to live. disabled people also deserve enough money to buy treats, nice clothes, fund their hobbies, take a trip away and so on. being disabled shouldn't force you into a life of frugality and poverty Mar 7th, 2024
Accessibility should not be an afterthought Feb 21st, 2024 silversarcasm Your daily reminder that inaccessibility isn’t just a little bothᥱr to dısabled people but is part of a violent ableist culture that bars dısabled people from many parts of life and treats them as unimportant and unneeded
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