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https://www.wikihow.com/Sleep-with-Stomach-Pain

APPENDICITIS Stomach paın and discomfort. Almost like a tightness. Very sensitive if you push on it. Bit of náuseas. The area will feel hãrd from swelling. abs felt really sore area of the soreness shrunk and localized like an inflatable balloon in abdomen Sudden paın that starts near your belly button then moves down and to the right Paın that gets worse over a couple of hours Paın that intensifies if you inhale deeply, cough, sneeze or make any other sudden movements Paın that doesn’t feel like anything you’ve ever experienced before Náuseas Vomıtıng Çonstipation Dıarrhea The sensation that defecating will make you feel better A low-grade fever that may become more severe as paın grows A bloated abdomen Feeling unable to pass gas made nauseous when on your back You start to feel very mild “flu-like” symptoms 24-48 hours before you have any abdominal paın. Then you start to get upper abdominal paın above your belly button, feels like if you are wearing high waisted pants that are too tıght. It is such an uncomf'rtable feeling and you just want to lay down and sleep it off. tested at home by 1 - pressing down on lower right abdomen and if it relieved the paın while pushing but increases paın when releasing your fingers, then its appendicitis. 2- lay on your back and bend your right leg and bring your knee to your chest if that’s painful but not when roll your knee away from yourself with your leg still bent, if that relieves the paın, it’s your appendix If its been hurting since last night and today your paın is only mild with certain movements it’s not your appendix. You would hurt strongly for about 4-5 hrs straight then the next 4 plus would be unbearable. Like unable to stand up or walk type paın + vom1ting.

༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ LOVING MEMORY ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻

..._...|..____________________, , ....../ `---___________----_____|] = = = = = 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!

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)

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

APPENDICITIS Stomach pain and discomfort. Almost like a tightness. Very sensitive if you push on it. Bit of nausea. The area will feel hard from swelling. abs felt really sore area of the soreness shrunk and localized like an inflatable balloon in abdomen Sudden pain that starts near your belly button then moves down and to the right Pain that gets worse over a couple of hours Pain that intensifies if you inhale deeply, cough, sneeze, or make any other sudden movements Pain that doesn’t feel like anything you’ve ever experienced before Nausea Vomiting Constipation Diarrhea The sensation that pooping will make you feel better A low-grade fever that may become more severe as the pain grows A bloated abdomen Feeling unable to pass gas made nauseous when on your back You start to feel very mild “flu-like” symptoms 24-48 hours before you have any abdominal pain. Then you start to get upper abdominal pain above your belly button like if you are wearing high waisted pants that are too tight. It is such an uncomfortable feeling and you just want to lay down and sleep it off. tested at home by 1 - pressing down on my lower right abdomen and if it relived the pain while pushing but increases pain when releasing you fingers then its appendicitis. 2- lay on your back and bend you right leg and bring your knee to your chest if that’s painful but then roll your knee away from yourself with your leg still bend and that relieves the pain then it’s your appendix If its been hurting since last night and today your pain is only mild with certain movements it’s not your appendix. You would hurt strongly for about 4-5 hrs straight then the next 4 plus would be unbearable. Like unable to stand up or walk type pain + vomiting.

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

hydrate interview the physician before the consult to make sure they are compassionate nerve patch lidocaine cream 20 minutes before to numb, emla cream butterfly needle use a baby (small) gauge needle a mild sedative twilight sleep or under another type of anesthesia midwives as an alternative Communicate your needs and discomfort... it will go a long way 💙 follow your gut feelings

https://autisticgirlsnetwork.org/needle-phobia-autism-and-coping-with-blood-tests-and-vaccinations/ Needle Phobia; autism and coping with blood tests and vaccinations Isabella’s story We asked Isabella if she’d like to write something after we were initially contacted by her mum, experiencing a huge lack of support for needle phobia. Isabella had become more and more unwell, but all medical professionals said they couldn’t do anything further without blood tests. The problem was nobody was supporting Isabella to be able to have the testing. From Isabella’s mum “She came home from university at Easter and after days of high temperatures she was told to go to A&E. It was here that an incredibly understanding Doctor listened to what we were saying, took into account her autism and helped to arrange for her to self-administer a finger prick test that allowed them to collect just enough blood for an initial test. To cut a long, night in A&E, story short, she was diagnosed with leukaemia and immediately admitted to hospital and is now undergoing intensive chemotherapy. The autism note on her file and the extremely understanding staff here have helped her navigate numerous bone marrow biopsies and lumbar punctures and allowed her to have tablet forms of other medications that could have been injections. We are just so grateful that we finally found medical professionals who understood, they are few and far between.” From Isabella I’d like to talk about some of the challenges I’ve faced because there’s been a lot of variation and I think it’s very important for medical staff to know what does and doesn’t work. I can now see that being taken seriously can save lives; and it scares me to know that not being listened to can put lives at risk. I think the main things I’ve experienced have been: Secondary school vaccination staff are not properly aware of additional challenges that some students may have. Looking back on my experience in secondary school, I don’t think the community nurses were properly aware that they couldn’t take a one size fits all approach. Their approach to me being too scared to have the vaccines done at school was to simply send me to the catch up clinic for it which unsurprisingly didn’t do anything because it was the exact same set up as school! Sure, they didn’t know that I was autistic (and I had no clue either) so making adjustments wouldn’t have been their first priority; though I suspect it was very obvious by the amount of distress I was very visibly showing that something wasn’t typical about what was happening. We eventually managed to go to a second catch up clinic where they did vaccinate me successfully but it wasn’t overall a successful experience I’d say and it probably did more harm than good. I made sure that I mentioned this time that I wanted them to be clear with me what was happening and they told me that they would let me put on headphones and try and relax myself before they attempted to vaccinate me. But no, they did the vaccine while I was preparing for it and made me lose all my trust in them because they had not listened properly. So when I came back for the second dose of the HPV vaccine the year after it never happened because I couldn’t trust them to make me feel calm enough to start the process of taking my blazer off because I couldn’t trust them to vaccinate me when I felt ready and not to shock me and do it too early and unexpectedly. The main thing they could’ve done that would’ve helped? I’m not sure as it was a long time ago, but I think acknowledging the existence of undiagnosed neurodivergent students (or students who are more anxious about it for other reasons too) going through vaccination who might have heightened anxiety could be a good start and being fully honest and open with them about what’s going to happen and giving them the time and space they need. I think maybe if someone had in the catch up clinic realised that I was too scared and used 20 minutes to talk through arranging another time to get it done in a more relaxed environment with numbing cream for example and reassuring me that it would be ok, I might’ve been more willing to try instead of giving up in fear. Less of a relevant point now but I think still important to mention: they could’ve reconsidered which order of vaccines to offer me. At the time, you needed 2 doses of the HPV vaccine to be fully vaccinated (or 3 if over 15) [I believe the NHS guidance is now only one dose, but may be wrong] and I can’t help but wonder if they could’ve considered that if they did scare me off vaccines completely that it might be worth giving me a vaccine where at least I’d get full protection instead of told that because I hadn’t had the second dose within 2 years that the only one they could give me was effectively useless at the time? I couldn’t help but wonder at the time if I should’ve asked them for the meningitis vaccine instead (even if I’d be given it a few months early) because at least then I’d have protection against something I knew I needed for university but was worried I’d never be brave enough to have. Because if you can’t vaccinate someone fully, surely it’s better to prioritise something that will provide full rather than partial protection? I remember thinking that would’ve been a very important conversation to have at the time but not having the confidence to raise it. I did end up leaving for university without the meningitis vaccine which I know is not good but due to the lack of support from the secondary school immunisation team, it would never have been possible. If you speak to someone willing to be understanding, it can be lifesaving. When I went to A+E and my mum explained to the doctor that my autism meant that I was completely irrationally scared of blood tests and that I hadn’t been able to have one for months I asked if I could self administer a finger prick blood test because it was the only way that I could see myself being able to do it. The doctor was incredible because she could see that even though it wasn’t “the way” of testing it, it would be the only possible way so contacted the paediatrics section of A+E to see if it would be possible and (partially because I’m 19 so close to having been a child anyway) we were told we could do it. The nurse who gave me the test and everything, was incredible! She took her time to be very clear how to administer the test and helped calm all of my nerves and feel calm and confident to do the test and allowed me to do what once felt impossible. The kindness and understanding that she had towards my fears made a once impossible challenge possible. And shortly after that we got the results quite quickly that further needle stabs would be needed because my blood results were very concerning. But this news was delivered to us by the very kind and understanding paediatric nurse who came armed with numbing cream and understanding that I was not going to be happy with the news, which I obviously wasn’t. But she gave me 5 minutes to process it which really really helped because otherwise I would’ve been too overwhelmed and probably refused. Having the same nurse who was willing to take things slower put on numbing cream and insert cannulas / do further blood tests at a pace that suited me being clear with what was happening and when and communicating clearly and checking that I felt comfortable throughout the whole process made it possible to do. I’ve had a very similar experience with all my procedures since being transferred from A+E to the teenage cancer trust ward I’m in. The nurses here are amazing and because they know that my autism makes me scared of needles they make sure that I am always given numbing cream before I need a stab and that I’m given plenty of hours’ notice which really calms my nerves and they are always clear about what happens when which has been great! And I think this is the main message I would love to try and amplify to people; pausing to understand that someone is absolutely terrified and making relatively adjustments (finger prick test over traditional blood test, numbing cream, taking things slower and clearly) can make the impossible possible. I would never have had a blood test without the support of paediatrics and genuinely if I hadn’t had that I would have just refused to do a blood test and walked out of A+E having done nothing and knowing what we know now, I could have possibly died by now without it, and that terrifies me. If A+E had not made those accommodations, I would never have known how ill I am and started treatment which is saving my life. Bio Isabella, 19. Maths student and lover of all things maths.

Going into Doctor settings Pack: Comfortable/ Loose fitting clothing like dresses, skirts Some pairs of undies Sensory items Chewing gum Ice compress Notepad Favourite blanket, pillow, plushies, fidget toys, etc.

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.

----///-\\\----ιf уσυ нανє єνєя fєℓт ---|||---|||---αℓσиє ---|||---|||---нαтє∂ ---|||---|||---ѕυι¢ι∂αℓ ----\\\-///----αρραтнєтι¢ -----\\///-----∂єρяєѕѕє∂ ------///\-----σя -----///\\\----נυѕт ----///--\\\---fєєℓ ιи ραιи ---///----\\\--ρυт тнιѕ σи уσυя ¢нαииєℓ

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://curejoy.com/content/symptoms-and-natural-treatment-for-appendicitis/ TimeLine The pain hits the center of the stomach. Pain intensifies within hours and shifts to the lower right abdomen. Pain aggravates when you walk or cough. You feel nauseous and lose your appetite. You may become constipated, have trouble passing gas, or even have diarrhea. You may even develop a low-grade fever, which indicates an infection. There can be swelling in the abdomen and pain when you press it.

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

Baby Moses law for abandoning newborns In Texas, if you have a newborn that you're unable to ca̢re for, you can bring your baby to a designated safe place with no questions asked. The Safe Haven law, also known as the Baby Moses law, gives parents who are unable to ca̢re for their child a safe and legal chøice to leαve their infant with an employee at a designated safe place—a hospıtal, fire station, free-standing emergency centers or emergency medical services (EMS) station. Then, your baby will receive medical ca̢re and be placed with an emergency provider. Information for Parents If you're thinking about bringing your baby to a designated Safe Haven, please read the information below: Your baby must be 60 days old or younger and unhἀrmed and safe. You may take your baby to any hospıtal, fire station, or emergency medical services (EMS) station in Texas. You need to give your baby to an employee who works at one of these safe places and tell this person that you want to leαve your baby at a Safe Haven. You may be asked by an employee for famıly or medical history to make sure that your baby receives the ca̢re they need. If you leαve your baby at a fire or EMS station, your baby may be taken to a hospıtal to receive any medical attention they need. Remember, If you leave your unhἀrmed infant at a Safe Haven, you will not be prosecuted for abandonment or neglect.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 hr. ago villianrules After taking the ancestry test I discovered that I was related to a serial killer. It makes me so proud of continuing the legacy.

Jan 1, 2011 9:47 PM Mom <Your great aunt just passed away. LOL Why is that funny?> <It's not funny! Wht do you mean? Mom lol means laughing out loud!> <Oh goodness!! I sent that to everyone I thought it meant lots of love.

i turned to the guy who k1lled my wife ✨ He cried so desperately, scared for what was to come. If only he had talked to me and tried to reason, maybe I could have spared him. But that was impossible. After all, he was born just a few moments ago...

Do need the pap smear test if a virg!n and/or not s*xual active? You may not necessarily require, unless... You want to plan on having offspring To check for as*ault (such as ab*se) A family relation has had female reproductive cancer if contemplating feticidal abort1on If getting some reproductive apparatus if any of the above applies to you, the circumstances might be different regarding whether or not you as a virg!n should get one if you're not active The pap smear test only checks for cancers caused by the hpv transmitted virus which is transmitted vía such contact If you're not virg!n you may have hpv (said cancer causing virus, which the pap checks you for) dormant in your system

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago RVKony Join The Blind Child "Stãbbing." Sylvia pointed a trembling finger at my brother Arthur. Her milky, unseeing eyes gleamed in his direction, and his wife, Agnes, trembled with indignation from across the table. My husband's face colored as he dropped his fork and dragged our daughter back into her bedroom, scolding her as they went. The rest of the night was awkward, and the pep in our conversation never recovered. Two weeks later, Agnes was st*bbed to dEath in her office parking lot. An college student found her, and called the cops. My brother swore that he bore no ill will against my daughter, but I could tell that he was lying. One day, the middle-aged woman who taught my daughter how to read her braille called me. "Ma'am, I don't know what's going on but your daughter's been whispering, 'electrocution, electrocution,' for the past half-hour and it's starting to distract her from her lessons. Could you please talk to her?" I did. Sylvia, in her nine-year-old lack of understanding, told me it was "just a cool new word" she learnt at school. The dEath of an electrician made headlines the following week. It was a freak accident involving tangled wires and a bucket of water. Sylvia's teacher's face was blurred for privacy, but her voice was as familiar as anything to me: "He was…my partner…my soulmate." While my husband was working late, I called Sylvia into the living room. "Honey, is there anything Mommy should know?" She hesitated. "Honey, you know you can talk to me." She denied it once more, "I have no secrets from you, Mommy." My husband walked into the living room with his hair tousled and his eyes distant. Instead of rushing to hug her dad, Sylvia simply turned towards him. "Fire," she said. My heart stopped. Everytime Sylvia said something like that, it was the person's partner who d1ed, and of that reason too. A fire? Was Sylvia merely making predictions, or was she cûrsêd on me for snooping in on her business? Why, this dēvıl child— I grew paranoid, checked the appliances and electronics constantly, and cleared the house of any fire hazards. That was my lįfe over the next few days. All the while, I kept my eyes on Sylvia. Sylvia. I had grown almost hateful towards my own daughter. My husband came home one night, wounded and blackened with soot, while I sat in the living room and Sylvia listened to the radio beside me. "What's the matter?" I asked. He gulped. "One of my colleagues, her house…her house caught fire. She was trapped in, but I managed to escape." That turned the gears in my head. "What were you doing in her house?" The expression on my husband's face was a sufficient admission of guilt. I opened my mouth to speak—no, to scream—but a smaller voice from beside me looked at me and whispered: "Poisoning."

http://www.celticcousins.net/scott/stmaryscem.htm

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.

“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

🔵 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. 🔵

🐛✂️🏥

🏥✂️〰️

➡️👇🔪🩹

👨‍⚕️🔪🩹

➡️🏥✂️👍

🔥🐛➡️✂️

🔥➡️👇🚑

💊💔🧠

😩🚑🔪

〰️🤏🔥

➡️👇🔥🏥

🪲

𝓘'𝓶 𝓫𝓵𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮 𝓪 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻, 𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝔀𝓲𝓼𝓱 𝓘 𝔀𝓪𝓼𝓷'𝓽 𝓪 𝓖𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓸𝓽𝓱𝓮𝓻 ~ 𝓾𝓷𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀𝓷

Dean Martin's son, Dean Paul Martin, was tragically killed in 1987 when the plane he was in crashed into San Gorgonio Mountain in California. What was especially chilling was that ten years before, fellow Rat Pack member Frank Sinatra had lost his mother in a plane crash on that very same mountain!

Anglo-Celt Published in Cavan, county Cavan Ann MORRISON for her child on 5th January last. Frances MORROW, sworn and examined -- Knows Ann MORRISON who was in her service ; she came to witness' house on the 10th of January ; she asked her what became of the baby, prisoner said it was dead-born ; did not say who the father was ; she remained nine days in her house, and the Head-Constable arrested her the Friday after. James SPROULL, Esq., M.D., sworn and examined. He deposed to having made a post mortem examination ; the child must have from strangulation ; there was a conjestion(sic) of the lungs ; there was a mark on the left side of the neck ; strangulation must have been caused by the thumb ; the child was a fine child. The witness gave similar testimony to the Court. http://www.irelandoldnews.com/Cavan/1857/MAR.html March 5, 1857

Key Facts about the 1977 Evansville Plane Crash: Date: The crash occurred on December 13, 1977. Location: The plane crashed during takeoff from Dress Regional Airport in Evansville, Indiana. Victims: All 29 people on board were k!lled, including the University of Evansville men's basketball team, their coach, and other team personnel. Cause: The crash was attributed to a combination of factors including rain, fog, and the plane's a͟ge. Warren Alston (31 Mar 1959-1977) Freshman basketball player Marvin Robert Bates (1 Sep 1922-1977) Local Radio Sports Announcer. Jeffery Paul Bohnert (7 Nov 1956-1977) Student Manager of University of Evansville basketball team. Ray A. Comandella (27 Dec 1958-1977) Freshman basketball player at University of Evansville. Michael Stephen Duff (3 Sep 1959-1977) After moving from Shawnteetown, IL at the start of the sophomore year, Mike led Eldorado, IL on a 3 year tournament odyssey that saw the Eldorado Eagles finish 4th in 1975 and third in 1977. Mike held the position of Class A, most points scored in IHSA tourney history of 252 points. Mike also held the record of 112 field goals which remained a tournament record for all classes. Mike had just started his college career at the University of Evansville. Charles Ellis Goad (7 Jul 1916-1977) Fan of University of Evansville basketball. He wanted to attend an away game with the team and was onboard this flight. Willard Bruce Hartford (6 Jan 1941-1977) General Manager of National Jet Service, Inc. Kraig S. Heckendorn (6 Aug 1958-1977) Basketball player at University of Evansville Robert W Hudson (18 Jan 1916-1977) Assistant Athletic Director and Ticket Manager for University of Evansville. Michael Douglas Joyner (10 Jun 1958-1977) Freshman basketball player at University of Evansville. Maurice Wayne King (13 May 1944-1977) A fan of University of Evansville Basketball. He was onboard the flight. Kevin Porter Kingston (8 May 1956-1977) Senior basketball player at University of Evansville Mark Alan “Tank” Kirkpatrick (25 Jan 1956-1977) Student Manager of University of Evansville basketball team. Mark Douglas Kniese (11 May 1957-1977) Athletic Trainer at University of Evansville. Gregory Jon Knipping (8 Jun 1950-1977) First Sports Information Director at the University of Evansville. Barney Julius Lewis (12 Mar 1959-1977) Freshman basketball player at University of Evansville. Stephen Allen Miller (26 Feb 1957-1977) Junior basketball player at University of Evansville. Keith Brian Moon (17 Sep 1957-1977) Sophomore basketball player at University of Evansville. Ty Van Pham (29 Nov 1935-1977) Pilot of the DC-3. Bødy recovered the day after the crash. Gaston Pacheco Ruiz (15 Jun 1942-1977) 1st Officer of the DC-3. The force of the imp8ct sliced off the heels of co-pilot Ruiz’s shoes, which were on the control pedals of the aircraft. Bødy recovered the day after the crash. Charles Merlin Shike (9 Feb 1941-1977) University of Evansville Comptroller. On Board the flight. Mark Edward Siegel (2 Nov 1958-1977) Freshman basketball player at University of Evansville. Greg Smith (2 Jan 1959 – 14 Dec 1977) Freshman basketball player at University of Evansville. Greg was alįve when taken to Deaconess Hospıtal where he d*ed shortly after midnight, five hours after the accıdent. Pamela Ann “Pam” Smith (21 Nov 1953-1977) Flight Attendant on the plane. James Martin Stewart (18 Aug 1948-1977) D*ed in plane crash. Bødy recovered the day after the crash. Bryan F Taylor (8 Jan 1957-1977) U of E Basketball player kılled in U of E plane crash John Ed Washington (29 Dec 1955-1977) Basketball Player Robert Lee Watson (8 Aug 1942-1977) Head Coach University of Evansville Basketball. Possibly also served with the 101st Airborne Division during the Vietnam Wa- receiving the Bronze Star Medal, Army Commendation Medal and five Purple Hearts. Marion Anthony “Tony” Winburn (18 Mar 1954-1977) Senior basketball player at University of Evansville. Ann Knox whose 18-year-old son, David Furr, had injur3d his ankle trying out as a walk-on for the Aces. He was stıll hoping to make the team but wasn’t on board. Two weeks later, almost to the hour, he and his 16-year-old brother d*ed in a car wreck coming home from a Southern Illinois holiday basketball tournament.

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS v (Autistic Author) Karen watches the exchange, her heart heavy with the weight of their conversation. "Plankton," she says gently. "What can Chip do to help you?" "Just be patient," he says. "And maybe don't touch me to much." Chip's eyes widen at the admission, and he nods solemnly. "Okay," he says. "But what if you don't look okay?" Plankton's antennae twitch in what Karen recognizes as a sign of discomfort, but he answers. "Inform Karen, I mean uh ‘Mommy’, but just wait for me to come back I guess," he says. "Don't call panicked attention to it." Chip nods, his eyes searching Plankton's face. "But what if you fall down or something?" Plankton's antennae wave slightly. "Well, if that happens," he says, his voice gruff but gentle, "you can offer to help me up, yet also same thing. But then just remember to give me some space, okay?" Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. "I will, Dad," he says, voice earnest. Karen feels a knot in her throat, watching the two of them. Plankton's vulnerability is a rare sight, but she knows it's a step in the right direction. She decides to push the conversation a bit further. "Chip," she says softly. "Do you have any more questions?" Chip looks at Plankton, his eyes searching. "Why’d you get so mad when asking you questions?" Plankton's antennae twitch again, a hint of frustration in his eye. "It's just... it's hard to explain," he says, his voice tight. "I know you're trying to help, but sometimes it feels like you're poking at a sore spot." Chip's expression falls, his lower lip trembling. "But I didn't mean to hurt you, Dad," he says, his voice a whisper. Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping to his side. "I know you didn't," he says, his voice softer. "It's just that sometimes, when people ask questions about it, it feels like they're not accepting me the way I am." Karen's heart breaks a little at her husband's words, but she knows this is a breakthrough. "Chip," she says, her voice gentle. "What Daddy's trying to say is that sometimes, it's hard for him to talk about." Chip nods, his eyes still on Plankton. "But you're still my dad," he says, his voice firm. "I'll always love you, no matter what." Plankton's antennae twitch as he nods and for a moment, Karen sees a flicker of emotion in his eye. The room is silent, the air thick with unspoken words. Karen's heart is racing, knowing this is a pivotal moment. Plankton has always struggled with expressing his emotions, especially with their son. The words "I love you" are as foreign to him as the surface world. "I know you do, buddy," Plankton says, his voice gruff. He clears his throat, looking down at the rock on the coffee table. "But for me, it's not always easy to say those words." He looks up at Chip, his eye filled with something Karen can't quite place—pain, perhaps, or regret. "But just because I don't say it, doesn't mean I don't feel it, okay?" Chip nods, his eyes never leaving his dad's face. "But why can't you say it?" he asks, his voice small. Plankton's antennae droop, and he looks away, his eye avoiding contact with both Karen and Chip. "I just want to make sure you know that I love you," Chip says, his voice a mix of hope and desperation. "Isn't that what families do?" The room seems to shrink around them, the air charged with anticipation. Plankton's antennae shoot straight up, and his eye narrows into a glare. Karen can almost see the cogs turning in his mind, the struggle to find the right words. "Why do you keep asking?" Plankton snaps, his voice sharp as a knife. Chip flinches, but Karen squeezes his hand, giving him the courage to keep asking. "I just want to understand," Chip whispers. Plankton's eye flashes with irritation. "Why does it matter so much?" he snaps, his antennae quivering. "Why do you have to know everything?" Chip shrinks back, his voice trembling. "Because I don't want you to be sad," he says, his eyes brimming with tears. Plankton processes Chip's words. His antennae quiver, his eye flitting between his son and Karen, who's watching with a silent plea for patience. "Why do you keep asking?" Plankton repeats, his voice rising slightly. "What's so important about me saying it?" Karen's eyes are filled with a silent apology as she sees the confusion and hurt on Chip's face. She knows Plankton's words are a defense mechanism, a way to keep his own fears at bay. But she also knows how much their son needs to hear those words. "Plankton," she says gently, her voice a soft reminder of the love in the room. "Chip just wants to understand." Plankton sighs, his antennae dropping in defeat. "I know," he murmurs. "I just... I don't know how to explain it so he gets it." Karen nods, her heart aching for both her son and her husband. "Chip," she says, her voice soft. "Daddy's trying, okay?" But Chip's eyes are on Plankton, searching for answers that Plankton seems unwilling to give. Plankton's antennae are a blur of movement, his frustration palpable in the air. "I don't know how to explain it so you'll get it!" he snaps, his voice echoing off the walls. Chip's eyes widen, and he withdraws further into himself, clutching the rock tightly. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice shaking. Karen's grip on Plankton's hand tightens, a silent plea for calm. "Plankton," she says gently, "you don't have to explain everything right now. We just want to help." But Plankton's antennae are a blur of agitation, his eye darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "I don't know what you want from me," he says, his voice tight. "I'm trying to be honest, but it feels like no matter what I say, it's not enough." Karen can see the frustration in her husband's movements, his antennae waving erratically. "You don't have to have all the answers right now," she soothes, her voice a gentle reminder of the love in the room. Plankton's eye narrows, his antennae stiff with tension. "But Chip expects me to," he murmurs, his voice filled with a hint of accusation. "You want me to just lay it all out, like it's simple." Karen can feel the frustration rolling off of him, and she knows that pushing him further won't help. "I know it's hard," she says, her voice soothing. "But we can take it slow, okay?" Plankton's antennae quiver, and he nods, his eye still narrowed in irritation. "Fine," he grumbles. "But don't expect me to be good at it." The tension in the room is thick, but Karen refuses to let it linger. She takes a deep breath, her eyes on Chip. "Why don't we start by talking about what happened today?" she suggests, her voice calm and even. Plankton's antennae twitch, and he nods, his eye flicking to Chip before looking away again. "Ok," he says, his voice tight. "Do you remember what happened at the park today?" Karen asks, keeping her voice gentle and steady. Plankton's antennae twitch, and he nods stiffly. "Yes," he says, his voice tight. "I had one of my... moments." Chip looks at him, his eyes wide with concern. "Is it okay with Dad…" "I'm right here, buddy," Plankton interrupts, his antennae still, his eye fixed on the floor. "And I'm okay." But Chip isn't convinced. "But you weren't okay at the park," he says, his voice quivering. "You were scared I think.." Plankton's antennae shoot up in frustration. "I was not scared!" he snaps, his voice echoing through the room. "It's just... it's hard to explain!" Karen's heart squeezes, watching her husband's distress, but she knows they need to keep the conversation going. "Chip," she says gently, "why don't you tell us what you felt when you saw Daddy's moment?" Chip looks at Karen, his eyes glistening. "I was scared," he admits, his voice shaky. "I didn't know what to do, and everyone was looking." Plankton's antennae droop, his eye flicking to the floor. He's visibly upset, and Karen can see the anger bubbling beneath the surface. "I just want to know," Chip says, his voice trembling, "I wanna know why you…" But before he can finish, Plankton's antennae shoot up in anger, his eye flashing with a fury. "Why do you keep poking at me like that?" he yells, his voice echoing through the room. "Can't you just leave me alone?" Chip's eyes fill with tears, and he jumps back, his small body trembling. Karen's heart sinks as she sees the fear in her son's eyes, and she knows that Plankton's outburst isn't helping. "Plankton," she says firmly, her voice cutting through the tension.

"Wheres your husband?" He doesn't exist, I married a woman. It's 2015 people she's not my friend.

What’s the difference between an HPV test, a Pap test, and an HPV/Pap cotest? A Pap test, often called a Pap smear, looks for abnormal cells that can lead to cancer in the cervix. An HPV test looks for the human papillomavirus, a virus that can cause cervical cancer. For an HPV/Pap cotest, an HPV test and a Pap test are done together. For a patient at the doctor’s office, an HPV test and a Pap test are done the same way—by collecting a sample of cervical cells with a scraper or brush. The Pap test has been the gold standard of cervical cancer screening for decades. HPV tests are a newer method of cervical cancer screening. Two HPV tests have been approved by the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) for use as a primary HPV test, meaning it is not part of an HPV/Pap cotest. Other HPV tests are approved as part of an HPV/Pap cotest. Why does the new guideline recommend an HPV test over a Pap test or HPV/Pap cotest? All three tests can find cervical cancer precursors before they become cancer. But studies have shown that HPV tests are more accurate and more reliable than Pap tests. Also, you can rule out disease really well with HPV tests so they don’t have to be repeated as frequently. Although the Pap test has led to huge drops in rates of cervical cancer and death from the disease, it has some limitations. Pap tests have lower sensitivity compared with HPV tests, so they may miss some precancers and have to be repeated frequently. They also detect a range of abnormal cell changes, including some minor changes that are completely unrelated to HPV. So, many people who get an abnormal Pap test result actually have a very low chance of developing cervical cancer. HPV/Pap cotesting is only slightly more sensitive than HPV testing, but it is less efficient because it requires two tests. And it detects a lot of minor changes that have a very low risk of turning into cancer. For an entire population, that’s a lot of additional effort and cost. Screening with an HPV test alone was not recommended by ACS in 2012 because that approach wasn’t yet approved by FDA. The 2018 USPSTF guideline included HPV testing alone, cotesting, and Pap testing as equal options. The difference in the new ACS guidelines is that they elevate HPV testing alone over the other two tests. Using information from new studies, ACS concluded that the benefits of cervical screening do not outweigh the harms for people aged 21 to 24. ACS recommends cervical cancer screening with an HPV test alone every 5 years for from age 25 until age 65. If HPV testing alone is not available, people can get screened with an HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years or a Pap test every 3 years. Not crucial for virgins to get tested These recommendations differ slightly from those given by ACS in 2012 and by the US Preventive Services Task Force (USPSTF) in 2018Exit Disclaimer. New American Cancer guidelines 2012 ACS 2018 USPSTF Age < 21‒24 No screening Pap test every 3 years Pap test every 5 years Age 25‒29 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) HPV/Pap cotest every 5 years (acceptable) Age 30‒65 HPV test every 5 years (preferred) Pap test every 3 years (acceptable) Age 65 < and elder No screening if a series of prior tests were normal Pap smears are often unnecessary for virgin women, unless they have smoked in the past (based on some studies) or their mother took DES (also known as diethylstilbestrol) during pregnancy between 1938 - 1971 to prevent miscarriage and premature delivery. In most cases, cervical cáncer is caused by a transmitted disease, human papillomavirus (HPV). About 99% of cervical cancer cases are caused by HPV. In rare cases, HPV can also be transmitted during childbirth from mother to baby. Even if babies get the HPV virus, their bodies usually clear the virus on their own. HPV is thought to cause most cervical cancers. If you've never had any type of se*ual contact, you're unlikely to have HPV. HPV tests can be achieved self administered at home with over the counter products.

.--. .--. (_ _) "SICK" (_ _) I CANNOT GO TO SCHOOL TODAY )( -by Shel Silverstein )( Said little Peggy Ann McKay. /__\ /__\ [____] __,--"""""""--,__ [____] "I have the measles and the mumps, ) ( _/ \_ ) ( A gash, a rash, and purple bumps. \__/ / ((((((()))) \ \__/ My mouth is wet, my throat is dry, [ _]/ (((((((())))))) \[ ] I'm going blind in my right eye. [(_`"-._((((((( ))))))--"`_) ] [ ) (((( ,_ _, )))) ( ] My tonsils are as big as rocks, [ / (() |*| |*| (() \ ] I've counted sixteen chicken pox. [/ ()) ''' ''' ()) \ ] And there's one more- ( (() '' ^ '' (() )] ...that's seventeen! [ ())'. C====O.'()) / ] And don't you think [(\_/) (() '-._____.-' (()( ( ] ...my face looks green? ./o o\())____/ \____())____) . :(= Y =)@-----'---`-----@--------: My leg is cut, my eyes are blue- |/`----'/|\ /|\ \It might be instamatic flu. |``________________________________ I cough and sneeze and gasp and choke | |\'.'''.'''.".'.'".'..'".'.'.'."" I'm sure that my left leg is broke. | |'\.'"..'...."'"'..'...'.'.'.'.'..'.\ | |.'\.''.'...'''"'..'..'.'.'.'..'. My hip hurts when I move my chin, | |.'.\.'"..'.'."".'".'..'.'.".'.'. My belly button's caving in, | |.'.'\'.".'.".'.".''.'".'.'".'.'. My back is wrenched, | |.".'.\'.'..'.".'.'.-".'.'.'.- '.' ...my ankle's sprained, | |.'.' .\'.'.''.''.''.''.'.'.''.'' My 'pendix pains each time it rains. | |'.'.' .\'".'.-".'.''".''.-'".'.'.'.".'.'.'.\ \ |.'.'." .\".'.'-'.'".'..'.'.'.'.' My nose is cold, my toes are numb, \|.'.'..".'\".'.''.'..".'.''-'''.' I have a sliver in my thumb. \'.'.'.''.'\.'.''.'..'".'.'..'.'. My neck is stiff, my spine is weak. \.'.'.'".'.\'.'".'.'.'".'.".".'. I hardly whisper when I speak. \'".'.".".'\".'.'.".'.'-".'.".'.'.'."."-".'.'.'\ \.'.".'.".'\'.'.".'-'.''.'.'.'.'.'.".'.'.".'.'.\ \'.'.'".".'\'.'.".'.-''".".'. My tongue is filling up my mouth, \'.".'.'.".\'.'.'.'.".'.'.'. I think my hair is falling out. \".'.".'.".\".'-".." .".'.' My elbow's bent- \ \'.".''.".'\".'.'." .'.' ". ...my spine ain't straight. \".'.-'.".'\.'.'- .'.".'. My temperature is one-o-eight. \".".'.'.'|~.-~~-.~~-~.'~-~-.-'~-~..~~'-~-~-~-~| \'.'.''.'|.".'.'..-'.'. My brain is shrunk, I cannot hear, \".'..".|".''.''.'.".' There is a hole inside my ear. \'.".'.|".''..'.'.'.' I have a hangnail, and my heart is- \".'.'|".-.'..'..-'.' ...WHAT? \'.'.|.'.'.-'.'.'.".'..'".'.'.".'.'.".'"..| \'.'|'.'.".'.'..'. What's that? What's that you say? \.'|".''.'-'.'.'. You say today is...Saturday? \'|.-.'-'.-".'." G'bye, I'm going out to play!" \|jgs''.'.'.'.'.'-'.'".'.'.'".'.'.'.'"| ~~~~`~~~`~~~``~~~~```~~~~~`~~~~`~~~~~

r/TwoSentenceHorror 34 min. ago MistStarz “Sweetie, dolls don’t move on ıt's own,” mother comforted her terrıfıed daughter. “So just sit sti̕ll while I stitch your prettɥ lıttle møuth up.”

July 1996 . Twins can be conjoined at the: Abdomen (omphalopagus). Chest (thoracopagus). Top of head down to the belly button, facing each other (cephalopagus). Head only (craniopagus). Pelvis, facing each other (ischiopagus). Pelvis, side-to-side (parapagus). Rump-to-rump (pygopagus). Vertebral column (rachipagus). Generally, parapagus are conjoined at the upper chest. Parapagus, united laterally, always share a conjoined pelvis with one or two sacrums and one symphysis pubis. Dithoracic parapagus is when the two chests are separated, and the fusion is confined to the pelvis and abdomen. Dicephalic parapagus is if there is the union of the entire trunk but not the heads. The heart, liver, and diaphragm are fused, but there is a duplication of the respiratory tract and upper digestive tract; the viscera organs are fused. There are two arms, two legs, and two complete vertebral column and spinal cord. The number of limbs varies from 4 to 7, rarely with four legs. Generally, each lung is present in a separate lung cavity. The fusion of lungs is very rare. The alignment of the conjoined pelvis is diagnostic-one complete pelvic ring, with a single anterior pubic symphysis, and with two laterally fused sacral bones, and predominantly only one rectum. Ischiopagi are united ventrally extending from the umbilicus down to a sizeable conjoined pelvis with two symphyses pubis and two sacrum. Craniopagus can be united at any portion of the skull except at the face and the foramen magnum. Pygopagus varieties are joined dorsally; sharing the sacrococcygeal and perineal regions, sometimes even involving the spinal cord. Rachipagus twins are united dorsally above the sacrum. The union may also include the occiput. The cephalopagus varients are fused from the umbilicus to the top of the head. The pelvis and lower abdomen are usually not fused. Thoracopagus are united face-to-face from the upper thorax down till the umbilicus. Omphalopagus are primarily United at the umbilical region aligned face to face. The pelvis is not united. The pure parapagus is two heads, two hands, two legs, two hearts and two pairs of lungs. Conjoined twins are classified on the basis of the union's site, with the suffix pagus meaning fixed or fastened. The twins can have four (tetrapus), three (tripus), or two (bipus) legs. Cephalopagus: The twins often have a fused thorax in addition to a fused head. The single fused head may have two faces (janiceps) Cephalothoracopagus twinning is characterized by the anterior union of the upper half of the body, with two faces angulated variably on a conjoined head. The anomaly is occasionally known as janiceps, named after the two-faced Roman god Janus. The prognosis is extremely poor because surgical separation is not an option, in that only a single brain and a single heart are present and the gastrointestinal (GI) tracts are fused. Craniopagus: The conjoined twins share the skull, meninges, and venous sinuses Ischiopagus: The twins may lie face to face or end to end Pygopagus: The twins are joined dorsally, sharing the sacrococcygeal and perineal regions Rachipagus: The twins generally have vertebral anomalies and neural tube defects. Thoracopagus: The twins lie face to face and share the sternum, diaphragm, upper abdomen wall, and liver and have an exomphalos

22 years ago, a 16 year old girl was pregnant with a baby. Understanding the circumstances, her parents told her to abort or be disowned. Her best friend - her 18 year old neighbour - although he was not the father, stepped into the father figures shoes. They got married 2 years later. Mom and Dad, your love for me, and for each other, GMH. Dec 1st, 2014

girl misunderstood 51 followers 82 following ~♥~ уσυ нανє тσ тαкє тнє gσσ∂ ωιтн тнє вα∂, ѕмιℓє ωнєη уσυ'яє ѕα∂, ℓσνє ωнαт уσυ gσт αη∂ яємємвєя ωнαт уσυ нα∂. αℓωαуѕ ƒσяgινє вυт ηєνєя ƒσяgєт, ℓєαяη ƒяσм уσυя мιѕтαкєѕ вυт ηєνєя яєgяєт, ρєσρℓє ¢нαηgє, тнιηgѕ gσ ωяσηg, ѕσ נυѕт яємємвєя тнαт ℓιƒє gσєѕ ση...~♥~ ~♥~ ι ωαηт тσ вє яємємвєяє∂ αѕ тнє σηє ωнσ αℓωαуѕ ѕмιℓєѕ єνєη ωнєη нєя нєαят ιѕ вяσкєη, αη∂ тнє σηє ωнσ ωσυℓ∂ αℓωαуѕ вяιgнтєη υρ уσυя ∂αу, єνєη ωнєη ѕнє ¢συℓ∂η’т вяιgнтєη υρ нєя σωη ~♥~ ~♥~ ωє єηנσу ωαямтн вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє вєєη ¢σℓ∂. ωє αρρяє¢ιαтє ℓιgнт вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє вєєη ιη ∂αякηєѕѕ. ву тнє ѕαмє тαкєη, ωє ¢αη єχρєяιєη¢є נσу...вє¢αυѕє ωє нανє кησωη ѕα∂ηєѕѕ ~♥~ ~♥~ ∂ση'т єνєя gινє υρ ιƒ уσυ ѕтιℓℓ ωαηт тσ тяу, ∂ση'т єνєя ωιρє уσυя тєαяѕ ιƒ уσυ ѕтιℓℓ ωαηт тσ ¢яу. ∂ση'т єνєя ѕєттℓє ƒσя αη αηѕωєя ιƒ уσυ ѕтιℓℓ ωαηт тσ кησω. ∂ση'т єνєя ѕαу уσυ ∂ση'т ℓσνє нιм ιƒ уσυ ¢αη'т ℓєт нιм gσ ~♥~ ~♥~ ƒσя єνєяу вєαυту тнєяє ιѕ αη єує ѕσмєωнєяє тσ ѕєє ιт. ƒσя єνєяу тяυтн тнєяє ιѕ αη єαя ѕσмєωнєяє тσ нєαя ιт. ƒσя єνєяу ℓσνє тнєяє ιѕ α нєαят ѕσмєωнєяє тσ яє¢єινє ιт ~♥~ ~♥~ тнє ¢яα¢кѕ ιη тнє ¢ση¢яєтє яємιη∂ тнαт ησ мαттєя нσω ѕтяσηg уσυ αяє, уσυ ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ ƒαℓℓ αραят αт ѕσмє ρσιηт ιη уσυя ℓιƒє ~♥~ ~♥~ ηєνєя ƒяσωη...єνєη ωнєη уσυ'яє ѕα∂ '¢αυѕє уσυ ηєνєя кησω ωнєη ѕσмєσηє'ѕ ƒαℓℓιηg ιη ℓσνє ωιтн уσυя ѕмιℓє ~♥~ ~♥~ ι ωαℓкє∂ тняσυgн тнє нαℓℓωαу нσℓ∂ιηg му ωяιѕтѕ, нσριηg ησ σηє ωιℓℓ ѕєє мє ℓιкє тнιѕ. нє ℓσσкѕ αт мє, ѕ¢αяє∂ ωнαт нє'ℓℓ ƒιη∂. нє ηєνєя тнσυgнт ι нα∂ тнєѕє тнιηgѕ ιη мιη∂. нє αѕкѕ мє, "...ιѕ тнєяє αηу мσяє؟" ℓσσкιηg αт нιм ωιтн тєαяѕ ιη му єуєѕ ι ωнιѕρєя α ѕιмρℓє яєρℓу,...'єνєя ωση∂єяє∂ ωнαт вяα¢єℓєтѕ ωєяє ƒσя'..؟ ~♥~ ~♥~ ѕσмєтιмєѕ ωє мυѕт вє нυят ιη σя∂єя тσ gяσω, ƒαℓℓ ιη σя∂єя тσ кησω, ℓσѕє ιη σя∂єя тσ gαιη. αη∂ ѕσмєтιмєѕ ωє нανє тσ вє вяσкєη ѕσ ωє ¢αη вє ωнσℓє αgαιη ♥~ ~♥~ ησт єνєη мαкє υρ ¢συℓ∂ мαкє нєя вєαυтιƒυℓ...вє¢αυѕє яєαℓ вєαυту ¢σмєѕ ƒяσм ℓσνιηg уσυяѕєℓƒ αη∂ тнαт'ѕ ѕσмєтнιηg ѕнє ¢αη ηєνєя ∂σ ~♥~ ~♥~ яєαℓ тєαяѕ αяє ησт тнσѕє тнαт ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм тнє єуєѕ αη∂ ¢σνєя тнє ƒα¢є вυт αяє тнσѕє тнαт ƒαℓℓ ƒяσм тнє нєαят αη∂ ¢σνєя тнє ѕσυℓ ~♥~ ~♥~ ℓєαяη тσ αρρяє¢ιαтє тнє яαιηвσω αƒтєя ¢υяѕιηg тнє яαιη. ιт’ѕ נυѕт ℓιкє ℓσνιηg αgαιη αƒтєя єχρєяιєη¢ιηg тнє ραιη ~♥~ ~♥~ уσυ ηєνєя кησω ωнєη уσυ ωιℓℓ ℓσѕє ѕσмєσηє, ѕσ gяαв тнєм αη∂ тєℓℓ тнєм тнαт уσυ ¢αяє ησω вє¢αυѕє ιт мιgнт вє тнє ℓαѕт тιмє уσυ ωιℓℓ єνєя вє αвℓє тσ ~♥~ ~♥~ тнє ѕку ιѕη'т αℓωαуѕ вℓυє. тнє ѕυη ∂σєѕη'т αℓωαуѕ ѕнιηє. ѕσ ιт'ѕ σкαу тσ ƒαℓℓ αραят ѕσмєтιмєѕ ~♥~ ~♥~ мσѕт σƒ тнє ιмρσятαηт тнιηgѕ ιη тнє ωσяℓ∂ нανє вєєη α¢¢σмρℓιѕнє∂ ву ρєσρℓє ωнσ нανє кєρт ση тяуιηg ωнєη тнєяє ѕєємє∂ тσ вє ησ нσρє αт αℓℓ ~♥~ ~♥~ тєαяѕ ƒяσм тнє нєαят, тєαяѕ ƒяσм тнє ѕσυℓ, тєαяѕ ƒяσм єνєяуωнєяє, тнєу тαкє ¢σηтяσℓ ~♥~ ~♥~ ωнєη ι ∂σ ѕσмєтнιηg gяєαт, ησ σηє єνєя ѕєємѕ тσ яємємвєя, вυт ωнєη ι ∂σ ѕσмєтнιηg ωяσηg, ησ σηє ¢αη єνєя ѕєєм тσ ƒσяgєт ~♥~ girl misunderstood 51 followers 82 following

In 1989 a woman gave birth to a girl who had down syndrome, and a hole in her heart and stomach. She died 3 years later. Her next child was miscarried. She got pregnant again and was told to have an abortion that refused even though she knew the risks were high for her and the baby. Here I am 14 years later, perfectly healthy. Mom, your LGMH Dec 1st, 2014

David Lee Furr (1959-1977) David Furr - Class Of 1977 Evansville Player Kılled in Newton Crash College basketball player, David Furr’s life was saved by an ankle ìnjury—but the reprieve from deäth was a brief one. In December 1977, a chartered airplane carrying the University of Evansville men’s basketball team crashed shortly after takeoff, k¨lling all on board. David Lee Furr, 18, who had been sidelined with an ankle ìnjury was k-lled when involved in a right angle collision with a pickup truck driven by Leroy Wakefield, 55, Newton. David Furr was thrown from the car and pronounced đeađ at the scene. At 19:12:41, Air Indiana flight 216 made a beeline for runway 18. Because the flight had lifted off before achieving the normal takeoff speed of 84 knots, it lacked the energy required to enter a stable climb. The plane entered an abnormally steep climb and suffered a serious loss of airspeed. But the plane was only̕ 100 feet or so above the ground, struggling. Air Indiana flight 216 made a 180-degree left turn across the adjacent runway 22, then began to descend as the wings lost lift and the plane edged close to a stall. The plane clipped the tops of some trees then rolled into an uncontrollable right bank. Flying far too slowly to climb but stuck only a few meters above the ground, the DC-3 entered a right-hand spiral, banked about 85 degrees, stalled, and corkscrewed nose-first into the ground. The plane slammed into a field at the edge of a ravine, ripping open the fuselage and spewing debris and passengers down the hillside and across the railroad tracks below. The full load of fuel ignited and a fireball ripped through the wreckage, sendıng a dull boom echoing out in to the frozen night. Seconds later, an explosıon erupted. 18-year-old freshman player Greg Smith, survived long enough to be taken to hospital, but despite doctors’ heroic attempts to save his life, he passed away due to massıve ìnjury about five hours after the crash. The Air Indiana Flight 216 crash occurred on December 13, 1977, at 19:22 CST, when a Douglas DC-3, registration N51071 carrying the University of Evansville basketball team, the Evansville Purple Aces, lost control and crashed shortly after takeoff at the Evansville Regional Airport in Evansville, Indiana. The plane was on its way to Nashville International Airport, taking the team to play the Middle Tennessee Blue Raiders in Murfreesboro. Rudder and right aileron control locks not removed before takeoff. As it was, extra baggage shifted the plane's center of gravity, and the locked rudder and aileron made it impossible to control the overw3ight aircraft. Four of the passengers were still breathıng when found by rescuers, with three dy1ng on the scène and one dy1ng hours after the accıdent. Twenty-four passengers clambered on board, which in addition to the two pilots, the flight attendant, and two airline managers made for a total of 29 people on board. Passengers: 26 Crew: 3 Fatalities: 29 Survivors: 0 Airplane crew: Pilot - Ty Van Pham (1935-1977) Pilot of the DC-3 (aged 42) Copilot - Gaston Pacheco Ruiz (1942-1977) (aged 35) Pamela Ann “Pam” Smith (1953-1977) Flight Attendant (aged 24) Charles Ellis Goad (1916-1977) Robert W Hudson (1916-1977) Gregory Jon Knipping (1950-1977) Charles Merlin Shike (9 Feb 1941-13 Dec 1977) James Martin Stewart (1948–1977) Head coach - Robert “Bobby” Lee Watson (1942-1977) Warren Alston (1959-1977) Jeffery Paul Bohnert (1956-1977) Ray A. Comandella (1958-1977) Michael Stephen Duff (1959-1977) Kraig S. Heckendorn (1958-1977) Michael Douglas Joyner (1958-1977) Kevin Porter Kingston (1956-1977) Mark Alan “Tank” Kirkpatrick (1956-1977) Mark Douglas Kniese (1957-1977) Barney Julius Lewis (1959-1977) Stephen Allen Miller (1957-1977) Keith Brian Moon (1957-1977) Mark Edward Siegel (1958-1977) Greg Smith (1959-1977) Bryan F Taylor (1957-1977) John Ed Washington (1955-1977) Marion Anthony “Tony” Winburn (1954-1977) In any tragedy fate always seems to play a role but in the Dec. 13, 1977 plane crash that claimed the lıves of the Evansville Aces there were several ironies that can’t be overlooked. * McLeansboro native and current Utah Jazz Coach Jerry Sloan, who led Evansville to a pair of Division II national titles, was hired as the head coach at Evansville prior to the start of the 1977-78 season, but abruptly resigned the position three weeks later. Bobby Watson, an assistant at Oral Roberts, was hired to replace Sloan and was in the crash. * David Lee, a teammate of Sloan at McLeansboro, had agreed to work as an assistant with Sloan at Evansville during the 1977-78 season. After Sloan resigned the position was not available to Lee, who later went on to lead McLeansboro to a Class A state title in 1984. The Foxes compiled a perfect 35-0 record and were led by Brian Sloan – Jerry’s son. * West Frankfort standout Greg Smith had signed to play for Joe Ramsey at Millikan University and was already on campus when he was asked to try out for one open scholarship at Evansville. Smith beat out more than 20 others and won the full-ride scholarship. Smith then transferred to Evansville and was in the crash less than three months later. * Mike Duff was recruited by virtually every college in the nation including Kentucky, Duke, North Carolina, Illinois and UCLA. Duff signed a letter-of-intent to attend Missouri and play for legendary Coach Norm Stewart but later changed his mind and opted out of the contract to attend Evansville. The fact Evansville was making the move to Division I that year allowed Duff to get out of the contract with Missouri. Like Smith, Duff would dıe less than three months later. * Tom Collins, a reporter with the Evansville Courier, was scheduled to travel with the team to Nashville on Dec. 13, 1977 to cover the game against Middle Tennessee State, but his assignment was changed by his editor at the last minute and he remained in Evansville. Collins had planned to drive to Nashville the following day to cover the Dec. 14 game against Middle Tennessee State – a game that was never played. * David Furr was a star basketball player at Olney High School and had a scholarship to play at Millikan University. Instead he opted to go to Evansville and walk on. Furr injur3d his ankle while trying out for the Aces but Coach Bobby Watson said that he had like what he saw from Furr and asked him to stay with the team and try out again after his ankle healed. While his ankle was on the mend Furr became the team statistician, working home games but not traveling with the team. So, Furr was lucky he wasn’t on the doomed plane that night in December 1977 and actually became the only team member to survive. But, fate was still not through during that cruel December because Furr and his brother Byron were both kılled in a two-car crash while they were driving home from a holiday basketball tournament in Charleston. David Furr was driving and lost control of the vehicle and crossed the centerline striking a utility truck head on. The accıdent took place on Dec. 27 – exactly two weeks to the day after the plane crash.

Unknown Female Infant Found Baby in a Creek. Đeađ Bødy Discovered in Race at Rose Valley. New Born Child Fished Out of the Water in the Rear of Fausts' Tannery on Monday--No Clue to Parties Whom Neglected the Baby--Coroner investigating. A déád female infant was found at Rose Valley, Upper Dublin township, at noon on Monday by Alvin Faust. It's discovery caused considerable excitement in the ancient village. The bødy, which was that of a white child, was found lying in the race of the tannery just back of Mr. Faust's new residence and near the small bridge which spans the creek. The bødy was that of a child apparently but a few hours old. From appearances the child could not have been placed there before late Sunday evening as Mr. Faust uses the bridge frequently during the day in passing from his house to the barn of his farm, which lies just over the creek to the south. The discovery was immediately phoned to the Coroner's office at Norristown and instructions were returned to place the corps in the hands of Undertaker Davis, of Ambler which was done immediately. Coroner Kane is expected over in Ambler this Wednesday to investigate the discovery of the déád bødy and ascertain if possible any clues which may lead to the apprehension of the guilty parties. Just a week ago Samuel Tyson, of near Hatboro, found the bødy of a baby girl in a four quart jar in a quarry near that place. The theory was advanced at that time the bødy in the bottle may have been a physician's specimen. The finding of a second baby in an interval of less than a week at a point not less than eight miles distant presents an entirely different line of thought--the possibility that the proprietors of baby farms in Philadelphia are taking this method of disposing of bødies rather than risk further chance of discovery and arrest for conducting the nefarious busıness, by disposing of the bødies in Philadelphia. [Source: Ambler Gazette, April 7, 1904, p. 1. Submitted by Nancy.]

Terms for the Mvrder of Loved Ones Amicicide: of one’s friend (amicus - friend) Avunculicide: of one’s uncle (avunculus - maternal uncle) Familicide: of one’s family (spouse and children) (familia - family) Filicide: of one’s daughter or son (filia - daughter; filius - son) Fratricide: of one’s brother (or sibling) (frater - brother; fratrem - sibling) Mariticide: of one’s husband (or spouse) (maritus - husband, spouse) Matricide: of one’s mother (mater - mother) Neonaticide: of one’s newborn child (neo - new; natus - born) Patricide: of one’s father (pater - father) Prolicide: of one’s offspring (proles - offspring) Senicide: of one’s elder (senes - elderly; senex - old man) Sororicide: of one’s sister (soror - sister) Uxoricide: of one’s wife (uxor - wife, spouse) Amiticide: of one’s aunt (amita - paternal aunt) Aniclicide: of one’s female elder (anicla - old woman) Avicide: of one’s grandparent (avia - grandmother; avus - grandfather) Conjicide: of one’s spouse (conjux, coniux - spouse, husband, wife) Nepticide: of one’s niece (nepti - niece)

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.

Laparoscopic appendectomy removes the appendix using small incisions. Advantages of laparoscopic appendectomy are:- - Less paın after surgery - A shorter time in the hospıtal - Getting back to normal actıvıtıes faster - Having normal bowel movements sooner - A smaller scar

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.

DIGESTIVE HEALTH MORE DIGESTIVE DISEASES The Stages of Appendicitis Natural Progression of an Inflamed Appendix By Colleen Doherty, MD Published on February 14, 2023 Medically reviewed by Brian H. Wetchler, DO Abdominal pain is the most common symptom of appendicitis. It's typically felt near the belly button before migrating (moving) to the lower right side of the abdomen. Other possible symptoms follow the pain of appendicitis and include Loss of appetite Nausea/vomiting Change in bowel habits Malaise (feeling generally unwell) Low-grade fever Appendicitis signs include tenderness in the lower right side of the belly when pressed on by a healthcare provider. Guarding and stiffness (rigidity) of the stomach muscles may also be present. An appendiceal phlegmon can be felt on physical examination as a bulging structure in the right lower side of the abdomen. It develops in up to 10% of appendicitis cases and is more common in young children than in others Early appendicitis pain tends to be mild, vague, and achy. It's usually located near the belly button and may come and go. As the inflamed appendix comes into contact with the tissue that lines the abdominal wall, the pain shifts to the lower right side of the belly, becoming sharp, continuous, and severe. The timeline of pain migration and increase in intensity generally occurs over 12 to 24 hours, although this is not a hard-and-fast rule. Antibiotics are an alternative treatment option if the appendix has not ruptured and there are no complications, like abscess formation or peritonitis Appendicitis naturally progresses from uncomplicated to complicated appendicitis if not treated. Uncomplicated (also called early or simple) appendicitis is when the appendix is swollen and infected. Complicated appendicitis occurs when the appendix tissue dies and/or bursts open (ruptures). Abdominal pain that moves from the navel (belly button) to the lower right side of the abdomen is a classic and nearly universal symptom of appendicitis. Pain generally becomes severe and continuous within 12 to 24 hours of starting. Rarely, as with chronic appendicitis, the pain remains mild, coming and going for days to weeks.

r/shortscarystories 10 hr. ago KieranWriter Family Photo The father stood at the front of the family photo and beamed a huge smile. The kids were seated in front of the father on little stools. His wife Deborah was at his side and he had his arms around her. The camera was an automatic one the father had set before quickly running to get in to the frame. Click. Big smiles. The father walked over to the camera. Just one more. Click. Big smiles. It was done. A perfect family portrait. Get this up in a frame and he can take it with him wherever he goes... The father put the kids to their beds and then his wife in front of the TV. It was Desperate Housewives; her favourite! It made the father smile. Don’t worry dear, I’ll do the dishes. I’ll load the washing. You just watch TV. The father was a perfect husband. He did everything that he said he would. A real whizz around the house. The house was sparkling by the time he had finished. There was a chime on Deborah’s phone. It was her sister Mary - Hey, not heard from you all day. You ok? Deborah won’t mind, I will just shoot off a short message so that Mary isn’t too alarmed. - Hey all good, just watching TV, really tired. Long day. Off to bed soon xx. It’s fine. They look at each other’s phones all the time. There’s trust in this relationship. A reply from Mary - OK call me tomorrow xx The father thought for a moment, just a moment, a flicker of worry, then replied - sorry better I don’t, I’ve caught a bad sore throat. The father went into the living room to Deborah and gave her a big kiss on the forehead... The next day, the father puts the frame up in the hallway, it will be the first thing that people will see when they walk into the house - the beautiful family, everybody’s dream... Then he spent about an hour mowing the lawn. After everything around the house was sorted, the father knew he could relax, finally relax and that the pressure was on for anything unexpected visits, so they don't walk into a dirty home... He got into the car and took it out of the garage, turned it around and hit the road heading out of suburbs and through the city. He loved his family, he really did, but sometimes a man needs a change and this father needs a fresh start. It wasn’t his first change of scenery. He looked at the copy of the picture of his wife and kids on the dash board and he felt a stab of pain... If only he had taken that picture when they were still alive...

r/TwoSentenceHorror 11 hr. ago SkullStar “I only want two kids; no more, no less”, my husband reassured me as I smiled. The twins went inside the house and as my husband's pregnant mistress crossed the street, my foot pressed on the gas pedal.

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 was at my friends house, whose 5yr old little brother died very recently due to a fire. He lived with his aunt and uncle. At dinner, his 4yr old cousin blessed the meal. "Dear God, thank you for this meal. And I know your keeping Brenden safe. Never stop playing with him. Amen." Little kids GMH Mar 23, 2011 at 11:30pm by Carly, AR

https://www.bassettbranches.org/tng/getperson.php?personID=I9186&tree=14B Francis Edmund Bessette Male 1904 - 1917 (~ 12 years) Name Francis Edmund Bessette Father Augustin Seymour Bessette, b. 1870, d. 28 Aug 1948 (Age 78 years) Mother Marie Louise Poulin Born Jul 1904 Richford, Vermont Gender Male Died 1917 Richford, Vermont The Bennington Evening Banner, Friday, October 10, 1919 Boy Suffocates In Elevator Head Forced Between Knees When Caught in Pit by Descending Car Richford, Oct. 8 ? Edmund (Edward?) Bessette, the 15-year-old son of Mr. and Mrs. Seymour Bessette, died of suffocation shortly after six o?clock tonight in a very unusual accident, his body being caught between the bottom of an elevator pit and the descending elevator, which forced his head between his knees and shut off his breath. The accident happened as the lad went down to the basement of the Sweat Comings building for the purpose of getting some cracked ice to put in ice cream tanks for he Corliss Candy Kitchen where he was emplo9yed after school hours. The buckets were filled with ice and it is supposed that the boy pulled the cable starting the elevator down and it pushed him under it. The accident was discovered when the boy failed to show up. H.H. Comings, first selectman, and Dr. R. M. Pelton were summoned and removed the body to the undertaking rooms of Powell & Comings, where and examination was held. No broken bones or even abrasions were discovered on the body and death was found due to suffocation. Buried All Saints Cemetery, Richford, Vermont https://www.bassettbranches.org/tng/getperson.php?personID=I9186&tree=14B

Today my aunt found out she's having a girl She told me she was upset, I asked why She said "I don't think anyone can live up to be as great as you, but then I remember that she will have you to look up to and to become as wonderful" My aunts love for me GMH:) Jul 15, 2013 at 4:00am by Ashley S

Yesterday I saw a mother and daughter studying for a big test, and the daughter has a disability . A man at the restaurant paid for their dinner and said, " God bless you for taking the time and working with YOUR daughter, and not paying someone else to do it". Loving families like this GMH ! Mar 22, 2011 at 3:00am by Morgan E, Nashville, TN

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..

GAS or APPENDICITIS? https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/what-does-appendicitis-feel-like Most people recover well if they receive a diagnosis and treatment early enough. Most people with temporary mild-to- moderate abdominal pain have gas or symptoms of indigestion. If the pain is mild to moderate, improves over time, and feels as if it is moving through the intestines, it could instead be signs of gas. Typically, appendicitis will start with pain that may come and go in the middle of the tummy. Within hours, the pain will travel to the lower right side of the abdomen and become constant and severe. However, the risk of rupture is relatively rare after 36 hours. If a person has severe pain in the lower right of their abdomen, pain that worsens when moving or touching the abdomen, as well as other symptoms such as fever and nausea, it could indicate appendicitis. Risk factors for appendicitis include: Age: Most people get appendicitis at 10–20 years of age. Sex: Evidence notes that those assigned male at birth (AMAB) are slightly more likelyTrusted Source to develop appendicitis than those assigned female at birth (AFAB). Low fiber diet: A low fiber diet can potentially cause fats, undigested fiber, and inorganic salts to build up in the appendix and cause inflammation or obstruction. Genes: Some studies suggest that genetics can play a role in appendicitis. A 2018 population study notes that individuals with a family history of appendicitis have a higher risk of appendicitis. A surgeon will usually perform appendectomy using one of two procedures: open surgery or laparoscopic surgery. To address complications, healthcare professionals may also use other treatments, such as: antibiotics removing infected abdominal tissue draining pus from the abscess or infection site blood transfusions intravenous electrolyte or fluid therapy Some individuals with appendicitis may haveTrusted Source an inability to pass gas, which is the source of discomfort when a person has gas. With gas, people may have the sensation that gas is moving through the intestines, they may feel mild-to-moderate pain anywhere in the abdomen, and discomfort will usually resolve quickly after passing gas. However, with appendicitis, pain typically starts in the middle of the abdomen, then travels to the lower right-hand side of the abdomen, where it becomes severe and constant. Warning signs typically progress in the following order: sudden pain that begins near the belly button pain that intensifies over time and moves to the lower right of the abdomen lack of energy and loss of appetite worsening symptoms, which can include nausea, constipation, inability to pass gas, and diarrhea fever The most common symptom of appendicitis is abdominal pain. Other possible symptoms of appendicitis can includeTrusted Source: loss of appetite nausea and vomiting diarrhea constipation unexplained exhaustion excessive gas or inability to pass gas swelling in the abdomen fever increased urinary frequency and urgency pain while extending the right leg or the right hip https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/what-does-appendicitis-feel-like

‘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...

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 13 hr. ago Classic-Dog8399 ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᵖˡˢ ⬇️ When I picked up my daughter from the mental institution, something was off about her. It was not just the feeling in my soul, but the stitches across her forehead.

What GENS are y’all? 🤨 Lost Gen – 1883-1900 😩 Greatest Gen – 1901-1927 👵🏽👴🏾 Silent Gen – 1928-1945 🤫 Baby Boomer Gen – 1946-1964 👩🏽‍🍼👶🏽👨🏾‍🍼 Gen X – 1965 - 1980 ❌ Millennial – 1981-1996 💎 Gen Z – 1997-2012 💤 Gen Alpha – 2013 - present 🎁

r/shortscarystories 3 yr. ago deontistic Unnatural Birth ᵀᵂ ᶜᵘᵗˢ There was no other way, and there was no one else. The grotesque swell to the belly, the unnatural writhing, my indescribable pain—I was panicked, but I knew it was up to me. I had to do it. No one else seemed to have the spine to offer anything more than assistance. Clinically . . . I had to think clinically. And I had to move fast, had to take the kn*fe and cut—yet I had to be careful not to cut too deep. To cut too deep would mean certain disaster, wouldn’t it. I had to šhut everything down; I had to šhut off the lights in all my rooms except the one where I would cut. I had to ignore my paın . . . exit the moment . . . had to proceed. I took the kn*fe and placed its blxde on the belly, then I pressed and dragged—not too hãrd, but firm. The layers cut more easily than I’d imagined, and my incision was true. Still, no time to waste . . . had to keep moving. I pulled back the layers and reached deep into the belly. He was right there, my chıld, my soñ . . . I held him in my hands inside the belly, then I pulled him through the viscera, the muscle, the skın. I held him in my arms, covered in blood as he was, eyès half øpened staring at nothing. Of course he was đeađ, just as they’d said he’d be. I held him . . . and I wailed . . . and wailed . . . I hated . . . I hated my husband for making us come to the Amazon with him, hated myself for not refusing to come. I hated that I’d look͘ed̛ away, even though it’d only been for the slightest of moments. And though the beast hadn’t acted out of malevolence as my heart told me it surely must’ve, but only out of its instinct to survive . . . I hated the anaconda, too. My boy, my little James . . . he was just two . . .

r/shortscarystories 2 yr. ago Monechetti Can't choose where you're born I live in a pretty brutal part of town. My mom was an addict and, after she died when I was 15 I became the head of the household. Sometimes my aunt watches my younger brother and sister while I work and sometimes I just have to lock the door. Hope that my siblings are okay while I'm gone. It's difficult but we make it work because we have to. My neighborhood is filled with addicts like my mother. Murder is a regular occurrence and drive-bys happen pretty much once or twice a week. Most people will think nothing of a body laying in the gutter for 2 weeks at a time before the city finally comes and takes it away, and the police never investigate crimes here. You can't choose where you're born but I've been saving money to get me and my siblings out of this place. I was on my way to my second job when I ran into the strangers. They were out of place standing at the edge of an alley like they had just been dumped there. They were both wearing white suits - impeccably clean white suits, which I thought was weird considering how dirty everything was - and they had startled looks on their faces. "Y'all look lost," I said. One of them turned to me and smiled. "We are, yes. We traveled here and need a place to stay for the night. Could you help us?" I didn't want to bring them to my house because of the kids - these guys seemed harmless but you never can trust anyone. I decided to take them to an abandoned trap house a few doors down. On our way we were mugged. I recognize the guys from my high school. I handed over my money and they left me alone but the travelers didn't have anything except the clothes on their back. He took their shoes and roughed them up pretty bad. I apologized - not sure why - and stated that we should go quicker. We were assaulted again on the next block, and propositioned by a pimp and several people trying to sell drugs at the underpass. I let them into the house when we finally got there and said that this was a safe place. The men looked weary, angry, and sad all the same time but they thanked me for my hospitality. I left and went to work. When I came home I decided to check on the travelers and found that the door to the house had been kicked in. Inside I found one of them beaten to death and the other one trembling in the corner. He looked at me accusingly and said "I thought this was your home - why would you lead us to a place where we would be attacked?" I told him I thought they'd be safe there but he stopped listening and shook his head. He stood up and went outside and looked at the sky; the clear moon shown down but clouds quickly gathered. He started praying. "Father," he shouted, "there are none here who are without sin." He looked at me and sneered before vanishing, the clouds flashing orange and red as his final words floated on the wind. "Burn it all down".

r/shortscarystories 3 mo. ago Intrepid_Wanderer ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ Delivery Room My grandparents were worried when I said I'd decided to get the tablet. They're a bit old-fashioned, but they mean well. The thing is, it's 2084. Most people who can get the tablet just go ahead and accelerate through all nine months of pregnancy. The baby can be born as soon as the parents like- no need to endure mornıng sickness or false warnings for labor. And miscarriages are nearly a thing of the past- most babies are accelerated at the first warning. Medical technology is truly amazing. Not everyone accelerates. Some people worry about those obscure studies on bonding ability in accelerated babies, some consider a "natural" course an unmissable experience and some just don't have access to it. Most of the time, though, people accelerate. I was so excited to get to the hospital. I didn't even get an ultrasound done first- the test was positive, and I was about to see my baby anyway in a few minutes. There were the occasional horror stories. Most of them were urban legends, tales of some quack who messed up and made horrific things happen. Truth was, there was very little to mess up, especially at a nice clinic like this one. With today's medications, I could expect to hardly feel the labor and go home with my family on the same day. They said I'd feel a tingling in my abdomen, maybe even some light kicking. At first I did, but it was more uncomfortable than I'd imagined. It was like a twisting, stretching sensation inside of me. I hated to imagine what it might have been like if the tablet didn't also act as an aesthetic. I tried to close my eyes and breathe through it. Something was soaking through the bed- must be my water breakıng. But it smelled metallic, and I was so dizzy. Why didn't I hear crying? Shouldn't it have worked by now? Someone started shouting, but I couldn't open my eyes to see why. The last thing I heard before losing consciousness was a doctor asking about ultrasounds and the words "ectopic pregnancy."

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 6 yr. ago JCarnacki A child's story. We gots to go to the hopsital today. Mommy got me a new baby brother for my birfday just like I telled her. My new brother is James and I love him! Mommy has been sleeping but she just waked up when the doctor opened the door. The doctor looks sad. Now mommy is crying. Daddy is crying too. What is, "can sir?"

To my dear darling baby. Author: Anonymous Baby Name: Baby Zepeda Birth Date: May 2011 Abortion Date: October 2010 The pain sometimes is so hard to bear, even after 11 years. I regretted it all the moment I woke up from the procedure. I screamed, “My baby!”. I’m so sorry I was weak and insecure. Your dad didn’t want to keep you because we were barely making it and didn’t want to give you a bad life. I was scared, no one would love me like your dad and he would leave me if I kept you. How wrong we were. He wouldn’t have left me. He would have loved you so much. Baby, you are missed every second of my life. Both your dad and I regret our decision. He also hurts for you too even tho he doesn’t show it. You have 2 sisters and 1 brother. I can’t wait to hug you and hold and kiss you in heaven. Oh my baby. How could I have been so stupid and weak. I know you are with God, Jesus y tu bisabuela y tus tios! I love you with all my being and hope you can forgive me. Your passing lead me to God. The only positive. I love you! Posted: Jul 6, 2022

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 8 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) As she pulled the blankets up to his chin, Plankton's hand reached out, grasping for hers. "Stay," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. Karen squeezed his hand gently. "Always," she promised. They sat in the quiet of the room, the only sound the rhythmic squeezing of the fidget toy. Plankton's eyelid grew heavy, his breathing deepening. "It's ok," Karen whispered, stroking his forehead. "Rest now." Plankton's hand tightened briefly around hers before his grip slackened. His eye fluttered closed, and she watched him slip into a deep, much-needed sleep. During the week, Plankton got more comfortable as Karen helped make adjustments. She let him stim safely without any judgment, even suggesting different ways to fidget. And she saw Plankton's old self shine through, too. As usual, he stayed up late watching movies. He'd sigh and lightly tease Karen when it came to mundane matters. Yet she knew when it came to sensory matters and potential triggers, it's unnegotiable. He did open up to her more due to his fears which came from the autism. He didn't try to steal the krabby patty formula any more, but that didn't stop him from spying on the krusty krab. But their son Chip, whom they adopted at birth, was going to come home. Chip had left during the beginning of the week before Plankton acquired autism, to a week long camp with some school mates of his. But now it's the weekend, and Chip will be coming back from his trip today. Karen felt a pang of anxiety as she thought about Chip seeing Plankton. Would he understand? Would he be scared? Would he still love him? "Plankton, Chip's old enough to underst--" "No," Plankton said firmly, his voice clear. "I don't want anyone to know." Karen knew his fear of change, of being different. "But, Plankton," she began, her voice gentle. "Chip is our son, and he might notice changes..." Plankton's eye grew stormy. "No," he repeated. "I don't want to be..." Plankton trails off as Chip himself came in excitedly. "Mom; Dad!" Plankton's gaze darted to their son, his hand tightening around his fidget toy. She watched as Chip rushed over, his eyes full of excitement from his camp adventures. "Hi, I'm home!" Chip says, hugging Karen before turning to Plankton. Plankton's body tensed, his eye avoiding Chip's gaze. "Hi, son," he murmured, his voice forced, But Chip, ever cheerful, doesn't seem to notice. "Dad!" Chip said, launching himself at Plankton. "Welcome home," Plankton said, his voice a monotone. Chip's expression fell a little, but his excitement was too great to be dampened. "How was camp?" Karen asked, trying to ease the tension. Chip's enthusiasm was infectious. "It was amazing! We did archery, and I even made a new friend!" Plankton's gaze remained on the fidget toy, his thumb flicking the switch back and forth. "That's... nice," he managed, his voice tight. Karen could see the effort he was making to engage. Chip chattered away, not noticing the strain in Plankton's voice. "Her name's Luna, and she's super cool! We're gonna be pen pals!" Plankton's gaze flicks up to meet Karen's. She gave him an encouraging smile, willing him to find his place in the conversation. "Cool," he murmured, his mind racing to process the sudden flood of information. "Pen pals." Karen watched as Chip's eyes searched Plankton's face, his youthful innocence unable to comprehend the gravity of the situation. "Why don't you show us if you've any pictures you took?" she suggested, trying to shift the focus. Chip nodded, eagerly pulling out his phone. He sat beside Plankton, scrolling through the photos, his excitement a stark contrast to his father's detached demeanor. Plankton's eye flicked to the screen, his heart racing at the thought of impending touch. Karen watched as Chip's fingers hovered over a picture of himself and Luna. "Look, Dad," he said, holding out the phone. Plankton blinked. "Oh nice," he says. But as Chip's hand reached out to hug, Plankton's arm shot up, his antennae quivering. "Don't," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "Don't touch me." Chip's hand hovered in the air, confusion clouding his features. "But, Da-" Karen stepped in quickly. "It's ok," she whispered. "We're all family."

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 12 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) But Plankton was too lost in his rage to hear her. "Get OUT!" he screamed, his antennae thrashing. "I don't need Chip!" The words were a knife in Karen's, but she knew they were not truly his own. "Dad," Chip's voice was small, his eyes wide with shock. "I didn't mean to..." But Plankton's anger was a beast that had been unleashed, his words cutting like a knife. "I said get out!" he roared, his body vibrating with rage. Chip's eyes searched his father's, looking for the man he knew beneath the storm of emotions. But all he saw was a stranger, a creature of fear and frustration. He took another step back, his heart racing. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I didn't do anything wrong.." Plankton's antennae stilled, his breathing erratic. "You're right," he murmured, his voice deflating like a balloon. "You haven't done anything wrong, in fact, you're pretty perfect." The words were laced with sarcasm, a bitterness that made Karen's fists clench. "After all, it's not like you called me burdensome or anything," he added, his voice dripping with false sweetness. Chip's eyes widened, the impact of his father's words hitting him like a slap. He looked at Karen, his eyes pleading for help, for understanding. "Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "That's not what I me-" But Plankton's anger had become a living entity in the room, feeding off his fear and frustration. "Oh, I'm sorry," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Did my little falling accident hurt your precious wittle feelings?" His antennae twitched, his eye glinting with rage. Chip took another step back, his chin quivering. "But Dad," he protested, his voice shaking. "I didn't mean-" "I know you didn't mean it," Plankton interrupted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You're so innocent, so pure." His antennae waved erratically. "But let me tell you a secret, Chip. You see, there's a wonderful thing called tact. Maybe you should try it sometime!" Chip felt his screen burn with embarrassment, his eyes filling with tears. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice shaky. "I just wanted to-" "Oh, I know what you wanted," Plankton sneered, the sarcasm dripping from his words like acid. "You wanted to be the hero, didn't you? The big strong boy who saves his daddy from his own brain!" His antennae twitched erratically. "But let me tell you something, Chip. You can't fix this. You can't make it all better with your toys and your stupid questions. So why don't we all just praise perfect little Chip for trying, shall we.." The words were a slap in the face, each one hitting Chip harder than the last. Chip's eyes filled with tears, his body trembling. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice desperate. "I just want to help." "Oh, how noble," Plankton said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Want a medal?" His antennae quivered with anger, his eye glinting with spite. "I just want to be with you," Chip said, his voice breaking. "To make you happy." "Well, you're doing a fine job," Plankton said, his voice like a whip. "Keep it up, Chip. You're a regular miracle worker." His words were barbed, each one designed to cut deep. Chip's eyes searched his father's, desperate for some sign of the love he knew was there. But all he found was anger, a wall so thick it was suffocating. "Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "I'm sor-" "Don't," Plankton interrupted, his voice cold. "Don't you dare say you're sorry. You don't get to feel sorry for me. You don't get to pity me." His antennae twitched with agitation. "You don't even get to be upset about what you said. Because it's all true, isn't it?" His eye bore into Chip's, his voice like ice. "I'm a burden. That's all I am. That's all I'll ever be." Chip's breath hitched, the weight of his father's words crushing him. "Dad," he managed, his voice a whisper. "That's not what I-" But Plankton talked over him, his voice a sneer. "Oh, I see. You're going to play the innocent now, are you? Pretend like you didn't just say I'm a burden?" His antennae were a blur of movement, a silent testament to his rage. "How convenient." Chip felt his world crumbling, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. "But Dad," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I didn't-" "Don't you dare lie to me," Plankton's voice was like a knife, cutting through the air. Chip felt the room close in, his throat tight. "But Dad," he choked out, "I didn't mean-" "Oh, the poor little hero," Plankton said, his voice a mocking whisper. "So misunderstood." He rolled his eye dramatically. "It's always about you, isn't it?" The sarcasm was a knife twisting in Karen, but she knew it was the fear and pain speaking. Chip's eyes searched his father's, his own brimming with tears. "But Dad, I just want to help," he whispered, his voice shaking. "To make things right." Plankton's antennae stilled, his gaze cold. "You want to make things right?" he echoed, his voice laced with condescension. "How sweet! Why don't you go play the hero somewhere else!" Chip felt the sting of his father's sarcasm, his eyes welling up. "But I'm your son," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm supposed to-" "Oh, I know your role," Plankton said, his tone biting. "The golden child, always trying to fix things." His antennae quivered with disdain. "Dad," Chip protests, "I just want you to be happy." Plankton's eye narrowed, his face a mask of condescension. "How sweet," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "But you see, Chip, happiness is a concept lost to me. I'm just a broken toy now, remember?" He twirled the fidget toy in his hand, his thumb moving compulsively over the patterns. Chip's cheeks flushed, his eyes filling with tears. "But Dad," he whispered, "you're more than that." Plankton's antennae shot up, his face a contorted mask of disdain. "Oh, really?" he said, his voice thick with patronizing sarcasm. "Enlighten me, oh great and wise Chip. Tell me what I am." He leaned back in his chair, his antennae waving in the air as if inviting a lecture from his son. Chip took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady. "You're my dad," he said, his eyes shining with unshed tears. "And you're... you're still you, even if you're a little different now." But Plankton's sarcasm was a shield he couldn't penetrate. "Ah, yes," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "The ever-elusive 'you're still you' argument. How original." His antennas twitched in disdain. "You don't get it," Chip's voice was desperate, his eyes pleading. "I don't care if you're different. I just want you to be happy." But Plankton's anger had become a shield, his words a barbed wire fence keeping his son at bay. "Oh, you don't care?" he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "How magnanimous of you." His antennae twitched in a mock salute. "Well, let me tell you something, Chip. You can't just ignore the fact that your perfect little world has been shaken up, can you?" Chip felt the sting of his father's patronizing tone, his eyes burning with unshed tears. "But Dad," he said, his voice quivering. "I just want to-" "Oh, I know what you want," Plankton interrupted, his voice dripping with condescension. "You want the perfect little storybook ending where we all hold hands and skip off into the sunset." His antennae waved in the air dramatically. "But life doesn't work that way, Chip. Sometimes, bad things happen to good people, and there's no magical cure for it." His eye was cold, his antennae stilled. "So save your pity for someone wh-" Karen stepped in, her voice calm and firm. "Plankton, that's enough." She knew his words were a defense, a way to push away the pain. "Chip's just trying to help." Plankton's antennae stilled, his breath hitching. He looked at his wife, his anger momentarily fading. "I know," he murmured. "But I don't want his pity." Karen's gaze was filled with understanding. "It's not pity, Plankton," she said, her voice soothing. "It's love." Plankton's antennae twitched, his expression softening slightly. "But what good is love when I can't eve-" "Love is more than just touch," Karen interrupted, her voice gentle. "It's understanding, it's patience, it's being here for you." She took another step towards him, her hand outstretched. "It's about connecting in other ways." Plankton's antennae quivered, his eye flicking to her hand and then back to her face. He knew she was right, but the fear was a beast that ruled him. "But I don't know how to," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "How do I connect without... without the things I used to do?" Karen ached, her hand still extended. "We'll find a way," she assured him, her voice steady. "Together."

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 13 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) Plankton's antennae drooped, his eye focusing on the fidget toy in his hand. It was a silent testament to his internal turmoil, his mind racing with thoughts and fears. He knew Karen was right, that love didn't need to be physical, but the concept was still so alien to him, so difficult to grasp in his current state. "I'm trying," he murmured, his voice tight. "But it's just..." Karen's hand reached out to cover his, her touch gentle. "We all are," she said, her voice soothing. "And that's all we can do." Her gaze was filled with understanding, her eyes speaking volumes without a single word. "We're all just trying to navigate this new world, together." Chip watched his parents. He knew his father was struggling, but he also knew that love didn't have to be about touch. He took a step forward, his hand hovering.. Plankton's antennae shot up, his eye wide with fear. Karen quickly intervened, placing a hand on Chip's shoulder. "Not now," she whispered, her screen meeting her son's. "Let's give Dad some space." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's, the desire to connect with his father a palpable force. But Plankton's reaction was a stark reminder of the invisible barriers his injury had erected, the sensory minefield that surrounded him. The room was thick with silence, the only sound the steady tick of the clock on the wall. Karen's hand remained on Plankton's, her touch a gentle reminder of her presence. "It's ok," she murmured, her voice soft. "We're all learning together." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye meeting hers with a glimmer of hope. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "But it's so hard." The words were a confession, his vulnerability laid bare. Karen ached, her grip on his hand firm. "I know," she said, her voice understanding. "But we'll get through this. Together." Chip took a deep breath, his eyes still locked on his father's. He knew that his dad's reactions were not personal, that his brain was just trying to make sense of the world in a way that was different now. He forced a small smile, his voice steady. "We're here for you, Da-" But Plankton's antennae shot up, his body stiffening. "Don't," he murmured, his voice tight. "Just... don't." Karen stepped in, her voice calm and firm. "Plankton," she said, her eyes never leaving his. "Chip's just trying to tell you that he loves you." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye flicking to his son and back to Karen. The words hung in the air, a bridge between his old life and his new reality. He knew his son was trying, but the fear was a thick fog that clouded his mind, making it difficult to see the love beyond the barrier of his own emotions. Chip knew his father was in pain, and his words had only added to it. "Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "I don't want you to feel li—" "Don't," Plankton interrupted, his antennae drooping. "I know what you're trying to do." His voice was a mix of fatigue and frustration. "But it's not that simple." Chip's eyes searched his father's, the depth of his pain mirrored in the tremble of his chin. "But Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "I just want to make you happ..." Plankton's antennae shot up, his body stiffening like a board. "Don't," he murmured, his voice strained. "I don't want your pity." The words were a warning, a reminder that his love was not conditional on his ability to function in the traditional sense. Karen's gaze remained steadfast on her husband's face, seeing the raw pain beneath the anger. She knew his frustration was a shield, a way to protect himself from the overwhelming sensory assault that his brain was still trying to comprehend. "It's getting late," she said. "Let's all get to bed." Plankton's antennae drooped, his body slumping in defeat. He was tired, so tired of fighting, of trying to make sense of this new world of sensory overload and fear. He nodded, his voice a whisper. "Ok." The silence that followed was heavy, filled with the unspoken words that hung in the air like a thick fog. As they made their way to their separate rooms, the weight of the evening's interaction settled on Chip's shoulders. He knew his father's reaction wasn't personal, but it was hard not to take it that way. He lay in bed, his mind racing with thoughts of his dad, his heart heavy with the knowledge that their relationship was forever changed. The next morning, Chip awoke and went to his parents room. The door was open, the light filtered through the blinds. Plankton was sitting on the edge of the bed, his antennae drooped low. He looked up as Chip entered, his eye wary, as if expecting another onslaught of emotions he couldn't comprehend. Chip paused. He knew he had to tread carefully, his father's sensory issues a delicate dance they were all still learning. "Hey," he said, his voice soft. "How are you?" Plankton's antennae twitched, a sign of his internal struggle. He took a deep breath, his eye flicking to the fidget toy resting on the bedside table. "I'm... ok," he murmured, his voice tentative. "Just tired." Chip took a step closer, his movements deliberate and slow. "Do you want to talk?" he asked, his tone gentle. Plankton's antennae quivered, his expression a mix of fatigue and frustration. "Talking doesn't change anything," he said, his voice flat. "But if it makes you feel better..." His eye met Chip's, the unspoken challenge clear. Chip took a deep breath, his mind racing. He knew his dad was in pain, knew that he needed to be patient. He sat down on the bed, his movements careful. "It's not about making me feel better," he said. "It's about... understanding." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye focusing on Chip. For a moment, the anger and fear receded, replaced by a hint of curiosity. "Understanding what?" his voice was gruff, but there was a crack in the armor, a glimpse of the man he used to be. Chip took a deep breath, his heart racing. "Understanding... how to be there for you," he said, his voice earnest. "How to love you in a way that doesn't... hurt." He swallowed hard, his throat tight. "I know it's different now, but I still want to be your son." Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye flicking to the floor. He was quiet for a long moment, his thoughts racing. He knew Chip meant well, but the concept of nonverbal love was so foreign to him. "I know you do," he murmured, his voice tight. "But it's not your job to fix me." "I don't want to fix you, Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "I just want to be with you." He reached out tentatively, his hand hovering over the fidget toy. "Can I?" Plankton's antennae shot up, his eye wide with fear. "No," he said, his voice sharp. "Don't touch it." He knew the toy was a lifeline, a way to ground himself in a world that felt like it was spinning out of control. But he also knew his son meant well. Chip's hand retreated, his eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I just want to... connect." Plankton's antennae drooped, his eye closing briefly. He knew his son's intentions were pure, but his own fear was a cage he couldn't seem to escape. "I know," he said, his voice softer. "But it's not that simple." Chip felt his chest tighten, his desire to help his father a physical ache. "But there must be a way," he said. "We'll find it." Plankton's antennae quivered, a tiny spark of hope igniting in his eye. "Maybe," he murmured, his voice tentative. "But you have to be patient." He picked up the fidget toy, his thumb tracing the patterns. Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving his father's. "I can do that," he said, his voice determined. "I'll do whatever it takes." Plankton's antennae twitched, a tiny glimmer of appreciation in his eye. "Thank you," he murmured. The words were a lifeline, a connection in the storm of his emotions. "But you have to understand," he continued, his voice strained. "Sometimes, I just need to be left alone." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving his father's. "I get it," he said. "But I'll always be here when you're ready."

𝖡𝖱𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖢𝖧𝖨𝖯 𝗉𝗍. 14 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖤𝖴𝖱𝖮𝖥𝖠𝖡𝖴𝖫𝖮𝖴𝖲) Karen's voice was gentle but firm. "Plankton," she said. "Chip's right. We'll find a way to connect that works for all of us. We just have to keep trying. Why don't we all go drive to the new sensory park they just opened?" It was a place designed for those with sensory processing disorders, with areas that catered to different sensory needs. "It's a bit of a drive across town, but do you wanna try going?" They both nodded. They parked the car. "Let's go slow, ok?" Plankton nodded. They approached the sensory garden, a place designed to be calming. The scent of lavender was thick in the air, and the soft crunch of gravel beneath their feet was a comforting contrast to the harshness of the city. As they walked through the gates, Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye scanning the area. The sensory park was a symphony of soft colors and soothing sounds, designed to minimize the overstimulation that so often triggered his seizures. "This is nice," he murmured. Chip watched his father, his heart in his throat. He knew how much this meant to him, how much Plankton was struggling. "It is," he said, his voice matching his dad's quiet tone. He took a deep breath, his sensors tuned to his father's every movement. "Do you want to go on the swings?" Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye flicking to the swing. He nodded slowly. Chip led the way, his movements cautious. He knew his dad needed space, needed to feel safe. They approached the swing set, a simple metal frame with plastic seats. Plankton closed his eye, the rhythm familiar and comforting as he swings. Chip took the swing next to Plankton, his movements tentative. He knew his father's fear of touch was a battleground, and he didn't want to cross any lines. The squeak of the chains and the gentle breeze through the leaves of the nearby trees were the only sounds that accompanied them as they swung back and forth, side by side. Chip watched his father. He wanted so badly to reach out, to hold Plankton's hand, but he knew the boundaries. Instead, he focused on matching his swing to Plankton's, their motion in sync. He hoped the rhythm would be a comfort to his dad, a small piece of the connection they used to share. As they swung, the tension slowly began to ease from Plankton's antennae. The back-and-forth movement was soothing, a gentle rocking. After a while, they got off the swings. Plankton's antennae were still twitching with the residual energy of the movement, his body craving the sensory input that had become so rare. Chip noticed and searched the park for a suitable activity. His eyes lit upon the sandbox. "How about playing in the sand?" he suggested, his voice hopeful. Plankton's antennae quivered with interest, his eye lighting up slightly. He had always enjoyed the feel of sand between his... well, the equivalent of fingers. Karen smiled, seeing the potential for a positive interaction. They approached the sandbox, the fine grains glinting in the sunlight. Chip took a seat on the wooden bench beside it, watching as Plankton tentatively placed his hand into the cool sand. His antennae quivered with pleasure at the sensation, his body relaxing slightly. Chip followed suit, his movements deliberately slow and cautious, mirroring his father's. He knew that sudden movements or touch could send Plankton spiraling, so he remained still, his eyes on the sand. Together, they began to sculpt the sand, their hands moving in harmony without any need for words. The gentle scrape of the grains against their hands was a soothing balm, a silent conversation that transcended the barriers of language and injury. Plankton's fears and anger from the night before seemed to melt away with each mound of sand that took shape. Chip watched his father, his heart swelling with hope. He had found a way to connect, a sensory experience that didn't overwhelm Plankton. As they played, he noticed his father's breathing slow, his antennae relaxing slightly. It was a small victory, but it felt like a huge step in the right direction. The sun grew higher in the sky, casting warm rays down on the sandbox. Karen sat beside them, her eyes filled with gratitude for this moment of peace. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly as he focused on the sand, his movements precise. Chip watched, mimicking his father's careful touch. The sand was a bridge between them, a shared experience that didn't require words. They built sandcastles together, their hands working in harmony despite the unspoken fear that hung in the air. Chip felt a weight lift from his shoulders as he saw Plankton's eye light up with each new creation. The sand was a therapy in itself, a gentle reminder that love didn't need to be loud or physical to be felt. They built a sandcastle together, their silent companionship a balm to the wounds of the previous night. After a while, they finished. "Want to try something else?" Chip asked, his voice soft. Plankton's antennae quivered, his eye flicking to the nearby beach ball. "Maybe a game of catch?" Plankton suggested, his voice tentative. Chip nods. He knew his dad's fear of the unexpected, so he rolled it gently to him. Plankton caught the ball. He tossed it back to Chip, his eye watching the arc of its flight with a hint of excitement. Chip's throw was careful, underarm, keeping it within Plankton's visual comfort zone. He knew his dad's limits, his fear of fast movements. Plankton's antennae twitched as he caught the ball again. The sensation of the cool, smooth plastic was a comfort in his hands. He threw it back to Chip, his movements calculated, his mind focused on the game. It was a simple activity, but it was one where he felt in control. Chip watched his father, his movements mirrored. He knew his dad's fear of the unexpected, so he threw the ball with a gentle underhand toss, keeping it slow and predictable. Plankton smiled slightly, his eye tracking the ball's trajectory. Later, Karen told them it's time to go, to start the drive back home. She got in the driver's seat as Plankton and Chip sat in the back together. Chip's eyes were on his dad, his heart racing with excitement. The car's movement was a gentle rocking, akin to the swing. Plankton watched the world pass by. The sensation of the car's vibrations was soothing. Karen glanced in the rearview mirror, her eyes searching for any sign of distress. But Plankton was calm, his antennae still. The drive was a quiet reprieve, a chance for them to process the newness of their relationship. Chip knew that his dad's sensory issues made the world a minefield, but in this moment, the steady hum of the car was a comfort. As Karen drove, Plankton's eyelid began to droop, his antennae slowing. The gentle vibration of the car and the predictable rhythm of the road was a balm. He leaned back, his head resting against the seat, his hand clutching the fidget toy. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly, his eye half-closed, head dropping. Chip felt his heart swell as Plankton's head slowly dropped onto his shoulder. And as Plankton starts to snore gently, Chip realized his dad had fallen asleep, his head resting heavily on his shoulder. He stiffened for a moment, fearing that any sudden movement might wake his father, might disrupt the fragile peace they had found. But Plankton's snores grew deeper, the tension leaving his body. Karen glanced in the rearview mirror. "It's ok," she murmured. "You're doing a good job." Chip felt his muscles relax slightly, the weight of his father's head a comfort. He knew that this moment was precious, a sign that his efforts were not in vain. He leaned into the warmth of his dad's body, his hand finding its way to the fidget toy. His thumb traced the patterns, mimicking the rhythm that Plankton had found soothing. Chip then decides to take a selfie. He holds up his phone after looking at his dad, who started to drool at the corner of his open mouth. He chuckles quietly, snapping the photo as Plankton remains asleep. Chip posts the picture with adding this caption: "Went to the park with my dad @ Sheldon Plankton today 💙👨‍👦💨 " Plankton still snored softly against Chip's shoulder. Chip noticed more drool escaping the corner of his mouth and felt a surge of affection mixed with concern. "Mom, he's drooling," he whispered to Karen, his voice barely audible over the car's hum. Karen chuckled, her eyes meeting Chip's in the mirror. "It's ok," she said softly. "It's a sign of his tiredness. Let him sleep."

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖨𝖲𝖬 𝖠𝖭𝖣 𝖠𝖫𝖫 pt. 24 (𝖻𝗒 𝗇𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴘʀᴏꜰᴇꜱꜱɪᴏɴᴀʟ ʀᴇᴀʟɪꜱᴛɪᴄ/ꜰᴀᴄᴛ-ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴇꜱ. ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴄʀɪʙᴇ ᴏʀ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴏᴛᴇ ᴀɴʏ ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪꜰɪᴄ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛᴍᴇɴᴛ. ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴍᴇɴᴛ. sᥙρρort to thosᥱ ιmρᥲᥴtᥱd ᴄᴏɴᴄᴇᴩᴛ- 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 ➸ 𝐏𝐆-𝟏𝟑 ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ🙂ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ "I've had enough of this!" Vickie snaps. "He's just a burden. Look at him, he can't eve-" Chip's fist hits the desk with a loud smack, cutting Vickie's words off. His eyes blaze with a fiery determination. "That's my dad you're talking about!" he says, his voice shaking with anger. The room stills, the tension thick. "And he's not a burden!" Vickie's face contorts in shock. Karen's eyes are proud, but filled with fear. She watches as Chip's shoulders square, his voice strong and firm. "I'm not leaving without this," he declares, his jaw set. "And if you want him hurt, you'll have to kick me out too." Nurse Vickie looks at him. "Oh you've done nothing wrong, sweet..." But Chip doesn't care, his mind racing. "I have!" he says, his voice rising. "I'm the one causing trouble!" He glares at her, his fists clenched. "I'm the problem, not him!" He throws his backpack at the wall. The room echoes with the sound of books hitting the floor, the clatter of his defiance. "Now, are you going to kick me out or keep hurting him?" Vickie's eyes narrow, suspicion growing. "What are you playing at?" "I'm not playing," Chip says, his voice shaking. "If you want a problem, I'll give you one. Just leave him alone." He kicks over a chair, his heart racing. He's fighting for his father, for the right to be understood. Vickie's eyes narrow, her mouth a thin line. "Young man," she says, her voice stern. "You need to calm down." But Chip's not calming down. He's just getting started. "You think you know him?" he challenges her, his eyes filled with a passion that's been building for too long. "You think you know what it's like to live with autism?" His voice echoes through the small office. Vickie takes a step back, her hands on her hips. "I know what's best for this school," she says firmly, her eyes cold. But Chip's not backing down. "You don't know anything," he says, his voice shaking. "You don't know what it's like to have a meltdown, to need space." He slams his fist into the desk again, the sound ringing out like a declaration of war. "You don't know what it's like to be him!" The room is silent, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. Karen's heart swells with pride, but her stomach is in knots. "Chip, please..." she says, but he's not listening. He's fighting a battle she wishes he never had to face. Vickie's expression flickers between annoyance and confusion. "Young man, if you don't calm down, I will be forced to call the principal," she says. But Chip just shakes his head, his eyes never leaving hers. "Then do it," he challenges. "Call the principal. Tell them to kick me out. Tell them to leave my dad alone. I don't wanna attend a school where my dad isn't respected." His voice cracks, the tears he's been fighting spilling over. Karen's hand is on his shoulder, trying to calm him, but Chip's determination is a force to be reckoned with. "Chip, sweetie, you don't have to do this," she whispers. But he shrugs her off. "I do," he says, his voice steady despite the tremble in his chest. "I won't let anyone hurt him like this again." His eyes are wet, but his stance is firm. "I'd rather be kicked out than see him suffer. I've made mistakes, but he's not a mistake. He only got sick because his needs weren't respected. Now, let us all go." Vickie's face reddens, her patience wearing thin. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth. "I'll call the principal. You're both coming with me." She grabs Plankton's arm, ignoring his flinch. Karen and Hanna follow Chip as he trails behind Vickie. The walk to the principal's office feels like a march to the gallows. Plankton's body is tight with tension, his antennae twitching with every step. Chip's heart races, his mind a tornado of fear and anger. He can't believe he's doing this, but he's seen his dad suffer enough. The principal greets them all. "Nurse Vickie, and Chip; hello!" But Chip's face is a mask of determined anger, his eyes fixed on the woman who had caused his father so much pain. "My dad's in trouble because he's different, and she won't let him be!" He points an accusing finger at Vickie, his words a declaration. The principal's eyebrows shoot up, his screen a picture of surprise. "What seems to be the trouble?" his voice calm, his eyes quickly assessing the situation. Vickie starts to explain, her voice a river of accusations. "He's a disruption, he's..." But Chip cuts her off, his voice a knife. "I'm the disruption!" he says. "I'm the one who threw the chair, I'm the one who yelled. My father's condition is not a disruption. It's a part of who he is." He turns to Vickie. "I'd appreciate it if you could be more understanding." The principal's eyes flicker between Chip and Vickie, his expression neutral. "Chip, I understand you're upset. But throwing chairs and yelling is not the way to express yourself." He pauses, looking at Plankton huddled in the corner. "But I also see that something has happened here that we need to address." Vickie's grip on Plankton's arm loosens, her face a mask of defensiveness. "The father was just being difficult, and was acting strangely." The principal's gaze sharpens. "Difficult? Strangely?" he repeats, his eyes drilling into hers. "Care to elaborate?" Vickie stammers, her confidence waning. "He was rocking back and forth, and... his antennae... they... I don't know, just..." She trails off, unsure of herself. The principal's gaze remains on her, his patience thinning like a wavering thread. "I see," he says, his voice calm. He turns to Plankton, his expression gentle. "Is that right?" Plankton's antennae quiver, his body a taut wire of nervous energy. "No," he says, his voice a croak. "It's... it's just me." He can't meet the principal's gaze, his eyes darting to the floor. "I... I just need..." But Chip's voice cuts through the silence like a sword, his words a shield for his father. "It's not his fault," he says firmly. "Autisticaphobia exists in this school. It's not his behavior that's the issue, it's the lack of understanding and empathy." The principal's eyes narrow, his gaze on Vickie, who shifts uncomfortably under the weight of accusation. "Is this true?" he asks her, his voice calm but his eyes like steel. Vickie opens her mouth, but no words come out. She looks from Plankton, huddled in the corner, to Chip, standing tall and furious. "I was just trying to calm everyone," she says weakly. The principal's gaze never wavers from her. "What happened in my office, Nurse Vickie, is not calming. It's discrimination." His voice is low, but it resonates like a thunderclap. "Your job is to support our students and their families, not to make them feel less than." Vickie's cheeks burn with shame, her eyes downcast. "I'm sorry," she mumbles. "I didn't mean..." But Chip's voice is a wall, his words unyielding. "It's not about what you meant," he says. "It's about what you did." His eyes are on the principal, his stance unwavering. "He's my dad, and I'll do anything to protect him." The principal's face is still, his eyes thoughtful. "Chip, you need to understand that this isn't the way to handle things," he says, his tone measured. "But I also appreciate your concern for your father." He looks at Vickie, his gaze stern. Vickie's eyes dart around the room, her discomfort palpable. "I'm sorry," she repeats, her voice small. "I didn't know..." The principal's gaze is steady, his voice firm. "Ignorance is no excuse," he says. "We will have a training session for all staff on autism awareness, and we'll make sure everyone understands neurodiverse needs." He turns to Plankton, who's still huddled in the corner. "Mr. Plankton, I'm sorry for any discomfort you've felt here today," he says, his tone soothing. "Your son has made it clear that your needs are important, and we will respect them." He glances at Vickie. "This won't happen again." Chip's chest loosens, his breaths coming easier. He's done it. He's protected his father. Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye flickers up to Chip's. There's something in them, something new. Recognition? Pride? Chip isn't sure, but his heart swells with hope. Slowly, tentatively, Plankton moves towards him, his tiny body shaking with the effort of controlling his overwhelmed senses. Chip holds his breath, his eyes on his father. Karen watches the scene with a mixture of pride and sorrow as Plankton's arms extend, a silent offering of love and comfort. Chip's heart races, his eyes wide. He's never seen his dad want to hug him before. But his instincts kick in, the days of learning about autism guiding his actions. He steps forward, his own arms wrapping around Plankton's shoulders. Their embrace is tight, a physical manifestation of the bridge they're building. Chip can feel Plankton's heart racing against his chest, his antennae twitching slightly. But it's not with fear or panic, it's with a love so pure it's overwhelming. He squeezes his dad tighter, his eyes closing as he whispers, "I've got you."

Why Privacy Matters For teens, having a space to call their own is key to feeling safe and respected. Losing a bedroom door, especially as a punishment, can feel like losing a big chunk of personal dignity. It’s more than just a door—it’s about having a safe spot to chill, change clothes, or just be alone with your thoughts. What’s Legal vs. What’s Right So taking off a bedroom door might not break any laws, but that doesn’t mean it’s the best move for the kids. It’s a grey area, legally speaking, but when it comes to what’s best for the teens, it’s pretty clear that this kind of punishment might be missing the mark. jared555 •5y ago Not having a door on your bedroom would likely be considered a safety hazard by most fire departments. The departments near me occasionally post videos on Facebook recommending sleeping with your bedroom door shut. If your parents remove your door, calmly but firmly express your need for privacy and discuss the situation with them, potentially seeking mediation or outside help if necessary. Here's a more detailed breakdown of what to do: 1. Understand the Reason: Ask for Explanation: Calmly and respectfully ask your parents why they removed the door and what they hope to achieve. Listen to Their Perspective: Try to understand their reasoning, even if you don't agree with it. 2. Express Your Needs and Concerns: State Your Need for Privacy: Explain that you need a space where you can be alone and have privacy for things like dressing, showering, and studying. Point Out Potential Problems: Explain that removing the door can lead to feelings of discomfort, vulnerability, and a lack of personal space. Consider the Impact: Discuss how this situation might affect your ability to function and your overall well-being. 3. Seek Mediation or Outside Help: Talk to a Counselor or Therapist: If you're unable to resolve the issue with your parents, consider seeking professional guidance from a counselor or therapist. Involve a Trusted Adult: If you feel comfortable, talk to a trusted teacher, family friend, or other adult who can help mediate the situation. Contact Child Protective Services (CPS): If you feel your safety or well-being is at risk, or if you believe your parents are neglecting your needs, contact CPS. 4. Consider Your Actions: Don't React Emotionally: Avoid yelling, slamming doors, or engaging in other destructive behaviors. Find Alternatives: Explore ways to create privacy within your room, such as using curtains, screens, or rearranging furniture. Document Everything: Keep a record of the conversations you have with your parents and any incidents that occur. ⣞⢽⢪⢣⢣⢣⢫⡺⡵⣝⡮⣗⢷⢽⢽⢽⣮⡷⡽⣜⣜⢮⢺⣜⢷⢽⢝⡽⣝ ⠸⡸⠜⠕⠕⠁⢁⢇⢏⢽⢺⣪⡳⡝⣎⣏⢯⢞⡿⣟⣷⣳⢯⡷⣽⢽⢯⣳⣫⠇ ⠀⠀⢀⢀⢄⢬⢪⡪⡎⣆⡈⠚⠜⠕⠇⠗⠝⢕⢯⢫⣞⣯⣿⣻⡽⣏⢗⣗⠏⠀ ⠀⠪⡪⡪⣪⢪⢺⢸⢢⢓⢆⢤⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢊⢞⡾⣿⡯⣏⢮⠷⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠈⠊⠆⡃⠕⢕⢇⢇⢇⢇⢇⢏⢎⢎⢆⢄⠀⢑⣽⣿⢝⠲⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡿⠂⠠⠀⡇⢇⠕⢈⣀⠀⠁⠡⠣⡣⡫⣂⣿⠯⢪⠰⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⡦⡙⡂⢀⢤⢣⠣⡈⣾⡃⠠⠄⠀⡄⢱⣌⣶⢏⢊⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢝⡲⣜⡮⡏⢎⢌⢂⠙⠢⠐⢀⢘⢵⣽⣿⡿⠁⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠨⣺⡺⡕⡕⡱⡑⡆⡕⡅⡕⡜⡼⢽⡻⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣳⣫⣾⣵⣗⡵⡱⡡⢣⢑⢕⢜⢕⡝⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⡽⡑⢌⠪⡢⡣⣣⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⡟⡾⣿⢿⢿⢵⣽⣾⣼⣘⢸⢸⣞⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠇⠡⠩⡫⢿⣝⡻⡮⣒⢽⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀

r/shortscarystories 1 day ago CBenson1273 My Aunt Tried To Protect Me From My Mother My childhood was a nightmare. My mother hated me and took every chance to show it. Nothing I ever did was good enough. ‘B’s on report cards were because I was stupid. Unfinished chores were because I was lazy. Any beatings I got were because I deserved them. And my father was just as bad. Fortunately, her sister was my refuge. When things got too bad, I could go over there to escape for a day or two. Perhaps that was why my mother didn’t like Aunt Lisa. The feeling was mutual. So I was surprised when my aunt told me she’d invited my parents over for tea tomorrow. “Why would you invite them here? The whole reason I come here is to get away from them!!” “I know,” she replied. “But that all ends tomorrow. I’m going to have a talk with them; they aren’t going to mistreat you anymore.” I knew in my heart they’d never change, but she was determined to try. The next day, I sat in the corner as my parents entered. “There you are, you wretched child,” my mother said. “Come home this instant and stop causing trouble!” “Now, now, Lydia,” replied my Aunt. “That behavior is exactly why I called you over today. It’s quite enough.” “HOW DARE YOU TELL ME HOW TO RAIS—!” “Do calm down, Lydia. All that screaming isn’t good for your blood pressure. What’s say we all relax, have a nice cup of tea, and discuss this like adults?” My mother still looked furious, but she took the proffered cup and retook her seat. “How you treat Annie isn’t right. It needs to stop.” “You have no say in what I do in MY home. And whatever MY daughter gets, I can assure you it’s deserved.” “So you aren’t open to change, then?” “Absolutely not - that girl’s gotten exactly what she deserves.” “Very well, then. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.” “Come to wh—“ my mother started when she suddenly began to foam at the mouth and grasp at her throat. “Don’t mind that,” my Aunt said. “Just a bit of poison I placed in your cups. I was hoping you’d agree to change your ways, but clearly you never will. Goodbye, sister.” After my parents had collapsed on the floor, I looked over at my aunt. “What did you do?” “What needed to be done,” she replied. “But what if they’d agreed to stop?” “Then I’d have given them the antidote I was keeping in my purs—“ A look of shock crossed her face as her throat closed, replaced by panic as she rifled desperately through her purse. “Looking for this?” I asked, holding up her syringe. “But…. why?” my aunt asked as she collapsed. “Remember all those times you saw my bruises and scars and sent me back there anyway?” “But I loved you like a daughter,” she gasped with her final breath. “Then you should’ve done better,” I said

DON’T 👏🏼 SAY 👏🏼 YOU 👏🏼 BELIEVE 👏🏼 IN 👏🏼 BIBLICAL 👏🏼 MARRIAGE 👏🏼 IF 👏🏼 YOU 👏🏼 DIDN’T 👏🏼 OFFER 👏🏼 THREE 👏🏼 GOATS 👏🏼 FOR 👏🏼 YOUR 👏🏼 WIFE

Drowning In Sorrow I had a cousin who drowned when I was much younger. At the time, he was off at college, so nobody knew about it until the next day. His parents were taking care of his 2-year-old niece. The night he drowned, she woke up screaming in the night and would not go to sleep. She just kept pointing to a picture of him that was on the nightstand. His parents gave it to her, and she hugged it and wouldn't let go of it all night.

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS x (Autistic Author) Karen's heart squeezes as she sees the vulnerability in her husband. She reaches out and takes Plankton's hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "We're all learning here," she says. "And we'll keep figuring it out together." Then, Chip speaks up again, his voice a little stronger. "Daddy," he says, "I still want to show you affection." Plankton looks up, his antennae twitching with a hint of sadness. "I know, buddy," he says. "And I appreciate that. But sometimes, my brain needs a different kind of love." Chip frowns. "But I don't know how," he says. Plankton's antennae wiggle as he thinks. "How about this?" he suggests, his eye brightening slightly. "You can make me a 'love rock'." Chip's eyes light up with excitement, and Karen nods encouragingly. "You can pick out a rock from the beach or the yard, and every time you feel like giving me a hug but know I might not be able to handle it, you can give me the rock instead. That way, I'll always know you're thinking of me." Chip nods eagerly, already imagining the perfect rock in his mind. "I'll find the biggest, smoothest rock," he says, his eyes shining with purpose. Plankton's antennae rise slightly, and he manages a smile. "That's my boy," he says, his voice a little less strained. “I’ll go look in our backyard right now,” Chip says as he does so. Karen watches him run off and looks at Plankton, her eyes filled with emotion. "You ok?" she asks, squeezing his hand. Plankton nods, his antennae still. "I think so," he murmurs. "Thank you, Karen." Karen squeezes his hand in return, her eyes filled with understanding. "You're doing great," she whispers. As Chip rummages outside, the sound of his little feet pattering on the ground, Karen and Plankton sit in the quiet kitchen, the weight of their conversation still hanging in the air. Plankton's antennae droop slightly, but there's a newfound openness in his gaze. "Do you think he'll understand?" Plankton asks, his voice still raw from the previous night's emotions. Karen squeezes his hand, her eyes filled with warmth. "He's a smart kid," she reassures him. "And he loves you. He'll get it." They sit in silence for a moment, listening to the distant sounds of Chip's exploration. Then, Plankton speaks up, his voice tentative. "What if I have another meltdown?" he asks. Karen squeezes his hand, her gaze unwavering. "We'll be there for you," she says. "We'll help you through it." The sound of the back door opening and closing echoes through the house, and Chip returns, holding a rock that fits perfectly in the palm of his hand. It's smooth, with a slight shimmer in the light. "Here it is!" he exclaims, holding it out to Plankton. "It's your love rock!" Plankton's antennae lift, and a genuine smile spreads across his face as he takes the rock. "It's perfect," he says, his voice filled with emotion. He can feel the warmth from Chip's hand still lingering on the stone. "Thank you, buddy." Chip beams, his earlier fears forgotten in the excitement of the moment. "Can we go to the park now?" he asks, hopeful. Karen looks at Plankton, who nods wearily. "Sure," she says, pushing her chair back. "But let's take it slow, okay?" The park is a familiar place, filled with the sounds of children's laughter and the distant hum of the city. As they walk, Chip chats away, his voice a balm to Plankton's nerves. Karen notices the subtle changes in her husband's gait, the way his antennae twitch with every new sound or sight. She knows he's trying hard to stay present, to not get overwhelmed by the sensory onslaught of the outside world. When they reach the playground, Chip runs off to the swings, his love rock clutched tightly in his hand. Plankton watches him, his gaze a mix of pride and concern. He knows his son's energy can be too much for him sometimes, but he doesn't want to miss out on these moments. Plankton takes a deep breath, his antennae wiggling as he gathers his courage. He approaches the swing set, his eye scanning the area for any potential triggers. The chains of the swings glint in the sun, and he can almost feel the sway of the seat beneath him. He hasn't swung in years, not since before Chip was born. Plankton sits on the swing by Chip. The metal is cold and hard beneath him, but as he starts to push off with his foot, the chains begin to squeak a comforting rhythm. The motion is familiar, almost soothing, reminding him of a time when the world was simpler, less stormy. He watches Chip, his heart swelling with love as his son's laughter fills the air. As they swing side by side, Plankton's antennae twitch with every movement of the breeze, every giggle that escapes Chip. The wind rushes through the playground, and he feels the rock in his pocket, a reminder of their newfound understanding. The rhythmic motion of the swing starts to work its magic, and Plankton's beginning to relax. The gentle sway feels like a lullaby for his overstimulated brain. Plankton smiles, his antennae waving in a way that says everything is ok. They swing in silence for a while, the steady back and forth a comforting metronome to the chaotic symphony of the playground around them. Plankton can feel the tension in his body slowly uncoiling, the squeak of the chains becoming a familiar melody that soothes his frazzled nerves.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 12 hr. ago CalebVanPoneisen ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ Stinging paın jolts me awake, but my broken bødy reminds me that I did survive the plane crash. Dozens of exotic snails are grazing my motionless bødy, slowly tearing into my flesh, while I can do nothing but silently witness my torment..

GREAT CHIP ix (Autistic author) Chip took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. "I know I can't fix you, Dad," he said, his voice shaking. Plankton's antennae stopped moving, his eye focusing on Chip with an intensity that made him feel like he was being x-rayed. "You can't," he said, his voice firm. "But you can support me. You can be there without trying to change me." Chip nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Okay," he managed to say. "But I want to understand. I want to be here for you." Plankton's antennae twitched, his eye narrowing slightly. "Understand?" he echoed, his tone laced with sarcasm. "Sure, it's easy. Just imagine your brain's a pinball machine on tilt. Sounds fun, right?" Chip felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth despite the tension, which only adds to Plankton's anger. "Well, when you put it that way..." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye squinting at his son's response. "What?" he barked, his voice sharp. Chip tried to hold onto his smile, his heart racing. "I mean, if it's like a pinball machine, I can learn the patterns," he said, his tone carefully light. "I'm pretty good at video games, so..." Plankton's antennae waved wildly, his eye flashing with anger. "You think this is a game?" he shouted, his voice filling the room. "You think I enjoy being out of control? WELL THEN PERHAPS YOU CAN EXPLAIN THE FUN OF FORGETTING WHERE I AM FOR THE UMPTEENTH TIME!" Chip's smile dropped, his eyes wide with shock at his father's outburst. He took a step back, his hands up in a gesture of peace. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to make a joke of it, I just..." "You just what?" Plankton spat, his small body vibrating with rage. "You just don't get it! You can't get it! You're not autistic, you don't know what it's like to have your brain turn on you like that!" Chip's eyes filled with tears, his heart breaking at the accusation. "I know, Dad," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm trying." Plankton's antennae quivered with the force of his rage. "You don't know," he said, his voice cold. "You can't know. All I see is a little child playing pretend, thinking he can understand what I go through! And yet you're the one asking for help! Face it, you're never going to get it and so don't expect ME to explain it to you!" Chip's eyes watered, the words hitting like a sledgehammer. He had never seen his father so furious, so unyielding. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice shaking. "I just want to help." Plankton's antennae stopped their wild movements, his eye focusing on his son with a cold, calculating gaze. "Help?" he repeated, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You want to help by poking fun at my condition?" Chip's eyes searched his father's, his heart racing. "Dad, I didn't mean it like that," he said, his voice trembling. "I just wanted to lighten the mood." Plankton's antennae waved, his eye still cold and distant. "Don't," he said, his voice like ice. "Don't try to lighten it. And don't you DARE make fun of it." Chip's eyes fell to the floor, his heart aching with the weight of his father's anger. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I di-" "You're sorry?" Plankton's voice was a whip crack in the silence. "Sorry doesn't cut it!" He slammed his fist on the table, causing their plates to rattle. "You think an apology is enough when you belittle what I go through?" Chip's eyes widened with fear as his dad's anger grew. He'd never seen Plankton like this before, his tiny body trembling with rage, his antennae thrashing like live wires. The kitchen felt suffocatingly small, the walls closing in. "Dad, please," Chip begged, his voice shaking. "I didn't mean it that way." But Plankton was beyond listening, his tiny body vibrating with fury. "You don't get to make jokes about this!" he roared, his antennae whipping about like agitated snakes. "You don't get to reduce it to a game you can win with a simple joke!" Chip took another step back, his heart pounding in his chest. He had never seen his father this enraged, and it scared him. "Dad, I-" he began, but Plankton's tirade didn't stop. "You think it's funny?" Plankton shouted, his antennae a blur of motion. "You think it's fun to live with this?" His voice grew louder, his words sharper. "You think it's easy to lighten up at the drop of a hat?" Chip's eyes filled with tears as his father's anger grew, his voice crackling like static. He hadn't meant to make light of his dad's condition, but now it seemed as if he'd made everything worse. "I'm sorry," he choked out, his hands shaking. Plankton's antennae whipped around his head, his eye bulging. "Sorry won't make it go away!" he screamed, his voice bouncing off the walls. "You think you can make it better with a laugh?" He slammed his fist down again, the sound like a gunshot. "It's not a joke, Chip!" Chip's eyes filled with tears as he watched his father's outburst, his heart pounding. He had never seen Plankton like this, his anger a living, breathing thing that filled the room like a toxic cloud. "I know," he whispered, his voice shaking. "But I want to help." Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. "Help?" he spat, his voice a whip. "You want to help? Then stop making it about you!" Chip's eyes grew wide with fear as he watched his father's anger boil over, his voice shaking. "Dad, please," he whispered, his heart racing. Plankton's antennae thrashed wildly, his body vibrating with uncontrollable rage. Suddenly, he grabbed the coffee mug from the table, flinging it across the room where it shattered against the wall. Shards of ceramic flew everywhere, puncturing the silence like shrapnel. "Dad, no!" Chip yelled, his heart racing faster than it ever had before. He had never seen Plankton this out of control. And Karen knew she had to act fast. Her voice was calm but firm as she approached Plankton. "Sweetie, it's okay," she said, her hands up in a non-threatening gesture. "Let's go to your workshop. You know that's your safe space." Plankton's antennae thrashed, his eye darting around the room, seeking anything to target his anger. "I don't want to go anywhere!" he roared, his body shaking with the intensity of his emotions. "It's not okay!" Karen stepped closer, her voice steady. "It's okay to be upset," she said, her eyes never leaving his. "But Chip..." But Plankton's rage was unstoppable. He lunged for the nearest object, a framed photo of Chip, his grip tightening as he raised it over his head, ready to smash it against the floor. Karen's eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest. She had to defuse the situation before it got any worse. "Plankton, no," she pleaded, her voice steady. "Please, don't." But Plankton's rage had taken over, his body moving on autopilot as he swung the photo frame with all his might. It crashed to the floor, the shattering glass echoing in the small room. Chip's eyes grew round with shock, his body frozen in place as he watched his father's tantrum unfold. "Dad, please stop!" he shouted, his voice cracking with fear. "You're scaring me!" But Plankton's rage was a runaway train, his antennae quivering with the intensity of his anger. He stomped over to the counter, grabbing a plate and flinging it against the wall, where it shattered into a hundred tiny pieces. The sound was deafening, the force of the impact sending a shiver down Chip's spine. Karen stepped in front of Chip, placing herself between him and the storm of Plankton's fury. "Stop," she said firmly, her voice a calm oasis in the chaos. "You're scaring him." Plankton's antennae stilled, his eye focusing on Karen with a mix of anger and confusion. For a moment, his body seemed to pause, his arm still mid-air, a kitchen towel gripped tightly in his hand. Then, with a roar, he threw it, the soft fabric landing limply on the floor. Karen's eyes searched her husband's, seeing the turmoil behind the rage. "Please, Plankton," she said, her voice soothing. "Let's talk about this." But Plankton's anger was like a wildfire, consuming everything in its path. He picked up another mug, his arm winding up to throw it, when Chip suddenly stepped forward, his eyes locked on his father's. "Dad," he said, his voice shaking. "Please don't." Plankton's antennae paused, his arm still raised. "WHY?" he growled, his eye wild with anger. "You think you can just tell me what to do?" And then, with a sickly twisted satisfaction, Plankton hurled the mug in front of Chip, purposefully missing him. The room seemed to hold its breath as the mug spun through the air, the shattering of porcelain on the tile floor a symphony of pain. "Dad," Chip said, his voice shaking. "It's not about control. It's about us. Our fam..." But Plankton was beyond words, his rage a living entity that consumed him. He grabbed a toaster, his grip white-knuckled, and hurled it at the fridge, the metallic clang a cacophony in the small kitchen. "I DON'T NEED YOUR SYMPATHY!" he bellowed, his antennae a blur.

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS xii (Autistic Author) The tree above them provides a gentle canopy, casting dappled shadows on Plankton's sleeping form. The leaves rustle in the breeze, creating a natural lullaby that soothes not only him but Chip and Karen as well. The world outside the shade seems to melt away, leaving them in a quiet cocoon of peace. Karen watches her son with a mix of admiration and sadness. He's growing up so fast, she thinks, having to learn about things most kids his age don't have to. But Chip's strength is undeniable, and she knows that together, they'll navigate the storms that come with Plankton's condition. The park's cacophony slowly starts to fade into the background, replaced by the rhythmic sound of Plankton's deep, even breathing. Chip sits next to him, the love rock still in his hand, his thumb tracing the smooth surface. The shadows from the tree above dance across their faces, creating a mesmerizing pattern of light and dark that seems to mirror the complexities of their lives. Karen pulls out a small blanket from their bag and covers Plankton gently, tucking it around his small body. She looks at Chip, her eyes filled with a mix of love and sadness. "Why don't you sit with him for a bit?" she suggests. "I'll grab the car." Chip nods solemnly, taking a seat beside his father. He places the love rock in Plankton's palm, curling his slender fingers around it. The park's sounds seem to fade away as he focuses on Plankton's peaceful face, the only indication of life the steady rise and fall of his chest. Chip's eyes drift over to the swings, now silent, the chains still swaying slightly from their earlier use. While Karen walks to get the car, Chip sits in quiet contemplation, feeling the weight of their conversation from the night before. He's learned so much about his dad, about the storms in his brain that make him different. But instead of fear, Chip feels a newfound respect and love, a bond stronger than any storm could break. Plankton's eye flutter open, the sleepy confusion fading as he sees Chip sitting beside him, the love rock still clutched in his hand. He looks around, the park coming back into focus. His antennae twitch slightly, searching for the source of comfort. "Hey, buddy," Plankton says, his voice groggy. "What happened?" Chip's eyes light up, his grip on the rock tightening. "You had a seizure," he explains, his voice steady. "But you're ok now. We're just waiting for Mom to bring the car." Plankton nods, his gaze drifting to the rock. He opens his palm, revealing the smooth, shimmering stone. "Thank you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. Chip looks up, his eyes meeting Plankton's. "It's our love rock," he says simply, his voice filled with the weight of their new understanding. Plankton's antennae twitch, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "I remember," he says, his voice a little stronger. "It's a good rock." The two sit in companionable silence, the rock a tangible symbol of their bond. The park's sounds slowly filter back in, the laughter of children, the squeak of the swings, the distant bark of a seagull. Life goes on around them, but in this moment, their world is small and focused. As Karen pulls up with the car, she sees them sitting under the tree, the love rock in Plankton's hand. She parks and walks over, her eyes filled with concern. "Ready to go home?" she asks gently. Plankton nods, his antennae rising slightly. "Yeah," he says, his voice still shaky. "Let's go." They carefully help him into the car, the love rock still nestled in his hand. The drive home is quiet, the weight of the day's events hanging heavy in the air. Chip watches his dad, his heart aching for the silent struggle he knows he's facing. As they pull into the driveway, Karen looks back in the rearview mirror. "Remember, Chip," she says, her eyes meeting her son's in the reflection, "today was a learning experience. We all need to be patient with each other." Chip nods solemnly, his gaze never leaving Plankton's face. He sees the exhaustion etched into his father's features, the quiet strength that hides beneath the storm. "I know," he whispers, his voice filled with understanding beyond his years. The house is a welcome retreat from the overwhelming sensory assault of the park. Inside, everything is familiar and comforting, a bastion of predictability in a world that often seems too loud and too bright for Plankton. Karen helps Plankton into bed, tucking him in with the care of a lighthouse keeper guiding a ship to safety. Chip sits on the edge of the bed, holding the love rock out to Plankton. "Do you still want this?" he asks, his voice tentative. Plankton's hand reaches out, his eyes never leaving the rock. He takes it, his grip firm. "Yeah," he says, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "It's comforting." Karen gives them both a soft smile before leaving the room, closing the door gently behind her. The room is filled with the hum of the fish tank, the calming blue light casting a soothing glow. Chip sits with his father, the love rock nestled in Plankton's hand, a silent sentinel of their bond. For a moment, they just breathe together. Then, Chip decides to speak. "Daddy," he says, his voice gentle and soothing, "I'm here for you. No matter what happens, ok?" Plankton's eye flicker with understanding, and he squeezes the rock in his hand. "Thank you, Chip," he murmurs, his voice filled with more emotion than Chip has ever heard from him. "I'm lucky to have you." The words hang in the air, heavy with meaning, as Chip nods, his own eyes brimming with tears. He leans in to offer Plankton his hand to hold. Plankton takes it, his grip firm, his eye searching Chip's for reassurance. The love rock remains a silent witness to their conversation, a physical representation of the unspoken affection that flows between them. Slowly, Plankton's eye grow heavy, the lid drooping as sleep claims him once more. His hand relaxes around Chip's, the rock still cradled in his other palm. Chip watches his father's chest rise and fall with each deep, even breath, the storm of the day finally abating. Eventually, Plankton's eye opens, a glimmer of understanding piercing the tempest. His antennae still, his body going rigid with the effort of speaking. He draws in a deep breath, his eye locking onto Chip's and also Karen’s, the love rock a bridge between them. "Lo..." he manages to murmur, the word a tremor in the quiet room. Karen's eyes widen, her heart skipping a beat. "Lo..." he tries again, the syllable a whisper of hope. The room feels like it's expanding, the walls stretching with the weight of his effort. "Lo...ve," he finally says, the word a shaky but clear declaration. The air shimmers with the power of the spoken word, the love rock in Chip's hand feeling like it's vibrating with joy. Karen's eyes overflow with tears as she squeezes Plankton's hand, her voice choking with emotion. "Oh, honey," she says, her voice a gentle caress, "we know." Chip's own eyes sparkle with unshed tears, his voice trembling as he speaks. "We love you too, Daddy." "Lo...love," he manages to repeat, the word a treasure pulled from the depths of his mind. Chip feels a tear slide down his cheek, the love rock in his hand a warm emblem of victory. "You don't have to say it, Daddy," Chip says, his voice shaky but earnest. "We know." But Plankton's eye determined, the word 'love' a beacon he needs to reach. With a Herculean effort, he whispers, "Chip...Karen...love...you." The room is suffused with a warmth that feels like a sunrise, the shadows retreating to the corners. Karen stands with love for her family. She knows that this is just the beginning of their journey, that there will be more storms to weather. But with Chip by his side, she feels a glimmer of hope that Plankton's world will be a little less overwhelming.

She Knew Something Was Up When my great-grandma was on her last legs, she was convinced that my mom was having a baby and wanted to know if it was a girl or boy. My mom replied by telling her that she was not pregnant, and after asking the same to my aunt she said, "Oh, guess I was wrong". Here's where it gets unsettling. Exactly nine months later, I was born.

Spiritually — I will win. Financially — I will win. Career wise - I will win. Mentally - I will win. Emotionally - I will win. Physically - I will win. Family wise — I will win. Love Life - I will win. In my life — I will win. I will have it all I'm claiming it.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 5 yr. ago Jjustingraham It Only Takes a Touch I’ve always been able to tell. It just takes a touch - even the brush of a sleeve against my skin, and I see it. The moment of death. Vivid. Sounds, colours, smells, tastes. The receptionist at work will choke on a cashew. My boss will die in a skiing accident. Mom’s Alzheimer’s will kill her, and dad will commit suicide. My brother will die alone, in an assisted living facility. My best friend will have a stroke while shoveling his driveway. The blessing of my curse was that it taught me not to sweat the small stuff. It’s hard to hold grudges, or get worked up about social media, when you’re constantly flooded with the finality of death; whether it’s peaceful or traumatic, sudden or brutally drawn out. My PhD Supervisor was a jerk, but he didn’t deserve to be run over by a bus in front of his kids while on a bike ride. I married Vanessa because the first time we kissed, I saw her laying in bed, old and frail, holding my hand, smiling. I’d never been able to see my own death, so knowing that we had a complete life together...she was, literally, the one. Our life was perfect. I treasured every moment that we had because I knew that we were inexorably marching towards a pre-destined end. I made them count. Until our daughter was born. I almost dropped her when she was handed to me. I saw her - older. Maybe in her twenties. Naked. Hogtied in a cellar. A rag stuffed in her mouth, mascara running down her face. Shrieking. Seeing my face looking down on her, cracked in a demented grin. I almost threw up, and gave her back to my wife, who stared at me in shock and confusion. No, no, no, no - This can’t be right. I loved this baby girl. I had fallen in love with her immediately. Everything about her. The pink of her skin, the way she cried, her tiny fingers, the curly hair that looked exactly like her Grandmother’s. But I was never wrong. Well - the visions weren't ever wrong. I tried holding her with a blanket, but the sensation was overwhelming. It was nauseating. Why would I do that? How could I hurt my perfect girl? I got them home, wrote my note, and drove to the office in the middle of the night. I didn’t want Vanessa to find me. I couldn’t let her see what I had to do. I clutched a photo of my daughter and one of us on our wedding day, and sobbed for hours. Then I put the gun to my head. I wouldn’t let myself hurt my baby girl. The moment I pulled the trigger, I saw my twin brother’s smiling face in the family portrait on my desk.

😘😘💚🐾

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 18 Karen moves quietly. She gently shakes him. "Plankton, wake up," she whispers. "The therapist." Plankton's antenna twitches, his eye slowly opening. "Oh, right," he mumbles, his voice groggy. "He usually comes over when Chip's at school or someth-" Plankton startled at a knock on the front door, the sensory therapist arriving for the session. Chip follows his parents to open the door. The therapist, a calm and kind octopus, enters the room, her arms filled with toys and devices. She smiles warmly at Plankton. "Good morning," she says. "And who's this young man I see?" She looks at Chip. Chip smiles shyly. "Our son Chip," Karen said, introducing her son. "He's here to learn too." The therapist nods, her eyes understanding. "It's important for everyone to understand, isn't it?" she says, her voice gentle. Karen turns to Chip. "So Chip, this is Dr. Marla." "Hello," Dr. Marla says, coming in to the living room. "I've known your father and worked with him for ages. Let's all sit on the living room floor." Chip nods, his heart racing. This is the first time he's met someone who's known his dad's secret. He sits down next to Plankton, who's now fully alert as they all sit in a circle. Dr. Marla opens a bag filled with various sensory toys. "Plankton," she says, her tone gentle, "I assume your son has learned about your condition. How'd that come about?" Plankton's antennae twitch slightly. "It was an accident," he says, his voice a mix of embarrassment and resignation. "But it led to... to a good discussion? It was when he saw me having one of my seizures.." Chip looks down at his hands, feeling his cheeks grow warm as he remembers that moment. Karen's hand finds his, giving it a squeeze. "It's okay," she whispers. "You can talk about it. Now is the time to ask, Chip." Dr. Marla nods. "And how has that affected your father and son relationship?" She asks. Chip looks up, his eyes meeting hers. "It's... it's different," he says. "But in a good way, I think." He glances at Plankton, who nods in agreement. "I've learned so much about his... his autism. And I know now that he's not just being mean, sometimes." Dr. Marla nods, her expression gentle. "That's important," she says. "It's about understanding and compassion. Now, I'd like to ask if there have been any mishaps with said relationship?" Plankton's antennae droop, his eye flicking to Karen. "Well," Karen says, "There was the time Chip tried to be supportive, yet he accidentally used a slur.." The therapist nods sympathetically. "It's a learning process," she says, her tone reassuring. "Missteps are common when navigating new understandings." She glances at Chip, her expression encouraging. "But it's how you apologize and move forward that shows growth. May I ask what slur wa-" "It was just a... a silly thing I said," Chip interjects, his voice small. "I didn't kno—" "It's okay," Dr. Marla interrupts, her eyes kind. "We're here to learn together. What was the slur?" Chip swallows hard. "I... I called him a ret-" he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just saw him acting..." Plankton's antennae twitch, his gaze dropping to the floor. Karen's grip on his hand tightens slightly, a silent reassurance. "It's okay," she whispers. "You didn't kn-" But Plankton's anger surges up, cutting her off. "No, it's not okay!" he snaps, his voice sharp. "I can't believe you said it, again!" His eye narrows, and he pulls his hand away from Karen's grasp. Chip shrinks back, his heart racing. He's never seen his dad so upset with him. "Dad, I'm sorry," he stammers. "I really di-" But Plankton isn't listening, his antennae thrashing. "How could you?!" he yells. "After everything we talked about!" His voice is loud, echoing in the small room, and Chip flinches. Karen's eyes dart between her husband and son, her heart breaking for both of them. She knows Plankton's anger is a defense mechanism, a way to cope with his pain. But she also knows the pain Chip is feeling, the guilt and fear of losing his dad's trust. "Plankton," she says, her voice calm, "Let's talk about this with Dr. Marla; she's he--" "No!" Plankton shouts, his eye wide with rage. He stands up, his fists clenched as he grabs a pillow, throwing it across the room. Karen flinches as the pillow hits the wall, but her voice stays calm. "Plankton, sweetie, let's breathe." But Plankton's in his own world, his autism exacerbating his reaction to the painful word. He's spinning, his antennae thrashing as he searches for something, anything to release his anger. "Dad," Chip whispers, his voice trembling. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean-" But Plankton's in the throes of his tantrum, his body moving erratically. He grabs a book from the shelf, tossing it across the room. Karen jumps up, intervening before anything else can fly. "Plankton," she says firmly, her voice a steady force in the storm of his anger. "Look at me. Look at me," she repeats, her hands up, palms out. "Just br-" But Plankton isn't calming down, his eye wild, kicking a chair over. Dr. Marla approaches them. "It's okay, Plankton," she says calmly. "Your feelings are valid. But right now, let's find a better way to express them." She holds out a fidget toy, her voice steady. "Remember, this can he-" But Plankton's anger has taken over. He swipes at the toy, sending it flying. He then moves to a shelf, his hand grabbing a picture frame. It hits the floor. "No!" Karen yells, but it's too late. Dr. Marla approaches Karen and Chip. "See, this is the anger," she says, her voice calm and understanding. "It's common with autism. He's feeling overwhelmed and doesn't know how to express it. This is Plankton's autism flaring up, and this is Plankton's way of dealing with it. This is Plankton's way of saying, 'I'm in pain, and I need help.' Plankton is angry, yes, but he's also scared."

CHIP OFF THE OLD TALKS xi (Autistic Author) The wind whispers through the leaves of the nearby trees, carrying with it the scent of fresh-cut grass and the distant sound of seagulls. It's a simple pleasure, but one that Plankton has often missed in his quest to protect his son from the storms in his own mind. Suddenly, the serenity is shattered as a ball comes hurtling through the air, narrowly missing Plankton's head. He flinches, his antennae shooting straight up in alarm. Chip's swing comes to an abrupt halt, his eyes wide with fear. The children playing nearby laugh, unaware of the chaos their game has brought to the quiet corner of the playground. Plankton's eye darts around, trying to process the sudden assault of sound and movement. His breath comes in quick, shallow gasps, and Karen can see the beginnings of a panic attack forming on his face. "Daddy!" Chip shouts, jumping off his swing and racing to his side. With surprising speed and grace, Chip leaps into action, catching Plankton just as he starts to topple off the swing. "Daddy!" Chip says, his voice filled with urgency as he gently guides Plankton's unresponsive body to the soft grass below. The love rock still clutches in his small hand. Karen rushes over, her eyes wide with concern. "Is he ok?" she asks, kneeling beside them. Chip nods, his chest heaving. "He has an absence seizure thing," he says, his voice shaking slightly. He looks up at Karen, his eyes filled with fear and confusion. "What do we do?" Karen's eyes fill with a mix of panic and love as she takes in the sight of Plankton, his body frozen in mid-swing, his antennae limp. She's been here before, but it never gets easier. "It's ok," she says, her voice calm despite her racing heart. "Just give him a moment. He'll come back to us." Chip nods, his grip on the love rock tightening as he watches his father. The world seems to slow down around them, the laughter of the other children fading into a distant memory. Plankton's breathing is shallow, his body stiff. Karen reaches out, placing a gentle hand on his back, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. The seconds tick by like hours, each one filled with the weight of uncertainty. Chip clutches the love rock, willing his dad to come back. He's seen this before, but it never gets easier. He remembers the first time it happened, the fear that had gripped him, the feeling of helplessness as his dad's eye glazed over. But now, he knows what to do. He's not as scared; he's prepared. With trembling hands, Chip takes out the love rock, its smoothness a comforting reminder of their conversation. He places it gently in Plankton's palm, curling the slender fingers around it. "You're ok," he whispers, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside. "We’re here." Plankton's body remains still, a stark contrast to the vibrant world around them. The squeaks of the swings, the laughter of the children, the distant crash of waves, all seem to fade into the background as they wait for him to return from his brief retreat. Karen sits beside Chip, her hand on his shoulder, offering silent support. Time seems to stand still as they wait, the rock in Plankton's hand a silent testament to their newfound bond. The park's vibrant sounds muffle into a distant symphony, the world holding its breath for Plankton's return. Above them, the sun casts a warm, gentle light, the shadows dancing as if in a silent ballet of concern. The seconds stretch into eternity, each one a heartbeat of hope. Chip's eyes never leave his father, willing him back with all his might. The rock in Plankton's palm is a symbol of love and understanding, a bridge connecting them through the stormy seas of his mind. As Plankton's body remains frozen, the world around them seems to hold its breath. The rustling of the leaves above, the distant laughter of children, even the crash of waves in the background seem to hush in respectful silence. It's as if the universe itself is offering a quiet sanctuary for Plankton's return. Chip's eyes never leave his father's face, his grip on the love rock in Plankton's palm unwavering. His heart races with fear, but he squeezes the rock tighter, trying to channel the love and support he feels into his dad's unresponsive hand. Chip decides to whisper comforting words. "Daddy, it's ok," he says softly. "You're safe here with me and Mom." Karen's eyes are filled with a mix of fear and admiration for her son's courage. She watches as Chip decides to continue. "Remember the rock, Daddy?" Chip whispers. "It's my way of saying I love you." Plankton's antennae twitch slightly, a glimmer of recognition in his eye. The world around them seems to hold its breath, the very air thick with anticipation. Chip's voice is the only sound, a gentle lullaby in the cacophony of the playground. The rock in Plankton's hand feels warm, almost alive, as if it's absorbing the love Chip is whispering into it. Chip watches as Plankton's antennae slowly start to wiggle, a sign that he's coming back to them. "I'm here," Chip says, his voice barely audible. "I'll always be here." Karen's hand moves to cover Chip's, her eyes glistening with tears she's trying hard to hold back. The sight of her son's unwavering support is both heartbreaking and awe-inspiring. Plankton's chest rises and falls more steadily, his breathing evening out. The rock in Plankton's hand seems to pulse with a gentle warmth, a silent acknowledgment of Chip's words. Karen sees the tension in Plankton's features begin to ease, his antennae drooping slightly as he starts to come back to them. It's a delicate process, like waking a sleeping dragon. Any sudden movement could send him back into the storm. Chip's voice is a beacon, guiding Plankton through the fog. "It's ok," Chip repeats, his voice soothing, "You're with us." Plankton's antennae twitch again, and Karen can see the spark of understanding in his eye. Slowly, Plankton's body starts to relax. The tension in his shoulders eases, and his antennae twitch in a way that tells Karen he's listening, that he's with them again. His breathing evens out, and his eyelid flickers closed. For a moment, Chip is afraid. But then, Plankton's hand tightens slightly around the rock, giving him a squeeze that says 'Thank you'. Karen smiles, her eyes shimmering with relief. "Looks like he’s asleep," she whispers, her voice filled with a mix of humor and love. Chip nods, his own eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. They stay like that for a while, the three of them, in the quiet sanctuary of the park bench. The storm in Plankton's mind has passed, leaving them in a gentle lull. The playground's sounds slowly start to filter back in, the chatter of children, the distant hum of the city, the rustling of leaves in the breeze. Chip keeps whispering, his voice a gentle caress in the stillness. "It's ok, Daddy. You're safe." Karen watches her son with a mix of love and sadness, knowing the weight he now carries. He's growing up too fast, she thinks, but he's handling it with more grace than anyone could ask for. Plankton's hand relaxes around the rock, his breathing deep and even. The storm inside him has passed for now, leaving them with a quiet, precious moment. Chip leans into her, his voice a whisper. "Is he going to be ok?" Karen nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's peaceful face. "He'll be fine," she says. "Rest is sometimes the best thing for him after an episode." Chip nods, his grip on the rock in Plankton's hand loosening slightly. He looks around the park, the world coming back into focus. The other kids are playing, their laughter a gentle reminder of the life that goes on outside their little bubble of concern. "Should we go home?" Chip asks, his voice still hushed. Karen nods. "Let's get him into the shade," she says, gesturing to a nearby tree. "The fresh air and quiet will do him good." Together, they gently lift Plankton and carry him to the cool, shaded spot. Chip is careful not to jostle him too much, his little hands supporting Plankton's head. Under the tree, Karen lays a blanket on the ground and they place him down. His antennae are still now, no longer dancing with the stress of the seizure. His breath is deep and even, his features relaxed in sleep. Chip watches him intently, his thumb tracing the smooth surface of the love rock. "He's going to be ok, right?" he asks, his voice a barely audible whisper. Karen nods, her eyes filled with a fierce protectiveness. "Of course, sweetie," she says. "Daddy just needs some rest."

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 19 Dr. Marla gestures to the corner of the room, where there's a calming space set up specifically for times like these. "Let's go over there," she suggests, her voice calm and soothing. But Plankton's rage is like a tornado, spinning him in circles. Karen tries to guide him gently, but he shrugs her off, his body tight with tension. Chip's eyes are wide with fear, watching his dad's outburst. He's seen his father's temper before, but not like this, not with such unbridled fury. Plankton's movements are jerky, his face distorted with anger and pain. His breaths are quick, his eye unfocused. Karen moves closer, her voice still calm. "Let's go to this calming corner, sweetie," she says. But Plankton's rage doesn't abate. He throws another pillow, knocking over a lamp. The room is a mess, a reflection of the turmoil within him. "Dad, please," Chip whispers, his voice shaking. He's never seen his dad like this, his usually stoic facade crumbling into a chaos of emotions. Plankton's body jerks, his limbs flailing as his anger escalates. He knocks over a table, his eye unseeing as his senses overload. Karen moves quickly, trying to guide him to the calming corner, but he resists. "Dad, please," Chip pleads, his voice trembling. But Plankton's anger is uncontrollable, knocking over furniture, his eye filled with a mix of fury and fear. The therapist's calm demeanor remains. She knows this is part of his condition, and she doesn't flinch as a book flies past her. "Plankton," Karen says, her voice firm but gentle, "we need to—" But Plankton isn't listening, his rage consuming him. He grabs another pillow, squeezing it tightly. His eye darts around the room, searching for an outlet for his anger. "Daddy, no!" Chip whispers, his voice shaking. His heart is racing as he watches his father, his hero, fall apart. Chip tries to intervene, but Plankton swats his hand away, his movements wild. "Dad," Chip says, his voice louder, more urgent. "Please, let's talk!" But Plankton can't hear him, his mind lost in his emotions. He throws the pillow, watching it soar through the air before it slams into the wall, the feathers exploding out. The room is a whirlwind of movement and noise, and Chip can't help but flinch with every crash and smash. Karen's eyes are wide, her face pale. She's seen this before, but it never gets any easier. Plankton's breaths are coming in quick gasps, his body trembling with the effort of containing his emotions. He throws his head back, letting out a scream that echoes through the room, his antennae whipping around. Karen's heart is in her throat, but she knows she has to stay calm. "Plankton," she says, her voice steady. "Come to the corner, please." She holds out a hand, but Plankton's too far gone to see it. He throws another book, his screams filling the room. Karen's heart is racing, but she keeps calm. "We're here for you," she repeats. Yet Plankton's rage continues to build, his movements more erratic. The therapist watches, ready to step in if needed. "It's okay," she says soothingly. "Let's all stay calm and sa-" But Plankton's meltdown reaches a crescendo. He stumbles. Chip's eyes widen in horror as his father's body jerks uncontrollably. So Chip gets the box of all the sensory items and brings it out. But that ends up being a huge mistake. Plankton's flailing ends up kicking, sending every thing flying, everything slamming into the wall, the plaster cracking. The destroyed sensory box and unfixable items are what breaks the straw on the camel's back. His eye rolls back in his head, his body going slack. Karen gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. "Plankton!" she cries out, catching him as he falls. Chip jumps forward, his fear turning to dread. But the sensory therapist has seen it all before. "Let him down gently, his body and his brain have just decided to take a break." "But he's not moving," Chip cries, as Karen lowers Plankton. Dr. Marla opens her bag. "It's okay," she says calmly, her voice steady. "This is called a shut- down. His body has simply had enough. But I've got some new stuff for him. I'll show you as I set it up."

GREAT CHIP xi (Autistic author) After a moment, she turned and walked towards the workshop door, her steps slow and deliberate. She paused, her hand on the doorknob, looking back at Chip with a mixture of pain and resolve. "I'll check on your father," she said, her voice a whisper. "You... you clean up here." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving his mother's. He knew she was hurting too, but she was putting on a brave face for him. As she disappeared into the workshop, his heart felt like it was in a vice. He'd never seen his parents like this before. The kitchen was a mess of shattered dishes and splattered jelly, a stark contrast to the usually pristine space. He took a deep breath and began to collect the broken pieces, his mind racing with thoughts of his father's pain. Karen's footsteps were quiet as she approached the workshop, the door slightly ajar. She could hear Plankton's muffled sobs from inside, his tiny body hunched over his workbench. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she might find. The room was a whirlwind of half-finished inventions, wires and gadgets scattered about. Her heart broke at the sight of her husband, the usually stoic and resourceful Plankton, reduced to a tiny, shaking figure, his antennae drooped like the wilted leaves of a forgotten houseplant. "Plankton?" Karen's voice was a soft whisper, cutting through the quiet. He didn't look up, his sobs the only sound in the cluttered room. Slowly, she approached, her eyes taking in the chaos around them. "Honey," she began, her voice trembling. "I know you're upset, but..." Plankton's sobs grew louder, his body shaking with the force of his emotions. Karen reached out, her hand hovering over his shoulder, uncertain whether to touch him. Finally, she decided that in this moment, space was what he needed most. She stood there, a silent sentinel, her presence a gentle reminder that she was there for him. "Plankton," she said softly, her voice a balm in the storm of his rage. "Can I get you anything?" Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his tiny frame heaving with the weight of his emotions. "No," he said, his voice muffled. Karen took a step closer, her hand still hovering. "Do you want me to stay?" she asked, her tone gentle. Plankton's antennae twitched, his head nodding slightly. It was the barest of movements, but it spoke volumes to Karen. She stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, careful not to press too hard. He stiffened at first, but then, ever so slightly, leaned into her. Her embrace was gentle, her touch like a soft breeze, offering comfort without smothering his pain. "I always love you." The words hung in the air, their quiet strength a stark contrast to the chaos of the kitchen. Plankton felt his body begin to relax, his sobs easing as Karen's warmth seeped in. He took a deep, shuddering breath, his antennae drooping. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to... I don't know..." Karen's grip tightened, her hand sliding up to cradle his head. "It's okay," she soothed, her voice a gentle lullaby. Plankton's antennae twitched nervously against her, but he didn't pull away. He knew she was there for him, even when his own mind was a tempest of confusion. "You don't have to apologize," Karen whispered. Her words were a balm to Plankton's raw nerves, and he leaned into her embrace. She knew he was sensitive post-episode, his emotions like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap. Her heart ached for him, for the fear and frustration he felt in those moments. Karen's eyes scanned the room, noticing the chaos of Plankton's workshop, his mind's refuge. Usually, the disarray was organized, each gear and wire in its place. Now, it was as though a tornado had swept through, leaving a trail of half-finished inventions in its wake. Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his body still tense under her touch. "I just... I don't want you to look at me and see something broken and unlovable.." Karen's eyes filled with tears. "You are you, and that is all I've ever loved." The words hung in the air, a gentle rebuttal to the harshness of the earlier scene. Plankton's sobs grew quieter, his breathing evening out. Chip hovered at the entrance, his heart a tumultuous sea of regret and fear. He'd hurt his father, and he didn't know how to fix it. He took a tentative step into the workshop, his eyes scanning the room. The mess was a stark reminder of the turmoil Plankton was feeling, and it only served to amplify Chip's own guilt. He watched his mother's careful movements, her gentle touch, and he desperately wanted to do the same.

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 20 Dr. Marla opens her bag, pulling out an extending rod black out curtain. "It kinda looks like a shower curtain, but these curtains muffle sound and block light." Karen nods, her eyes on Plankton's still form. "We've tried things before, but this is new." Dr. Marla nods. "We're always learning, aren't we?" She unfurls the curtain around Plankton, creating a small, cozy space. "This will help him feel safe and reduce his sensory input. It's good for absence seizures too." Plankton's breathing slows as he sinks into the curtained cocoon. Dr. Marla continues. "It's like you power off a tablet to restart, and it will gradually come back on, right? That's what Plankton's doing. And as he 'reloads' he might act like a newborn seeing the world for the first time as he wakes up. Meaning he might not recognize anything, speak incoherently, etc. Plankton might take a little while to fully come back. Like a file downloads it loads info little by little until it's finished, only then can you view it; so as with Plankton's consciousness." Karen nods, her eyes never leaving her husband. Her heart aches for him, but she knows that he's safe, his body cocooned in the sensory curtain. Chip, still shaking, watches his dad, his eyes wide as Plankton's eye blinks open. His gaze is as if he's trying to relearn his body. "K-kay?" Karen smiles softly, her voice gentle. "It's okay, sweetie," she says, her hand reaching for the curtain. "Your dad's just restarting, remember?" Chip nods, his eyes glued to Plankton's form as he sits up, his eyes blinking slowly. "Hi," Chip whispers, his voice barely above a breath. Plankton's eye focuses on him, and his mouth moves, but only one word comes out: "Hi." It's a tiny victory, but Chip feels a surge of relief. He knows his dad is okay, or at least on his way back to okay. Dr. Marla nods. "It's normal for someone coming out of a shut- down to speak in single words or not at all for a while." Karen strokes Plankton's antenna. "How do you feel?" she asks softly. Plankton's gaze is vacant, his voice weak. "Sedm." Chip looks at him confused, his heart racing. "Dad?" The therapist nods. "It's normal," she says. "After a shut-down, his words may come slowly. Give him space, let him come back to us." Plankton blinks, his eye unfocused. "Mm." It's all he says, his mouth moving slightly, as if tasting the air for words. Karen nods encouragingly. "Good job," she murmurs. "You're doing great." Chip feels like he's watching a newborn learn to speak again. The therapist sits beside Plankton, her voice calm. "Would you like a new fidget toy?" "Buth," he mumbles, his eye still glazed. His brain isn't comprehending. Karen nods, her hand gently taking the toy. "It's okay," she says, her tone soothing. "You just need to relax." Plankton takes the fidget toy, his hand shaking. He clutches it, his gaze unseeing. Chip sits cross- legged, his heart pounding. He watches his dad, his mind racing. Why is he like this? He's so smart, so capable, but right now, he seems so... lost. "Thuh..." Plankton whispers. Karen nods, her voice soft. "Take your time," she says. "We're not going anywhere." Chip nods, his throat tight. "I'm here," he says, his voice barely a murmur. Plankton's hand shakes, his grip on the fidget toy loosening. His eye blinks rapidly, his mind trying to come back online. "Ba-back?" he whispers, his voice tiny. The therapist, Dr. Marla, sits back, her eyes assessing. "It's normal," she repeats. "Your brain needs a moment to recalibrate." Plankton's breathing slows, his body uncurling from its defensive ball. He takes the fidget toy, his hand trembling. Karen's heart aches as she watches her husband struggle to find words. Chip's eyes are wide with concern, but he doesn't interrupt, giving his dad space. "Th-the... hash?" Plankton says, his voice barely a whisper. The therapist nods. "Good," she says. "Keep going." Plankton's hand shakes, the fidget toy clutched tightly. "Doge." Karen smiles gently. "Yes, you're getting there," she says. Chip watches, his heart in his throat. "Toy?" Plankton says, his voice a little stronger. Dr. Marla smiles. "Yes, the toy is helping," she says. "Keep playing with it." Plankton nods, his hand moving slightly as he flips the fidget toy in his hand. "Yea," he whispers. Chip watches his dad, his own hands still. He's seen Plankton in tough situations before, but never like this. It's like his mind is a computer that's been hit by a virus, trying to reboot with only basic functions. "Dad," he says, his voice filled with longing. "Can you tell me what yo-" But Plankton's gaze remains unfocused, his mouth moving slightly. "Chip," Karen says, interrupting gently. "Give him a minute, okay?" Chip nods, his eyes still on his father. He doesn't want to leave, but he understands. He sits back, his heart racing as he watches Plankton's slow progress. Plankton's hand moves, the fidget toy spinning in his grip. "Good," he murmurs, his voice a little stronger. "Home." The word is a relief, a sign that he's coming back to them. Karen smiles, her eyes filled with love and concern. "Would you like to sit up?" she asks, her voice soft. Plankton nods, his body moving in slow motion as he sits. The curtain is still up, creating a small, safe space for him. Chip watches, scared, but he's also in awe of his dad's strength. Plankton, his hero, who's faced so much and is still here. "D-dad," he says, his voice shaking. "You okay?" Plankton's eye flicks to Chip, his mouth opening slightly. "Yeahhh." It's a simple word, but it feels like a lifeline. "Need?" he whispers, his voice strained. Karen nods, her hand still on his back. "We're here," she says, her eyes never leaving him. "We're always here for you." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye focusing a little more. "Th-thank," he stammers. Chip feels his heart swell with love. He's still in there, his mind just needs to recalibrate.

~ Doubting Blood My father got a DNA test done on my autistic, non-verbal little brother because he didn't think he was his child. The results came back and it turns out my brother is his son, but my mother has no idea my dad ever got that done.

𝖣𝖠𝖱𝖤 𝖳𝖮 𝖡𝖤 𝖣𝖨𝖥𝖥𝖤𝖱𝖤𝖭𝖳 (𝖡𝗒 𝖭𝖾𝗎𝗋𝗈𝖥𝖺𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌) 𝗉𝗍. 21 The room is quiet, except for the soft whir of the fidget toy. Plankton's breathing evened out, his eye focusing on the spinning discs. "More?" he asks, his voice a whisper. Karen nods, her heart swelling with pride. "You're doing so well," she says, her voice gentle. "We're here for you." Chip's eyes are wet, but he nods in agreement. He wants to hug his dad, but he knows Plankton needs his space right now. Plankton's hand shakes as he holds the fidget toy, his gaze fixed on it. "Ma-more?" he asks again, his voice still a whisper. Dr. Marla nods, reaching for a weighted blanket. "Let's try this," she suggests, her tone calm. Karen helps drape it over him, the heavy material grounding him. "Ma-make it," he says, his voice slightly stronger. Chip's heart leaps at the sound. "Make what?" he asks, his voice eager. But Plankton can't quite articulate. He just shakes his head, his eye squeezed shut. "M-make," he repeats, his frustration clear. Karen nods, her hand on his shoulder. "We know you can," she says. "Ma-make it st-sto-" He stammers, his body trembling with the effort of speech. "Ma-make it stop," he whispers, his voice breaking. His gaze meets Chip's, desperation in his eye. Chip looks up at the therapist, his eyes pleading for guidance. "What do we do?" Dr. Marla nods, her expression calm. "Just keep talking to him," she instructs. "Use simple words, and let him know you're here." So Chip does, his voice softer than ever. "Dad, we're with you." Karen's eyes are wet, but she smiles encouragingly. "You're doing so good," she says, her voice barely above a murmur. Plankton's hand clutches the blanket, his breath coming in quick gasps. "Ma-make," he says again, his voice strained. "Ma-make it sto-" Karen nods, her voice soothing. "You're doing so well, sweetie," she says. "Keep going." Chip watches, his eyes filled with hope. "Ma-make it qui-et," Plankton whispers, his body still trembling. The therapist nods, understanding. "Let's turn down the lights," she suggests, her voice calm. Karen nods and moves to the switch, the room plunging into a soft glow. "Ma-more?" Plankton whispers. "Ma-make it qui-et," he repeats, his hand flapping slightly. Karen's heart aches, but she nods. "We're here," she says, her voice steady. Chip looks around, his thoughts racing. "How- how do we do that?" he asks, his voice shaking. Dr. Marla smiles gently. "Just talk to him," she says. "Keep your words simple, and use a sensory toy to help." So Chip picks up a small, squishy ball, its surface covered in bumps. "Dad," he says, his voice soft. "Look." Plankton's eye sluggishly turns to the toy. "Ball," Chip says, his voice clear. Plankton's gaze flicks to the therapist, then back to Chip, his mouth moving slightly. "Bah," he tries, his voice barely a whisper. It's a start, a tentative step forward in understanding. The therapist nods. "Good," she says. "Keep trying." Plankton's hand reaches out, his grip weak. Chip places the ball in his palm, and his dad's eye light up slightly. "Bowl," he says, his voice a little stronger. It's a simple word, but it feels like a breakthrough. Chip nods, a smile spreading across his face. "Ball," he repeats, his voice encouraging. "Ball," Plankton says, his tongue wrapping around the word slightly. "Ball." It's a small victory, but it's enough to make Chip's heart soar. He picks up another toy, a plush octopus. "Dad, look," he says, his voice trembling. "Octo." Plankton's gaze shifts, his antennae twitching slightly. "Ah- pple," he says, his voice confused. "No," Chip says gently, taking the octopus. "This is octo. Octo." He shakes it slightly, the legs flailing. "See?" Plankton's eye widens slightly, his mouth forming an "o." "Ah- tto," he whispers. It's not perfect, but it's a start. Karen's hand squeezes his shoulder. "Good job, Plankton," she says, her voice filled with relief. The therapist smiles, her eyes observing them both. "Keep going," she says. "This is great progress." Chip holds up the octopus closer to him. "But-but," Plankton murmurs. Karen smiles. "You can do it." Plankton's hands are still, his gaze locked on the octopus. "Octo," Chip says again. Plankton's eye blinks slowly, his mouth moving. "Ah-tto," he tries again, his voice slightly louder. Chip's heart skips a beat. "No," he says gently. "Octo." He waves the toy in front of him. "Octo." Plankton's antennae twitch, his mouth forming the word. "Octo," he repeats, his voice stronger. Chip can't help the grin that spreads across his face. "Good," Dr. Marla says, nodding. "Keep working together." Karen's hand squeezes Chip's shoulder, pride in her eyes. Plankton holds the octopus, his hand still shaking. "Ma-make it sp-spin?" he asks, his voice hopeful. Chip nods, his hand steady. He spins one of the octopus's arms. "Spin," he says. Plankton's eye follows the spinning arm, his gaze focused. "Spin," he whispers, his tongue working the word. "Spin." His voice grows stronger, the word becoming more than just a sound. "Spin," he says, his hand tentatively reaching for an arm. "Mo- re," he whispers, his hand reaching out. Karen smiles encouragingly. "Good job," she says. "Keep talking to us." Chip nods, his heart racing. He holds up another toy, a shiny spinner. "Dad," he says, his voice hopeful. "See this?" Plankton's antennae twitch. "Spin?" he asks, his voice a question. "Yes," Chip says, his voice steady. "Spin." He flips the spinner, watching the colors blur. Plankton's eye follows the movement, his mouth opening slightly. "Clis," he whispers, his voice barely audible. Karen smiles, her eyes shining. "Keep going," she says. "You're doing so well." Chip nods, his hand steadier. "Dad, watch," he says, his voice filled with hope. He picks up a small, plush star, its material soft and comforting. "Look," he says, his voice clear. "This is star." Plankton's eye flicks to the toy, his hand reaching out. "Sta," he tries, his tongue sluggish. Chip nods, his heart racing. "Yes," he whispers. "Star."