Shockcore Emojis & Text

I Begged You “Please, I am literally begging you,” I warn, but the executioner only sighs and gives me a truly sorrowful look... The chaplain sits beside me. “Once he pushes the button, death will come soon after,” he explains, even though I have heard it so many times before already. “Any final words?” “Just, again, I tell you, begging you not to do this,” I say. clean conscience. That’s the thing, though; I haven’t murdered anyone. It’s been this way my The chaplain nods sadly, sorrowful that I do not face my executioner with a clean conscience. That’s the thing, though. I haven’t murdered anyone. It’s been this way my entire life. I don’t know why, but whenever I would accidentally hurt myself others near me would receive the wound. I once got a paper cut in class that caused the three people around me to bleed from their fingers. In high school, I was in a car accident, and even though my side of the car was hit, my girlfriend developed a broken leg. I’m always very careful. I take care of myself, trying to stay in the very best of health. But when I was mugged by that trio and he shot me in the face, theirs exploded, not mine. And when the cops came, they found me kneeling by their bodies, trying to figure out what to do and stupidly holding their gun. Around thirty seconds after the execution started, I see both the executioner and chaplain fall to the floor with a hard thump. “I begged you,” I repeat sadly. —stellarpath

https://nonutsmomsgroup.weebly.com/blog/remembering-those-we-have-lost-to-food-allergies

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago myymyy Rollercoaster "Mooooom, I don't like it. I want to get off!" I was a bit surprised. He had always been so brave. I was way more afraid than him when we got on. I never liked to be so high up from the ground. "This will be so much fun!", he had said when we were parking the car. I had kinda hoped he would be strong for both of us. "Oh honey, I'm sorry but we can't get off now, the ride has already started. But remember the small rollercoaster, in the park we went to when you were little? With the funny clown? This is just like that, only bigger. And remember how AWESOME it was?" My son looked at me with watery eyes. He had been so excited about this. I tried to swallow my own nervousness and keep talking to calm him down. My voice was shaking a bit, but I managed to put on a smile. "It's okay, it's okay. You might feel a bit funny in your stomach. It's because of the speed and the changes in the force that pushes you. It's normal! Listen, do you hear? Other people are scared too." He looked at me with his kind, blue eyes and nodded. Just barely. I wanted to hug him, but my back was pressing to the seat so heavily I couldn't move enough. So was his. My eyes caught a glimpse of the sun over my sons head. The sky was so bright. I tried to ignore the metallic clanging sound and people screaming somewhere that seemed to be so far away. Oh, how I missed the ground. Then I felt a big drop on my stomach. We were going faster and faster. My son started sobbing and I tightened my grib on his hand. I thought that he would become such a handsome man someday. He would end up having a good life, and marry a nice girl - or a guy, who knows? I didn't care as long as he was happy. That's all I wanted. For him to be happy and not scared. "Hey, you know what? Close your eyes. This will be over soon. I'm here. I'm not letting go." Someone behind us started to scream. I felt my blood run cold. I tried to keep my focus on the one thing that mattered: my sons hand and my calm voice that kept telling him that it was all going to be okay. Oh, he would become such a handsome man someday. But at this moment he was just a 6 year old boy on his first flight, going to surprise his grandparents all the way across the country. And the last thing I saw before I closed my own eyes, was the second engine on fire...

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

https://emojicombos.com/read-before-doing-horror

https://emojicombos.com/how-to-write-horror

horror story (plural horror stories) (fiction) A fictional narrative of distressing events. The film is based on a horror story by Edgar Allan Poe. (informal) A disturbing rumour. ▼ We've heard horror stories about people being attacked in the elevator. An unpleasant experience. ▼ It was more of a horror story than a vacation. Translations Chinese Mandarin: 恐怖故事 (kǒngbù gùshì) Dutch: horrorverhaal (nl) n Finnish: kauhutarina (fi) French: histoire d’horreur f, histoire d’épouvante f Hungarian: horrortörténet Spanish: historia de terror, historia de miedo f Swedish: skräckhistoria (sv) Uyghur: قورقۇنچلۇق ھېكايە‎ (qorqunchluq hëkaye) ghost story (plural ghost stories) A story about ghosts or the supernatural, often meant to be frightening. quotations ▲ 2012, Andrew Martin, Underground Overground: A passenger's history of the Tube, Profile Books, →ISBN, page 261: There are the books full of Underground ghost stories. An invisible runner pounds along the platforms at Elephant & Castle; children scream in the basement of what used to be the surface building of Hyde Park Corner, [...] Translations ▲±story about ghosts Catalan: història de fantasmes f Chinese: Mandarin: 鬼故事 (guǐgùshì) Finnish: kummitusjuttu French: histoire de fantômes f German: Gespenstergeschichte (de) f Hungarian: kísértethistória (hu) Irish: scéal taibhsí m Italian: racconto dell'orrore m Korean: 괴담 (goedam) Norwegian: spøkelsesfortelling Portuguese: história de fantasmas f Spanish: historia de fantasmas f, cuento de fantasmas m Swedish: spökhistoria (sv) Welsh: stori fwgan f, stori ysbryd f

༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ LOVING MEMORY ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻

----- Any stories involving triggering subjects must have a trigger warning -In addition stories, roleplay or jokes that include the mention of abusing Insensitive profiles are not allowed, this includes Nazi/ ww2 aesthetics that glorifies Ww2 and any profiles that glorify terrible points in history will not be tolerated including racism, harassment, etc. -In addition to this the use of slurs are not allowed Please respect and follow the rules, we want to keep the community nice!

https://emojicombos.com/read-before-doing-horror https://emojicombos.com/how-to-write-horror

People may like horror for many different reasons. Personification of non-human's, perspective, etc. There's some considerate guidelines to take in-to account. Of course, horror's meant to be scary, but not to frightening as to cause panic attack. Trigger warnings may give away the ending or some plot twist. Here are some tips: ~Profanity. Can say like 'oh dear' or something. ~Gore, avoiding unnecessary graphic detail. ~Animals. Can be something like 'the dog growls at presence of ghost' ~Self harm, etc. You can, however, have a character sacrifice oneself. ~Abuse (like exploitation, arranged marriage) although you can imply abduct, poison, etc. ~Stereotyping groups (portraying certain authorities, religions, cultures, etc. as disrespectful) You can use (with discretion) controversial topics (execution, foeticide, the double effect, etc.) lightly. You can mention potential topics (cannibal, baby death, poisons, apocalypse, etc.) in story insofar as it partains to the plot, but no glorifying trauma. You can have the narrator be the villain, victim, or bystander. Have fun writing, and heed your emotions!

When I was 13, a bunch of girls decided to lock me into the gardening house. The sprinklers poured down, leaving me scared, wet, cold, and crying. A boy punched through the glass and, carried me to the school nurse, even with a bleeding, broken hand. My now-husband’s courage GMH Mar 11th, 2010

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.

Iᴛ sᴀᴛ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ sʜᴇʟғ, ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛʟᴇss ᴘᴏʀᴄᴇʟᴀɪɴ ᴇʏᴇs ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛɪᴇsᴛ ᴘɪɴᴋ ᴅᴏʟʟ ᴅʀᴇss I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ғɪɴᴅ. Wʜʏ ᴅɪᴅ sʜᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ʙᴏʀɴ sᴛɪʟʟ..

“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.

ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ 🍓 ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ 🍓 ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ ꔛ ۫ ✿ (๑`^´๑)🎀⭐️もっと♥ ＧＯ！ＧＯ！🎀⭐️ ʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ 🍓 ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞʚ‎‏ ͜ ̩͙ ︵ ̩͙ ୨ 🍓 ୧ ̩͙ ‏︵ ̩͙ ͜ ɞ

..._...|..____________________, , ....../ `---___________----_____|] = = = = = D ...../_==o;;;;;;;;_______.:/ .....), ---.(_(__) / ....// (..) ), ----" ...//___// ..//___// .//___// ιf уσυ ωσυℓ∂ נυмρ ιи fяσит σf α вυℓℓєт fσя уσυя gιяℓfяιєи∂, вσуfяιєи∂, єχ-gιяℓfяιєи∂, єχ-вσуfяιєи∂, вєѕт fяιєи∂, fαмιℓу мємвєя, σя נυѕт α ρєяѕσи уσυ ℓσνє, яє ρσѕт тнιѕ σитσ уσυя ραgє!

Best Practices for Encouraging Special Interests in Children with Autism What Helps • Encouraging conversation about interest • Paying attention to non-verbal cues • Engaging in activity about interest • Allowing children to keep objects related to interest • Taking note of circumstances that promote calmness • Using interest as motivation for desired behaviors What Hurts • Treating the interest like it's boring • Ignoring non-verbal cues or gestures • Disengaging from the conversation • Forcing a discussion unrelated to the interest • Demanding that children think about other subjects • Leveraging interest as punishment

FIVE Senses to ground yourself 5 things you See (eyesight) 4 things you Hear (listening) 3 things you Feel (touch) 2 things you Smell (scent) 1 thing you can Taste

~ -creepypastastories- Monsters and Ghosts Monsters are real, also ghosts They live inside us And sometimes they win

vicenarian (20–29) tricenarian (30–39) quadragenarian (40–49) semicentenarian (50) quinquagenarian (50–59) sexagenarian (60–69) septuagenarian (70–79) octogenarian (80–89) nonagenarian (90–99) ultracentenarian (100+) centenary semisupercentenarian (105–109) supercentenarian (110+) supracentenarian centevicenarian ages 120-129 ↓ below are unreached ages of human people ↓ sesquicentenarian (150–159) bicentenarian (200–299) multicentenarian (200+) tricentenarian (300–399) quadricentenarian (400–499) quincentenarian (500–599)

. ✧ 　 ˚　 . i will face whatever comes today with a positive attitude ♡ 　　˚ 　 . ✧　　 .

🌟 Understanding Retinoblastoma 🌟 Did you know? Retinoblastoma is a rare (but can be treatable) eye cancer that affects people usually under age 5. Early detection is key! Here’s what you need to know: 👁 Symptoms to Watch For: 👉A white glow in the pupil 👉Eye redness or swelling 👉 Vision problems 🏥 Treatment Options: 👉Chemotherapy 👉Laser or cryotherapy 👉Surgery /enucleation: removal of eye (usually in severe cases) 👶 Importance of Early Detection: With prompt treatment, many can recover fully and even preserve their vision. If you notice any unusual signs in your child’s eyes, consult a doctor immediately!

Why autistic people are like cats: - We are highly sensitive. - We don't like loud or sudden noises. - We are easily spooked and startled. - Especially because we are zoning out, like, all the time. - We love to be held and touched and petted and cuddled bUT ONLY IF IT WAS OUR IDEA! - We're picky eaters. - Easily distracted. - Solitary creatures. - Takes us a while to warm up to people and be comfortable around them. - Our idea of being "social" is just hanging around the vicinity or in the same room as other people but not necessarily interacting with them. - We are finicky, particular, meticulous creatures of habit and we have a comfort zone we will defend with our lives. - If we deem you worthy, you will be allowed into our comfort zone. - Gaining our love and trust is super rewarding because it is not easily done. Be flattered. - If you touch us unexpectedly we will flinch or jump. - We are awesome predators and get super intense about stuff one nickname for the ADHD gene is "the hunter gene") - We are cute and lovable and have a lot of personality. - Many autistic children love to feel enclosed and secure and so love secret hiding places and cubby holes (i.e., "if I fits, I sits") - We sometimes appear to freak out at nothing and scamper away for no reason but really it's because we can hear things you can't and some sounds bother us. - Because we have such hyper-sensitive senses, any snuggles you give us will be a million times more rewarding for you because you'll know and appreciate just how intensely we're enjoying them. - Please give us food or we will boop your nose in your sleep.

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.

https://www.wordexample.com/list/words-suffix-cide Foeticide, of a fetus Neonaticide, of a child during the first 24 hours of life Infanticide, an infant from month old to 12 months Avunculicide, one's uncle Fratricide, one's brother Mariticide, one's husband or significant other Matricide, one's mother Nepoticide, one's nephew Parricide, of one's close relative Patricide, of one's father Sororicide, of one's sister Uxoricide, of one's wife or girlfriend Nepticide, of one's niece Amiticide, of one's aunt Geronticide – the abandonment of the elderly to Senicide

░░░HAPPY░FATHER'S░DAY░░░ ▄▄▄░░▄▄░▄▄░░▄▄░░░▄░░▄▄░░ ░█░░███████░█░█░█░█░█░█░ ░█░░▀█████▀░█░█░█▄█░█░█░ ▄█▄░░░▀█▀░░░█▄▀░█░█░█▄▀░ I 🤍 DAD

July 27th, 2010, 3:46 AM Today, my boyfriend came over and met my parents. Then he left, and my Dad told me that my boyfriend loved me. I smiled and asked, “How do you know?” He said, “Because he looks at you the same way I look at your Mother.” Love GMH

Mʏ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀsɴ’ᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ᴛᴇʀʀɪʙʟᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ I ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ᴘʀᴇғᴇʀʀᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ. Tʜᴏᴜɢʜ, ɪɴ ʜɪɴᴅsɪɢʜᴛ, I ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴏᴠᴇʀᴄᴏᴏᴋᴇᴅ ʜɪᴍ..

I miss my papa ✨ I really wish I didn't poison him

♡ ⋆ ° .˚ 𖧷 · ° .♡ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ° .˚ 𖧷 · ♡ wishing you less pain wishing you less stress wishing you less depression sending you love sending you positive vibes sending you healing energy ͏ ͏please accept ♡ ⋆ ° .˚ 𖧷 · ° .♡ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ° .˚ 𖧷 · ♡

FRIDAY, NOVEMBER 2, 2012 To those of you newly embarking on surgery these are my MUST HAVES for surgery: SURGERY SUPPLIES: Whiteboard Notebook and pen baby toothbrushes alcohol free mouthwash q-tips wet wipes travel neck pillow lots of pillows humidifier mirrors baby spoons syringes of different shapes and sizes pill crusher wrap around hot and cold packs lots of liquids (juices, ensure, water) chapstick a lot of tissues HAND BLENDER (I wouldn't have survived without this) towels power flosser Posted by Incognita at 10:49 PM

Exercise List: 1. 2-Way Stretch 2. Forward Folds 3. Extended Lift & Hold 4. Cobra Pose 5. Side Bends 6. Skipping/Jogging In Place 7. Inverting/Hanging

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

ᶜᶤᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ⁽ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴸᵃᵗᶤᶰ ᶜᶤᵇᵘˢ˒ ᵐᵉᵃᶰᵗ ᶠᵒᵒᵈˢ⁾ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᵏᶰᵒʷᶰ ᵃˢ ˢᶤᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ⁽ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᴳʳᵉᵉᵏ˒ ˢᶤ̂ᵗᵒˢ⁾ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵉᵃʳ ᵒᶠ ᶠᵒᵒᵈ ᵃᶰᵈ/ᵒʳ ᵈʳᶤᶰᵏ ᴮʳᵃᶰᶜʰᵉˢ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵒᶠ ᶤᶰᶜˡᵘᵈᵉ ᴾᵃᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶻʸᵐᵃʳᶤᵏᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵃᵍᵒᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴰᶤᵖˢᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᶤᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃᶠᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹʸᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵃᶜᶜʰᵃʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬˡˡ ᶤᵗᵉᵐˢ # ᴬ ᴮ ᶜ ᴰ ᴱ ᶠ ᴳ ᴴ ᴵ ᴶ ᴷ ᴸ ᴹ ᴺ ᴼ ᴾ ᵠ ᴿ ˢ ᵀ ᵁ ᵛ ᵂ ᵡ ᵞ ᶻ ᴬ ᴬᵇᶻᶤᶜʰᵉᵉᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᶜᵉʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᶜʳᶤˢᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬˡᵃᵗᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬˡˡᶤᵘᵐᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬˡᵗʰᵃᶤᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᶰᵃᵖˢʸᵗᶤᵏᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᵖᶤᵉᵐᵉᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᵖᶤᵒᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᵠᵘᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬʳᵃᶜʰᶤᵇᵘᵗʸʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬʳᵃᵏᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬʳᵒᵐᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬʳᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴬᵘᵇᵉʳᵍᶤᶰᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮ ᴮᵃᵍᵉˡᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᵃᶰᵃᶰᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᵉᶤᵏᵒᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᶤᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᶤᶠᵗᵉᵏᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᶤˢᵏᵒᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᵒᵒᵇᵉʳᵒᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮʳᵒʷᶰᶤᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴮᵘʳʳᶤᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜ ᶜᵃᵉʳᵗᵘʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃᶠᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃᵏᵉᵈᵖᵃᶰˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃˡᵃᵐᵘˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃᶰᵈʸᶜᵃᶰᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃᶰᵈʸᶜᵒʳᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃʳᵃᵐᵉˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃʳᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵃʳʳᵒᵗᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᶤᶜˡᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᶤˡᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᵒᶜˣʸᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᵒᶤʳᶤᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᵒᶤʳᵒᵐᵉʳᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰᵒᵗᵈᵒᶰᵏᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰʸᵐᵒᵐᶤˡᵒᵘᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʰʸᵐᵒᵖᵒʳᵗᵒᵏᵃˡᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᶤᵇᵒᶠᵉˢᵗᶤᶰᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᶤᵇᵒˡᵃˡᶤᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᶤᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵒᶜᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵒʳᵖᵒʳᶤᶜᵃʳᵃᵐᵉˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʳᵃᵖᵒˢᵃᶰᵈʷᶤᶜʰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʳᶤˢᵖˡᵒʷᶠʳᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜʳᵘˢᵗᵘᵐᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵘᶜᵘʳᵇᶤᵗᵃᶜᵉᵃᵉᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵘᶜᵘʳᵇᶤᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶜᵘᵖᶜᵃᵏᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴰ ᴰᵉʰʸᵈˡᵉᵍʳᶤᵗʰˡʸᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴰᶤᵖˢᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴰᵒᵘᵇᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴰᵘˡᶜᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴱ ᴱᵍᵍᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵘˢᵐᵃˣᶤᵐᵘˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠ ᶠᵃʲᶤᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠᵃˢᵒˡᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠᶤˡˡᵉᵗᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠˡᶤᵗᶻᵃᶰᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠʳᵃᵍᵃʳᶤᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠʳᵃᵒᵘˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠʳᵘᶜᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠʸᵏᶤᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶠɤᵖᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳ ᴳᵃˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳᵃʳᶤᵈᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳᶤᵃᵒᵘʳᵗᶤᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳᶤᶰᵍᵉʳᵇʳᵉᵃᵈᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳˡᵉᶤᶠᶤᵗᶻᵒᵘʳᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴳᵘˢᵗᵃᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴴ ᴴᵃˡᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴴᵃᵐᵇᵘʳᵍᵉʳᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴵ ᴵᶜʰᵗʰʸᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴵᵉᶰˢᶤᵐᵖᵉᵗʳᵒᵛᵉˢᵗʳᶤᵖᵃᵗᵉʳᵃᵈˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴶ ᴶᵉˡˡʸᵇᵉᵃᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴶᵘᶰᵏᶜᶤᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷ ᴷᵃˡᵃᵐᵖᵒᵏᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷᵉʳᵃˢᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷᵉᵗˢᵃᵖᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷʳᵉᵐᵃᵏᵃˡᵃᵐᵖᵒᵏᶤᵒᵘᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷᵘᵐᵠᵘᵃᵗᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴷᵘʳᵇᵉʳᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸ ᴸᵃᶜʰᵃᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵃᶜᵘᵗᶤᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵉᵐᵒᶰᵃᵈᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᶤᵖᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵒᵠᵘᶤᵗᵘʳᶜᶤᵇᵘˢᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵒᵘᵏᵃᶰᶤᵏᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵒᵘᵏᵒᵘᵐᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴸᵃ̈ʳᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹ ᴹ&ᴹᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵃᶜᵃʳᵒᶰᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵃᵍᵉᶤʳᵒᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵃᵍᶤᵒᶰᵉᶻᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵃˡˡᶤᵗᶤᵍʳᶤᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵃˡᵘˢᵈᵒᵐᵉˢᵗᶤᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᶜᴰᵒᶰᵃˡᵈᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᶜᴰᵒᶰᵃˡᵈˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵉᵍᵃᵇʳᵘᶤˢᵉʳᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵉᵗʰʸᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵉᵗʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵒˢᶜʰᵒˡᵉᵐᵒᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵒᵘʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵒᵘˢᵗᵃʳᵈᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹᵘᶠᶠᶤᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹʸᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴹʸʳᵗᶤˡᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴺ ᴺᵃᵇᶤˢᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴺᵃᶜʰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼ ᴼᵃᵗᵐᵉᵃˡ⁻ᴳᵘʸᴾʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼᵉᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼʳᵉᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼˢᵒˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼˢᵗʳᵃᶜᵒᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼᵛᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴼᵛᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾ ᴾᵃᵍᵒᵗᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵃˡᵐᵃʳᶤᵃ ᴾᵃˡᵐᵃᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵃᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵃᵗᵃᵗᵃᵏᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵉᵐᵐᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵉᵖᵖᵉʳˡᵘᶜᶤᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵉᵖᵖᵉʳᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒʷᶤᵏᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᶤᶻᶻᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵒᵖᶜᵒʳᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾᵒᵖˢᶤᶜˡᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴾˢᵒᵐᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵠ ᵠᵘᵉˢᵃᵈᶤˡˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴿ ᴿᶤᵍᵃᵗᵒᶰᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᴿʸᶻᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢ ˢᵃᶜᶜʰᵃʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵃᵍᶤᵒᵘᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᴬᵁˢᴬᴳᴱᴬᴴᵡᴾᴴᴼᴮᴵᴬ ˢᶜʰᶰᵉˢˢᵉᶰᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᶤᶰᵃᵖᶤᵛᶤʳᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᶤᵗᵃʳᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵏᶤᵗᵗˡᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵐᵉᵒᵘʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵖᵃᵍʰᵉᵗᵗᶤᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵖˡᵉˢᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ˢᵗᵃʳᵇᵘᶜᵏˢᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀ ᵀᵃᶜᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᶤᵍᵃᶰᶤᵗᵉᵖᵃᵗᵃᵗᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᶤᵍᵃᶰᵒᵖˢᵒᵐᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᶤᵐᵐᶤᵉᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᵒʳᵗᶤˡˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᵘᵇᵉʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵀᵘʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵁ ᵛ ᵛᵃᶠˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᵃᶰᶤˡˡᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᵃᵗᵒᵐᵒᵘʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᶤᵛᶤᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᵒᵈᶤᶰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᵒᵘᵗᶤᵐᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵛᵒᵘᵗʸʳᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵡ ᵡᵒᶜᵒˡᵃᵗᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵞ ᵞʳᵒᵘˣᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᵞᵁᴹᴹᵁᴷᴿᴵˢᴾᴱᴴᴷᴿᴱᴹᴹᴱᴾᴴᴼᴮᴵᴬ ᶻ ᶻʸᵐᵃʳᶤᵏᵃᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ ᶻʸᵗʰᵒᵖʰᵒᵇᶤᵃ

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..."

StressedAfraid_ My husband and I watched our daughter play in the park. We knew she was the perfect one to take home.

‘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...

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.

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.

Types Deltacism (from the Greek letter Δ) is a difficulty in producing /d/ sound. Etacism is a difficulty in producing e sound Gamacism is a difficulty in producing /ɡ/ sound Hitism is a difficulty in producing /h/ sound. Iotacism is a difficulty in producing /j/ sound. Kapacism is a difficulty in producing /k/ sound. Lambdacism (from the Greek letter λ) is the difficulty in pronouncing lateral consonants. Rhotacism is a difficulty producing rhotic consonants sounds in the respective language's standard pronunciation. In Czech there is a specific type of rhotacism called rotacismus bohemicus which is an inability to pronounce the specific sound ⟨ř⟩ /r̝/. Sigmatism is a difficulty of producing /s/, /z/ and similar sounds. Tetacism is a difficulty of producing /t/ sound. Tetism is replacement of /s/, /k/ and similar sounds with /t/ and of /z/ and similar sounds with /d/.

Sleep When You're in Pain (Chronic or Acute) Sleep on your back if you have lower back pain. Some individuals may benefit from placing a pillow under their knees while in this position. Elevating the knees can take pressure off the lower back. Sleep on your side if you have neck pain. Sleep on your left side to improve your digestion. People who find side sleeping helpful during their period may benefit from placing a pillow between their knees. Experimenting with different pillow positions can help. If you have stomach cramps, try drawing your knees up to your chest in the foetal position, which may help. This position involves lying on the side and tucking the legs toward the chest. You can also sleep on your back propped up with pillows to relieve heartburn. If you have pain due to gas, try laying on your back to relieve some of the pressure off of your stomach. https://www.wikihow.health/Sleep-when-You%27re-in-Pain

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.

Repost this If you miss someone right now. July 27, 2015

Common Experiences How has the semester been going for you? Do you understand the assignment that Professor gave us in class? .. . .. What did you do over break? What sort of plans do you have for break? What did you do over the weekend? Anything interesting happen this week? How has work been? What did you think about the school team's last game? Do you know who's going to s party on day? Interests • What sort of movies have you seen lately? Have any goad boak recommendations? Have you been to any great concerts lately? Have you seen any good plays? What did you think about the ball game on day? Non-Question Topics Your surroundings: the weather, an interesting painting or decoration, a peculiar scenic detail Interesting or humorous Current events or news • officials, shared neighbors, new attractions that have recently opened Compliments on appearance changes: hairstyle, clothing, shoes, accessories Recent experiences with friends or family • Humorous story about something that happened earlier in the day or week CONVO.. Common Experiences How has the semester been going for you? Do you understand the assignment that Professor gave us in class? .. . .. What did you do over break? What sort of plans do you have for break? What did you do over the weekend? Anything interesting happen this week? How has work been? What did you think about the school team's last game? Do you know who's going to s party on day? Interests • What sort of movies have you seen lately? Have any goad book recommendations? Have you been to any great concerts lately? Have you seen any good plays? What did you think about the ball game on day? Non-Question Topics Your surroundings: the weather, an interesting painting or decoration, a peculiar scenic detail Interesting or humorous Current events or news • officials, shared neighbors, new attractions that have recently opened Compliments on appearance changes: hairstyle, clothing, shoes, accessories Recent experiences with friends or family • Humor about something that happened earier in the day or week

‘First Words‘ by alatus_corruptrix Any day now, she’ll say her first words. My wife and I have been playfully betting on what she’ll say first – ‘Mamá’ or ‘Daddy.’ I can hear my wife crooning over and over while she feeds her ‘Mama’s little girl! Mamá loves you so much!’ Sometimes, she’s not even subtle about it – ‘Say ‘Mamá!’ Come on! ‘Mamá!” I don’t mind it though. I still believe I’ll win. When we first brought her home, she would scream and cry and nothing my wife would say could calm her down. Ours must be a daddy’s girl. I sit her in her chair and my wife and I begin babbling like chickens – ‘Mamá!’ ‘Daddy!’ ‘Say Mamá!’ ‘Who’s daddy’s baby?’ I pull the gag from our little girl’s mouth. “P-please… what do you want from me? Please, let me go…” My wife’s smile falls from her face. With a heavy heart, I put the gag back in as the girl starts to scream. I take her back and dispose of her. When I return, I find my wife crying. “It’s ok, honey,” I tell her; “the next one will be better, I promise.”

“I came home from a hard day of work only to find my girlfriend holding our child. I didn’t know which was more horrifying, seeing my dead girlfriend and child, or knowing someone put them there.” -Edwin Reifer

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.

‘Next Time You’ll Know Better’ by IPostAtMidnight Have you ever walked into a room, and found a vampire? The kind that snarls as you enter, like a beast about to pounce? Have you felt time slow as the creature crosses the room in the darkness of a blink? Have you shuddered with fear when it places one clawed hand atop your head and another under your neck? Have you then experienced a sinking, sucking blackness as you discover that not all vampires feed on blood—some feed on memories? Well, have you? Perhaps not. But let me rephrase the question: Have you ever walked into a room, and suddenly forgotten why you came in?

𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑑 — 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑙𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡. -𝐻𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑛 𝐾𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟

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.

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..

I NEED SOME BREAD AND CEREAL TOO June 7, 2017 @hellofinah You get a phone call from your Mum. Since her car has been in the shop, she asks you to go to the grocery store and pick up a few odds and ends for her. Bread, milk, cereal, and chicken... After writing down a small list you reluctantly get in the car and pick up the items at the store. Cashier makes an odd remark to you: “you know, we’re in no danger of a milk shortage...” Once arriving at mum's home, you knock several times. No answer. You decide to try the door. It opens. You place the grocery bag on the counter. Strange. There seems to be six other grocery bags, each with identical contents. In some bags, the chicken and milk have gone stale. You call out for mum, but no reply. You make your way through the kitchen and into the living room. Sitting on the couch, with her detached head neatly resting on her lap, is mum. Naturally you call the police who come over to investigate. They mention that she has been dead for nearly a week. Furthermore, the police psychiatrist is at the scene and talks to you after you give your initial statement. Sitting on the front steps, you overhear the psychiatrist talking with the crime scene investigator. “It’s not uncommon for people suffering from schizophrenia to get locked into series of repetitive behaviour” he says. You think to yourself, “They can’t be talking about me. Schizophrenia? Nah. Repetitive behavior? Do they think I did this?” Suddenly your cell phone goes off. “Hello?” “Hi hun, it’s me. Could you stop at the store and pick up some chicken and milk. Ohh, and I need some bread and cereal too.” “No problem, mum; I’ll be right over…”

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 min. ago InfamousInspector863 Her heart raced as the caller informed her that her date had died in a car crash earlier that evening. She turned slowly to face the person driving, realizing she was sitting next to a complete stranger.

‘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.

Sensory inputs can be any stimuli entering through one of the sensory modalities: sight, sound, gustation, olfaction, and tactile sensations. Tactile sensations include responses to pressure and temperature. Over stimulation is the product of sensory overload. Overstimulation (OS) occurs when there is “to much” of some external stimulus or stimuli for a person's brain to process and integrate effectively. Sensory overload can be triggered by a singular event or a build up thereof. When the brain has to put all of its resources into sensory processing, it can shut off other functions, like speech, decision making and information processing. Using noise-cancelling headphones to vastly reduce external sound, which can help to stop sensory over load. Weighted sensory products, such as blankets or vests, to provide pressure and soothing proprioceptive input. Avoiding open questions – if you need their input on something, aim to use closed yes/no questions. It causes feelings of discomfort and being overwhelmed. Moving away from sources of sensory input, such as loud sounds or strong smells, can reduce these feelings. However, it is a core characteristic of autism, where individuals often experience heightened sensitivity to stimuli. It's important to note that not all autistic individuals experience overstimulation in the same way or to the same degree. Some may have a higher threshold for sensory input and be less easily overwhelmed, while others may become overstimulated even in relatively calm environments. Stimming, short for self-stimulating behaviors, is a repetitive movement or action that can include body movements, vocal noises, or sensory stimulation. It can be a way to manage excess energy, self-soothe, or cope with emotions. Stimming can also help regulate sensory input, either increasing stimulation or decreasing sensory overload. Stimming behaviors can consist of tactile, visual, auditory, vocal, proprioceptive (which pertains to limb sensing), olfactory, and vestibular stimming (which pertains to balance).

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 𝔀𝓮 𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓵𝓭 𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓬𝓲𝔃𝓮: 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓪 𝓶𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 & 𝓫𝓮𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓼𝓸𝓶𝓮𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂'𝓼 𝔀𝓲𝓯𝓮. ଓ

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.

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 11 hr. ago daneylion I was told that I was getting too old to be a pilot and that this would be my last flight before retirement. I’m going to make sure for everyone on board that it’s their last flight too.

"Tʜᴇ sᴘɪᴅᴇʀs ᴡᴏʀᴋᴇᴅ ᴏ̨ᴜɪᴄᴋʟʏ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀᴀᴘ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴘʀᴇʏ ᴛɪɢʜᴛʟʏ ɪɴ sɪʟᴋ. Tʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ's ᴍᴜғғʟᴇᴅ sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍs ɢʀᴇᴡ ғᴀɪɴᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ɴᴇᴡ ʟᴀʏᴇʀ." —ᴘᴀʀᴛ_ᴛɪᴍᴇ_ᴡʀɪᴛᴇʀ

As I played in the basement, Mother called me upstairs. From behind me, She whispered, ‘Don’t go up there.’ — CheckeredBag

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..."

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.

Gᴏᴛ ᴀ sɴᴀᴋᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇ sᴛᴏᴍᴘᴇᴅ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴇᴇʟ ᴏғ ʜɪs ʙᴏᴏᴛ ᴜᴘᴏɴ ɪᴛ. Lᴀᴛᴇʀ ɴɪɢʜᴛ, ʜᴇ ɢᴀᴠᴇ ᴜᴘ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏsᴛ, ᴀs ʜɪs ʙᴇғᴜᴅᴅʟᴇᴅ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ʀᴀᴄᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴡɪᴛʜ Pᴀ. "Sᴏɴ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ʙᴏᴏᴛs. Hᴇ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ɪɴ 'ᴇᴍ, ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴏғ ғᴀᴄᴛ. Wᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴡᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. Wᴇʟʟ, I ʀᴇᴄᴋᴏɴ ʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. Hᴇʀᴇ—" Mᴀ, ᴡɪᴘɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴛᴇᴀʀ ғʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀ sᴇᴀᴍᴇᴅ ᴏʟᴅ ᴄʜᴇᴇᴋ, ʜᴀɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɪʀ ᴏғ ʙᴏᴏᴛs ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴀs ᴀɴ ʜᴇɪʀʟᴏᴏᴍ. Hᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴘʀɪᴅᴇ. Iᴛ ᴡᴀs ɴᴏᴛ ʟᴏɴɢ ᴀғᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜᴇɴᴄᴇ ʜᴇ ᴛᴜʀɴᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs sʜᴀᴅᴇ. Dʀᴇssɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ, ʜɪs ɴᴇᴡʟʏ ᴡɪᴅᴏᴡᴇᴅ ᴡɪғᴇ ʜᴜɢɢᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ sᴏɴ. "Bᴏʏ, ʏᴏᴜʀ ɢʀᴀɴᴅғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴛs ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴅɪᴅ. Tᴀᴋᴇ ᴄᴀʀᴇ..." Oғ ᴄᴏᴜʀsᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴏᴏʀ ʙᴏʏ ʜɪᴍsᴇʟғ ᴍᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ғᴀᴛᴇ. Hɪs ᴡɪғᴇ ʜᴇʟᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴛs. Lᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴄʟᴏsᴇʟʏ, sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ʜᴇʀ ᴇʏᴇ. Iᴛ ᴡᴀs ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ғᴀɴɢᴇᴅ ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sɴᴀᴋᴇ, sᴛɪʟʟ ʜᴏʟᴅɪɴɢ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴏɪsᴏɴ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴs. Lᴏᴅɢᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴍʙᴇᴅᴅᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏᴏᴛs.

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..

Tuesday, March 31st, 2015 | I only go shopping at night The cashier swipes my items across the scanner as I stare at the floor. I find it easiest to get through my anxiety by avoiding eye contact with other people. That’s why I only go shopping at night fewer people to avoid. “Did you find everything okay?” she asks casually. “Mm-hmm,” I mumble to the floor. Her voice sounds nice. Pleasant. Curiosity wins over and I glance up. The cashier’s head is completely caved in on the left side. Probably a car accident. I snap my gaze back down towards the floor. After I pay she gives back my change in a hand so mangled I’m surprised it can hold anything at all. Thanking her, I grab my bags and turn towards the exit. Immediately I see a man looking through magazines at the store front. The skin on his face and hands is the consistency of a hot dog that fell into a campfire. Burn victim. I rush out the door as fast as I can. In my car I finally catch my breath as I lean my forehead on the steering wheel. Eventually I look up and see my familiar reflection in the rear-view mirror: my head is blown open in the back. Gunshot victim. Why did I ever wish for the power to see how people die? Credit to reddit user resistance1984

The Vanishing Hitch-Hiker Author: Jan Harold Brunvand This next eerie story is about a man driving home late in the night when he spots a girl asking for a hitchhike. The pretty girl is dressed in a beautiful white dress. The man offers her a ride and they strike up an interesting conversation. He drops the girl at her home. Next day, while driving for work he notices that the girl by accident has forgotten her sweater in his car. He drives towards her home to hand over the sweater. An old lady opens the door when he rings the bell. He narrates the incident which occurred last night and gives the sweater to the lady. The lady refuses to accept it, saying he is mistaken. The man is surprised and questions the lady again. He is dumbstruck and left in an unsettling situation when the lady says her daughter died in a car accident a couple of years ago.

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."

avoid writing about- ~animals ~unnecessary detail ~certain groups -in such stories

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago chacde3 Halfway into our trip, the GPS arrival time switched from “Midnight” to “Never.” I was so distracted trying to figure out what it meant, I did not notice the truck veering into my lane.

July 1974, Neville Ebbin was knocked off his small motorcycle and killed by a taxi in Hamilton, Bermuda.⠀ 🚩⠀ One year later in July 1975, his brother, Erskine Lawrence Ebbin was knocked off the same motorcycle by the same taxi with the same driver, carrying the same passenger, on the same street that had killed his brother, Neville.⠀ ⠀ Both brothers were 17 when they died.

🔵 The first man to drown during the building of the Hoover was J.G. Tierney, on December 20, 1922. The final man to during the project was Patrick W. Tierney, his son, in 1935 - - also on December 20. 🔵

r/TwoSentenceHorror 13 hr. ago drforged ↓ “Have you ever seen a monster?” My son asked, as I tucked him in “No” I answered, as I looked into his many yellow eyes...

Mother Warned Me Mother always warned me not to cross the street. Mother warned me about those types of things. She said bad men would kidnap me, take me away. I guess she was right, in a way. I crossed one day, because I was never a good child, and several men came out and picked me up and asked me many questions. I don’t know why she never wanted me to cross the street. All the men wore blue and had badges. I don’t know why they put silver bracelets on Mother. I don’t know why Mother attempted to bite one of them. I don’t know a lot of things, I suppose. And years later, I’ll never know why she made me call her Mother.

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...

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago netflixandskill my son was reported missing last week they found him but it's not my son

I thought telling the genie “I want to live forever” But the universe went dark 3 billion years ago by douggold11

The End From Redditor u/MrCookieCutter: For the first time in recorded history, no humans died today. Granted, that's because the last one died yesterday.

"I wanted to scream, but I have no mouth."

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago CalebVanPoneisen While tidying up my girlfriend’s apartment I found a purple diary labelled “Boyfriends Whom Dare to Look”. Unable to resist the temptation my heart raced, at the sight of names and dates marked with red but before I could fully process it's meaning, a voice be- hind me chuckled “It’s time to break up,” as a sharp object pierced my back.

“I woke up in a joyful mood and went to my mirror with a smile on my face; only, my reflection wasn’t smiling back at me.” -Aubrey Lichtfield

“I woke up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. As I stood in- front of the mirror, there was no one staring back at me.” -Lucas Smelser

-August 19, 2017 What seeing red looks like. EVERYONE LOVES THE FIRST DAY OF A NEW JOB, RIGHT? NEW COLLEAGUES, NEW FRIENDS. IT’S A DAY FULL OF POTENTIAL AND HOPE, BEFORE ALL THE DREARY DEPRESSIONS OF REALITY SHOW UP TO RUIN ALL THE FUN. I LIKE THE FIRST DAY OF WORK FOR A DIFFERENT REASON THOUGH. YOU SEE, I HAVE A SORT OF POWER. WHEN I LOOK A COLORED 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, LIVING TO OLD AGE. A FAIR AMOUNT OF THEM HAVE A PEACH TINGE TO THEIR AURA WHICH TENDS TO MEAN A CANCER OR DEPRESSION. 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 THROBBING FADE. IT’S SUCH A RUSH TO SEE THEM AND KNOW THEIR TIME IS NUMBERED. WITH THAT IN MIND, I ALWAYS GET TO WORK VERY EARLY SO I CAN SCOUT OUT MY COLLEAGUES’ FATES. THE FIRST MAN WHO WALKED IN WAS BASICALLY RADIATING RED. TOO BAD, BRO. BUT AS PEOPLE KEPT WALKING IN, THEY ALL HAD THE SAME RAPIDLY FADING COLOR. I FINALLY CAUGHT A GLIMPSE OF MY OWN REFLECTION, SUDDENLY PLUMMETING TO A RED LIKE THE OTHERS. OUR BOSS STEPPED IN SMILING AND LOCKED THE DOOR, HIS AURA A SICKENING SHADE OF GREEN... ZENRYHAO

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago mydadsnameisharold "Yes, the blood means you're a woman now." Too groggy to make sense of the pain between his legs, he managed to ask, "... what did you just do to me?"

r/TwoSentenceHorror 6 hr. ago AnonymousNeverKnown ↓ I chuckled to myself, changing the 'is" to "was" on celebrities' wikipedia pages when they weren't dead. Imagine my horror when I saw breaking news about a plane crash, killing those very celebrities.

Practice Makes Perfect by reddit user whiteddit "You're not even trying. Again!" My calloused hands dance across the music. A finger slips and the tune groans. "Your father would be ashamed. Again!" My blurred vision falls from the yellowed sheet music to the keys. I miss another note. "Faster. Again!" I stumble once more as the tempo increases. She rises from the bench. "Absolutely worthless. You're done for today." I hang my head in shame. I know what's coming. The floorboards creak as Mother returns from the kitchen. I wince. It's hard enough to play with three fingers. It'll be even harder with two.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 days ago kaoru-aeli They pointed at me, laughing and calling me "four-eyes". They weren't laughing after I decided to revealed 82 more.

Mary had a little lamb It's fleece was white as snow, And everywhere that Mary went That lamb was sure to go. He followed her to school one day That was against the rules, It made the children laugh and play But soon they felt like fools. Mary’s corpse was in a room And oh, what a scene! The kids saw her coated in blood And regretted being mean. Soon the police arrived Stepped over Mary’s heart, And tried to ask everyone How she was ripped apart. But when nobody knew The origins of all the gore, The police decided That it was time to go hardcore. And so everyone was dragged To detectors so they can’t tell a lie But everybody refused to tell Why Mary had to die. Suspects were jailed everywhere Tom, Barb, and Sam Because not a single person knew The murderer was the lamb. June 21, 2017 hellofinah

no- ~pets ~unnecessary detail ~crims -in said stories

✈ ▌▌ ¦҉▌▌ ▄ .

avoid- ~losing animals ~excessive detail ~inaccurate portrayal of certain people ~making fun of groups

Avoid~ -profanity -animal loss -stereotyping -ignorance

‘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...

ᵗʰᵉʷʰⁱᵗᵉᶠᵃᵉ ᴼᵘʳ ᵀⁱᵐᵉ ᴵˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˢᵃʸ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ʳᵉᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵘʳᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵐⁱʳʳᵒʳ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡʷᵃʸˢ ʳᵉᶠˡᵉᶜᵗˢ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵈⁱᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷᵒⁿᵈᵉʳ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ᵃ ᵐⁱʳʳᵒʳ ʷᵃˢ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ᵖᵒˢⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱᵗ ʰᵃᵈ ⁿᵒ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵗᵒ ʳᵉᶠˡᵉᶜᵗ? ᵂʰᵃᵗ⸴ ᵗʰᵉⁿ⸴ ʷᵒᵘˡᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐⁱʳʳᵒʳ ᵇᵉ⸴ ⁱᶠ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃ ʳᵉᶠˡᵉᶜᵗⁱᵛᵉ ˢᵘʳᶠᵃᶜᵉ? ᴾᵉʳʰᵃᵖˢ⸴ ᵃ ᵈᵒᵒʳʷᵃʸ? ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ⸴ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʷᵒ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉˢ ᵉˣⁱˢᵗ ᵒⁿ ᴱᵃʳᵗʰ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ⁱˢ ⁿᵒ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ⠘ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳʷᵃᵗᵉʳ‧ ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʳᵐᵃˡˡʸ⸴ ʸᵒᵘ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳʳʸ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵗʸ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ˢˡⁱᵖ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜⁱᵖᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿ ᵇᵘᵇᵇˡⁱⁿᵍ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃˢ ᴵ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵐᵉʳᵍᵉⁿᶜʸ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗ ᶠˡⁱᶜᵏᵉʳ‧ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵒʷ ˡᵒⁿᵍ ᵗʰⁱˢ ˢᵘᵇᵐᵃʳⁱⁿᵉ ʰᵃˢ ˢᵃᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗᵗᵒᵐ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᶜᵉᵃⁿ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᔆᵒᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏᵘᵖ ᵖᵒʷᵉʳ ʷⁱˡˡ ʳᵘⁿ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵐⁱʳʳᵒʳ ⁱⁿˢⁱᵈᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᵉⁿᵍᵘˡᶠᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵏⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵇᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉ‧

r/TwoSentenceHorror 12 hr. ago HoardofAngryQuokkas It's happening again - I must wash away all this blood; silently, I creep out to the kitchen like I've been doing for the past three years, spending hours in the moonlight scrubbing out every speck of evidence. I know my dad and brothers think I'm some late bloomer, but I just don't want to freeze to death out in the menstrual hut like mum did.

Personal Data: Surname: Wamack Given Name: Robert Death Date: Age: 3 Town: Publication Data: Source: Grand Prairie Hustler (newspaper) Section: Page: Death Notice Dates: First: Obituary Dates: First: 13 Apr 1906 Additional Information: Notes / Comments: Grand Prairie Hustler, April 13, 1906 Little Robert, the 3-year-old child of Mr. and Mrs. I. N. Wamack, died Monday night with lockjaw caused by stepping on glass. He lived only a few hours after the accident occurred. This death was untimely, which makes it hard for the sorrowing relatives and friends who had learned to love him and who was so young and healthful to be taken away so suddenly. The sorrowing ones have the sympathy of all.

Cavan Observer Published in Cavan, county Cavan September 4, 1858 AWFUL ACCIDENT.--On Sunday morning, a woman named Emily WYNDHAM, came by a most sudden and lamentable death in her residence, Bond-street. The poor woman had been standing on a stool, in her own kitchen, reaching for something on the top of a press, when the stool gave way from beneath her, and she fell on her head on a cradle beside where she had been standing, and, sad to say, broke her neck. She expired in a few minutes after the dreadful accident. The unfortunate woman was the wife of a labouring man, and has left six children, the youngest being three months old.--"Belfast News-Letter."

A soldier called his parents from San Francisco. "Mom and Dad, I'm coming home, but I've a favor to ask. I have a friend I'd like to bring home." "Sure," they replied, "we'd love to meet him." "There's something you should know" the son continued, "he was hurt pretty badly in the fighting. He stepped on a land mine and lost an arm and a leg. He has nowhere else to go, and I want him to come live with us." "I'm sorry to hear that, son. Maybe we can help him find somewhere to live." "No, Mom and Dad, I want him to live with us." "Son," said the father, "you don't know what you're asking. Someone with such a handicap would be a terrible burden on us. We have our own lives to live, and we can't let something like this interfere with our lives. I think you should just come home and forget about this guy. He'll find a way to live on his own." At that point, the son hung up the phone. The parents heard nothing more from him. A few days later, they received a call from the San Francisco police. Their son had died after falling from a building they were told. The police believed it was suicide. The grief-stricken parents flew to San Francisco and were taken to the city morgue to identily the body of their son. They recognized him, but to their horror they also discovered something they didn't know, their son had only one arm and one leg.

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.

✨He had no way of knowing that the tip of one of the blender blades had come loose until he gulped down the last of his smoothie...

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.”