Smscore Emojis & Text

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.

IMessage 2012-02-27 5:00 PM <I love you ..:) I love U 2> <Awe Really! :)) Ya they're like my favourite band>

March 30th, 2015, 5:10 PM Mom Hey mum can I have fifty bucks?> <Money doesn't grow on trees! What's paper made from?> <Trees. What's money made from?> <80% cotton. Which grows on a bush. smartphOWNED.com

Oct 15, 2012, 1:38 PM When ru home> <By 230 | think When r u home> <By 230 | think When r u home> <By 230 | think When r u home> <STOP Why ru saying stop>

8 Apr 2012 13:08 Hey genius. You left the handbrake off.> <No I didn't. Yes, you did.> <NO, I DIDN'T. Ok. You 'didn't'. I guess I'm rolling down the hill in someone ELSE'S car.>

Feb 11, 2013, 1:11 AM I can't believe how cheap green beans are > < Who is this? And what green beans? Like from the store > < What store? Who is this??

Messages Mom May 31, 2012 9:22 AM < Look and see if I left my phone outside May 31, 2012 10:46 AM Umm mom you texted me from your phone >

Text Message Jul 2, 2013, 12:39 PM If I searched for a picture of Johnny depps but how do I erase the search? I don't want your dad to see>

Aug 19, 2013, 1:51 AM You are wide> <Wide? *wise> Omg I'm so sorry>

Dad Messages Feb 25, 2011 2:45 PM < You left your phone at home

Jun 20, 2012 5:16 PM So someone told me you sound like an owl. Hows that? Darn. It didn't work. You were supposed to say 'who?' Lol ok Who? Never mind. Moment gone

Messages Mom Feb 22, 2012 7:06 AM Good morning beautiful :) xoxo your imaginary boyfriend Thanks mom. >

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

༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻ LOVING MEMORY ༺✿ڰۣڿ✿༻

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)

Messages Dad Dec 26, 2012 2:14 PM Dad there's a moth on the outside of the bathroom door can you get rid of it? Pis hurry because I'm going to cry Dad Dad > Dec 26, 2012 2:30 PM < Dad is dead. You're next. Love, Moth

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

Tuesday 6 November 2012 Cool SMS → ωнєη уσυ вєℓιєνє ιη ѕσмєσηє ∂єєρℓу, мιѕ-υη∂єяѕтαη∂ιηgѕ αяιѕє, вυт ∂ση’т ƒєєℓ ƒσя ιт… вє¢αυѕє ѕσмє мιѕ-υη∂єяѕтαη∂ιηgѕ αяє ηєє∂є∂ ƒσя gσσ∂ υη∂єяѕтαη∂ιηg.. → ιƒ ι ¢συℓ∂ ρυℓℓ ∂σωη тнє яαιηвσω ι ωσυℓ∂ ωяιтє υя ηαмє ωιтн ιт & ρυт ιт вα¢к ιη тнє ѕку тσ ℓєт єνєяувσ∂у кησω нσω ¢σℓσяƒυℓ му ℓιƒє ιѕ ωιтн α ƒяιєη∂ ℓιкє υ!! → тнιѕ ℓιƒє ιѕ тσσ ѕнσят тσ мαкє αη∂ α¢¢єℓєяαтє яєℓαтισηѕ, вυт ι ∂ση’т кησω ωну ρєσρℓє вяєαк тнє ∂єνєℓσρє∂ яєℓαтισηѕ. тнιѕ ℓιƒє ιѕ тσσ ѕнσят тσ ѕαу ѕσмєтнιηg тσ ℓσνє∂ σηєѕ, вυт ι ∂ση’т кησω ωну ρєσρℓє кєєρ ѕιℓєη¢є ƒσя α ℓσηg ρєяισ∂. тнιѕ ℓιƒє ιѕ тσσ ѕнσят тσ мαкє яєαℓ ƒяιєη∂ѕ, вυт ι ∂ση’т кησω ωну ρєσρℓє вяєαк ƒяιєη∂ѕнιρѕ. → ℓιƒє ιѕ ησт נυѕт ωαιтιηg ƒσя ѕσмєσηє ωнσ ιѕ мα∂є ƒσя уσυ. вυт ℓιƒє ιѕ ℓινιηg ƒσя ѕσмєσηє, ωнσ ℓινєѕ вє¢αυѕє σƒ уσυ. → ƒℓσωєяѕ ηєє∂ ѕυηѕнιηє, νισℓєтѕ ηєє∂ ∂єω, αℓℓ αηgєℓѕ ιη нєανєη кησω ι ηєє∂ υ. → ι ℓσνє ρнσтσѕ. вє¢αυѕє тнє вєѕт тнιηg αвσυт тнєм ιѕ тнєу ηєνєя ¢нαηgє, єνєη ωнєη тнє ρєσρℓє ιη тнєм ¢нαηgє “ωιℓℓιαм ѕнαкєѕρєαяє”. → ωє ℓσνє συяѕєℓƒ єνєη αƒтєя мαкιηg ѕσ мαηу мιѕтαкєѕ. тнєη нσω ¢αη ωє 4 тнєιя ѕмαℓℓ мιѕтαкєѕ? ѕтяαηgє вυт тяυє! ѕσ мαкє нαвιт σƒ ƒσяgινιηg. → єνєяу∂αу, єνєяуωнєяє, єνєяутιмє, ι мαу ησт вє ωιтн уσυ, вυт му тнιηкιηg, му ¢αяє, му ѕмѕ, му ρяαуєяѕ ; му ℓσνєℓу ωιѕнєѕ αяє αℓωαуѕ ωιтн уσυ. → υ мαу вє συт σƒ му ѕιgнт, вυт ησт συт σƒ му нєαят, υ мαу вє συт σƒ му яєα¢н вυт ησт συт σƒ му мιη∂.ι мαу мєαη ησтнιηg тσ υ вυт υ ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє ѕρє¢ιαℓ тσ мє! → ιƒ єνєя уσυ gєт ℓєѕѕ ѕмѕ ƒяσм мє, ∂ση’т тнιηк тнαт ι ∂ι∂η’т ¢αяє ƒσя уσυ. ιт мєαηѕ тнαт ι αм ѕєαя¢нιηg тнє вєѕт ѕмѕ ƒσя α вєѕт ρєяѕση ℓιкє уσυ → ρєσρℓє ℓινє ∂ιє ℓαυgн ¢яу ѕσмє gινє υρ ѕσмє ωιℓℓ тяу ѕσмє ѕαу нι ѕσмє ѕαу вує σтнєяѕ мαу ƒσяgєт уσυ вυт ηєνєя ωιℓℓ ι. → ι ηєνєя єχρє¢т σтнєяѕ тσ ѕмѕ мє. вυт ι’ℓℓ αℓωαуѕ ∂яσρ му ѕмѕ ιηтσ тнєιя ιηвσχ тσ ѕнσω ι ѕтιℓℓ “ℓσνє & яємємвєя” тнєм ωιтн σя ωιтнσυт тнєιя ѕмѕ → ƒєєℓ gσσ∂ ωнєη ѕσмєвσ∂у мιѕѕ υ. ƒєєℓ вєттєя ωнєη ѕσмєвσ∂у ℓσνєѕ υ. вυт ƒєєℓ вєѕт ωнєη ѕσмєвσ∂у ηєνєя ƒσяgєтѕ υ. → тωσ тнιηgѕ ¢αη ηєνєя вє ∂єƒιηє∂ ιη ωнσℓє ℓιƒє, ℓσνє: вє¢αυѕє уσυ ηєνєя кησω ωнσ ℓσνєѕ уσυ нσω мυ¢н. &; ƒяιєη∂: вє¢αυѕє уσυ ηєνєя кησω нσω ∂єєρℓу тнєу ¢αяє αвσυт уσυ. → αℓωαуѕ αѕк gσ∂ тσ gινє υ ωнαт υ ∂єѕєяνє, ησт ωнαт уσυ ∂єѕιяє. в¢σz уσυя ∂єѕιяєѕ мαу вє ƒєω, вυт уσυ ∂єѕєяνєѕ α ℓσт! → ѕσмє яєℓαтισηѕ αяє ℓιкє тσм αη∂ נєяяу. тнєу тєαѕє єα¢н σтнєя, кησ¢к ∂σωη єα¢н σтнєя, ιяяιтαтє єα¢н σтнєя вυт тнєу єνєη ¢αη’т ℓινє ωιтнσυт єα¢н σтнєя! → αη єχ¢єℓℓєηт яσα∂ ѕєηтєη¢є ωяιттєη ση ηαтισηαℓ нιgнωαу: gσ ѕℓσω, υηℓєѕѕ υ нανє αη υяgєηт αρρσιηтмєηт ωιтн gσ∂! → нαя∂ тιмєѕ αяє ℓιкє α ωαѕнιηg мα¢нιηє, тнєу тωιѕт, тυяη &αмρ; кησ¢к υѕ αяσυη∂, вυт ιη тнє єη∂ ωє ¢σмє συт ¢ℓєαηєя, вяιgнтєя &αмρ; вєттєя тнαη вєƒσяє… → ѕσмєтιмєѕ уσυ нανє тσ яυη αωαу. ησт נυѕт тσ ¢яєαтє ∂ιѕтαη¢єѕ. вυт тσ ѕєє ωнσ ¢αяєѕ єησυgн тσ яυη вєнιη∂ уσυ! → му ωαу σƒ ℓιƒє . ρєσρℓє ℓαυgн вє¢αυѕє ι αм ∂郃єяєηт, ι ℓαυgн вє¢αυѕє тнєу αяє αℓℓ тнє ѕαмє, . тнαтѕ ¢αℓℓє∂ ‘αттιтυ∂є’… “ℓινє ιт уσυя σωη ωαу” → α ρσρυℓαя ιηѕριяαтισηαℓ ѕρєαкєя ѕαι∂: вєѕт уєαяѕ σƒ му ℓιƒє ωєяє ѕρєηт ιη αямѕ σƒ α ωσмαη ωнσ ωαѕη’т му ωιƒє! αυ∂ιєη¢є ωαѕ ѕнσ¢кє∂ αη∂ ѕιℓєη¢є. нє α∂∂є∂: ѕнє ωαѕ му мσтнєя! αυ∂ιєη¢є αρρℓαυѕє αη∂ ℓαυgнтєя! → συя вσ∂у ιѕ ƒυℓℓу мα∂є σƒ ωαтєя вυт ωнєηєνєя ιт нυятѕ вℓσσ∂ ¢σмєѕ συт. συя нєαят ιѕ ƒυℓℓ σƒ вℓσσ∂ вυт ωнєηєνєя ιт нυятѕ, ωαтєя ¢σмєѕ ƒяσм συя єуєѕ. → ℓιƒє ιѕ α σηє ωαу яσα∂. ωнєяє ¢αη ѕєє вα¢к. вυт уσυ ¢αη ησт gσ вα¢к. ѕσ ∂σ ησт мιѕѕ αηутнιηg. єηנσу єνєяу ѕє¢ση∂ σƒ ℓιƒє! → ιƒ αη єgg вяєαкѕ ∂υє 2 συтѕι∂є ƒσя¢є! “ιηѕι∂є ℓιƒє єη∂ѕ!” вυт… ιƒ ιт вяєαкѕ ƒяσм ιηѕι∂є! “ℓιƒє вєgιηѕ!” gяєαт тнιηgѕ αℓωαуѕ вєgιη ƒяσм ιηѕι∂є! ѕσ тяу тσ мαкє уσυя ιηѕι∂є gσσ∂! → α ℓιттℓє ∂郃єяєη¢є вєтωєєη ρяσмιѕєѕ &αмρ; мємσяιєѕ. ρяσмιѕєѕ: ωє вяєαк тнєм &αмρ; мємσяιєѕ: тнєу вяєαк υѕ. → кєєρ α ѕρє¢ιαℓ ρℓα¢є ƒσя мє ιη уσυя нєαят, ησт ιη уσυя мιη∂! кєєριηg мє ιη уσυя мιη∂ ¢αη вє ∂αηgєяσυѕ ƒσя уσυ вє¢αυѕє ρєσρℓє ѕαу ι αм мιη∂ вℓσωιηg… → нαρριηєѕѕ ¢αηησт вє ƒσυη∂ ωнєη уσυ ѕєєк ιт ƒσя уσυяѕєℓƒ вυт ωнєη уσυ gινє ιт тσ σтнєяѕ, ιт ωιℓℓ ƒιη∂ ιт’ѕ ωαу вα¢к тσ уσυ тнαт’ѕ тнє муѕтєяу σƒ нαρριηєѕѕ ιт gяσωѕ ωнєη ѕнαяє∂. → тнє нαρριєѕт σƒ ρєσρℓє ∂ση’т ηє¢єѕѕαяιℓу нανє тнє вєѕт σƒ єνєяутнιηg. тнєу נυѕт мαкє тнє мσѕт σƒ єνєяутнιηg, тнαт ¢σмєѕ αℓσηg тнєιя ωαу. → ∂єαтн ιѕ ησт тнє gяєαтєѕт ℓσѕѕ ιη ℓιƒє тнє gяєαтєѕт ℓσѕѕ σƒ ℓιƒє ιѕ ωнєη яєℓαтισηѕнιρ ∂ιєѕ αмσηg υѕ ωнιℓє ωє я αℓινє ѕσ в ѕтяσηg ιη уσυя яєℓαтισηѕ. → єχρяєѕѕιση σƒ тнє ƒα¢є ¢συℓ∂ вє ѕєєη ву єνєяуσηє. вυт тнє ∂єρяєѕѕιση σƒ нєαят ¢συℓ∂ вє υη∂єяѕтσσ∂ σηℓу ву тнє вєѕт σηє. ∂ση’т ℓσѕє тнєм ιη ℓιƒє. → тнσυѕαη∂ѕ σƒ ℓαηgυαgєѕ αяσυη∂ тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂ вυт “ѕмιℓє” ¢αη вєαт тнєм αℓℓ. вє¢αυѕє “ѕмιℓє” ιѕ тнє ℓαηgυαgє єνєη α вαву ¢αη ѕρєαк.. → ѕσмє ρєσρℓє ∂ση’т кησω нσω ιмρσятαηт тнєιя ρяєѕєη¢є ιѕ. нσω gσσ∂ ιт ƒєєℓѕ тσ нανє тнєм αяσυη∂. нσω ¢σмƒσятιηg тнєιя ωσя∂ѕ αяє. αη∂ нσω ѕαтιѕƒуιηg ιѕ тнє νєяу тнσυgнт тнαт тнєу єχιѕт. тнєу ωσυℓ∂η’т кησω υηℓєѕѕ ωє тєℓℓ тнєм ℓιкє ι αм тєℓℓιηg уσυ ησω. уσυ αяє тяυєℓу ναℓυє∂…!! → вєѕт ℓιηєѕ ву α вєѕт ƒяιєη∂: “ιт нυятѕ мє υ тαℓк тσ ѕ0мє0ηє єℓѕє η η0т мє.. .. ιт нυятѕ єνєη м0яє ωєη ѕ0мє1 єℓѕє мαкєѕ υ ѕмιℓє η ι ¢αη’т . . .” → gσт α gιƒт ƒσя уσυ! ησ ¢σѕт, єχтяємєℓу ρєяѕσηαℓ! ƒυℓℓу яєтυяηαвℓє! ιтѕ α нυg ƒяσм мє тσ уσυ!! → υ мαу мєєт ρєσρℓє, вєттєя тнαη мє, ƒυηηιєя тнαη мє, мσяє вєαυтιƒυℓ тнαη мє, вυт σηє тнιηg ι ¢αη ѕαу 2 υ _ _ ι ωιℓℓ αℓωαуѕ вє тнєяє 4 υ ωнєη тнєу αℓℓ ℓєανє υ. → мσвιℓєѕ αяє ιяяιтαтιηg, ∂αιℓу ¢нαяgιηg, мσηтнℓу яє¢нαяgιηg, αηησуιηg вєєρѕ, αℓωαуѕ ∂ιѕтυявιηg, вυт ѕтιℓℓ ι ℓσνє му мσвιℓє вє¢αυѕє ιт ¢σηηє¢тѕ “υ & мє” → ωнєη ѕσмєσηє нυятѕ υ . . . . ∂ση’т ƒєєℓ вα∂ вє¢αυѕє ιтѕ тнє ℓαω σƒ ηαтυяє тнαт тнє тяєє тнαт вєαяѕ тнє ѕωєєтєѕт ƒяυιтѕ gєтѕ мαχιмυм ηυмвєя σƒ ѕтσηєѕ → α нυg ιѕ α gιƒт σηє ѕιzє ƒιт αℓℓ ιт ¢αη вє gινєη ιη αηу σ¢¢αѕιση ѕσ ι αм ѕєη∂ уσυ тнιѕ нυg тσ тєℓℓ уσυ ι ℓσνє уσυ. → ωнєη υ ƒα¢є ¢нσι¢єѕ… נυѕт тσѕѕ α ¢σιη.. ησт נυѕт вє¢αυѕє ιт ѕєттℓєѕ тнє qυєѕтιση, вυт ωнιℓє тнє ¢σιη ιѕ ιη αιя, υ ωιℓℓ кησω ωнαт υя нєαят ιѕ нσριηg ƒσя !!! → тнє ℓσνєℓιєѕт ∂αу ¢σмєѕ ωнєη уσυ ωαкє υρ αη∂ ƒιη∂ тнαт ℓσνє ѕтιℓℓ ¢σℓσяѕ уσυя ωσяℓ∂ тняυ ρєσρℓє ωнσ тяυℓу ¢αяє αη∂ ηєνєя ƒαιℓ тσ яємємвєя уσυ. → тнєяє ιѕ αℓωαуѕ α яєαѕση 4 єνєяутнιηg α яєαѕση 2 ℓινє 2 ∂ιє 2 ¢яу, вυт ιƒ υ ¢αη�т ƒιη∂ α яєαѕση тσ ѕмιℓє ¢αη ι вє тнє яєαѕση 4 α ωнιℓє:) → ℓιƒє + ℓσνє = нαρρу ℓιƒє – ℓσνє = ѕα∂ α∂∂ιηg αвσνє 2, ℓιƒє + ℓσνє = нαρρу ℓιƒє – ℓσνє = ѕα∂ ——————– 2ℓιƒє = нαρρу + ѕα∂ ѕσ, ℓιƒє = 1/2нαρρу + 1/2ѕα∂ → ι ѕмιℓє αт ωнσм ι ℓιкє; ι ¢яу 4 ωнσм ι ¢αяє; ι ѕнαяє ωιтн ωнσм ι ℓσνє; ι ℓαυgн ωιтн ωнσм ι єηנσу; ι ѕєη∂ ѕмѕ σηℓу 2 тнσѕє ωнσм ι ηєνєя ωαηт 2 ℓσѕє → яєαℓιzє тнιηgѕ вєƒσяє ιт’ѕ тσσ ℓαтє. α¢¢єρт тнιηgѕ тнαη ∂єℓαу тнєм. ℓσνє ρєσρℓє вєƒσяє уσυ ℓσѕє тнєм. ℓιƒє נυѕт ¢σмєѕ ση¢є. ℓσνє ιт ωнιℓє уσυ ℓινє ιт. → ι ∂є¢ι∂є∂ тσ ѕєη∂ уσυ тнє ¢υтєѕт αη∂ ѕωєєтєѕт gιƒт σƒ тнє ωσяℓ∂. вυт тнє ρσѕтмαη ѕнσυтє∂ αт мє ѕαуιηg, gєт συт σƒ тнє ρσѕт вσχ. → ℓιƒє ωιтнσυт ℓσνє ιѕ ℓιкє α ƒяυιтℓєѕѕ тяєє, вυт ℓιƒє ωιтнσυт ƒяιєη∂ѕ ιѕ ℓιкє яσσтℓєѕѕ тяєє. тяєє ¢αη ℓινє ωιтнσυт ƒяυιт вυт ησт ωιтнσυт яσσт! → ¢αяяу α нєαят тнαт ηєνєя нαтєѕ, ¢αяяу α ѕмιℓє тнαт ηєνєя ƒα∂єѕ, ¢αяяу α тσυ¢н тнαт ηєνєя нυятѕ, αη∂ αℓωαуѕ ¢αяяу α яєℓαтισηѕнιρ тнαт ηєνєя вяєαкѕ. → αѕ ρяє¢ισυѕ αѕ υ я тσ мє, αѕ ρяє¢ισυѕ ησ σηє ¢αη єνєя вє, ι кησω ƒяιєη∂ѕ я нαя∂ тσ ¢нσσѕє, вυт υ я α ƒяιєη∂ ι ηєνєя ωαηт тσ ℓσѕє. → мσηєу ѕαуѕ єαяη мє ℓσт, тιмє ѕαуѕ ρℓαη мє ℓσт, ƒℓσωєя ѕαуѕ ℓσνє мє ℓσт, ѕтυ∂у ѕαуѕ ℓєαяη мє ℓσт, ѕмѕ ѕαуѕ ѕєη∂ мє ℓσт, αη∂ ℓ ѕαу яємємвєя мє ℓσт. → υ ωαηт αη∂ υ gєт υ ωαηт αη∂ υ gєт тнαт ιѕ ℓυ¢к, υ ωαηт αη∂ υ ωαιт тнαт ιѕ тιмє, υ ωαηт вυт υ ¢σмρяσмιѕє тнαт ιѕ ℓιƒє → мємσяιєѕ нανє тнєιя ѕтяαηgє ωαуѕ. тнєу ℓєανє уσυ αℓσηє. ωнєη уσυ αяє ιη α ¢яσω∂. вυт ωнєη уσυ αяє αℓσηє. тнєу ѕтαη∂ αяσυη∂ уσυ ℓιкє α ¢яσω∂. → ιƒ υя α ¢нσ¢σℓαтє υя тнє ѕωєєтєѕт, ιƒ υя α тє∂∂у вєαя υя тнє мσѕт нυggαвℓє, ιƒ υ αяє α ѕтαя υ я тнє вяιgнтєѕт, αη∂ ѕιη¢є υ я му �ƒяιєη∂� υ я тнє �вєѕт�! → яσѕє ιѕ ƒαмσυѕ 4 gяα¢є… α∂νσ¢αтє ιѕ ƒαмσυѕ 4 нιѕ ¢αѕє… нσяѕєѕ я ƒαмσυѕ 4 яα¢є… вυт υ я ƒαмσυѕ 4 ѕмιℓє ση υя ƒα¢є…! нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу → “ι тяυѕт уσυ” ιѕ α вєттєя ¢σмρℓιмєηт тнαη “ι ℓσνє уσυ” вє¢αυѕє уσυ мαу ησт αℓωαуѕ тяυѕт тнє ρєяѕση уσυ ℓσνє вυт уσυ ¢αη αℓωαуѕ ℓσνє тнє ρєяѕση уσυ тяυѕт. → ι ωαηηα кєєρ3 тнιηgѕ: . . тнє ѕυη тнє мσση & му ƒяιєη∂ѕ ѕυη 4 ∂αутιмє мσση ƒσя ηιgнт тιмє &αмρ; υ.му ∂єαя ƒяιєη∂ 4 ℓιƒєтιмє → ιƒ уσυ ℓσνє ѕσмєтнιηg, ℓєт ιт gσ. ιƒ ιт ¢σмєѕ вα¢к тσ уσυ, ιтѕ уσυяѕ ƒσяєνєя. ιƒ ιт ∂σєѕη’т, тнєη ιт ωαѕ ηєνєя мєαηт тσ вє. → ωнєη α мєѕѕαgє ιѕ ѕєηт ƒяσм α ∂ιѕтαη¢є, уσυ ¢αη’т ѕєє тнє ƒα¢єѕ, уσυ ¢αη’т ѕєє тнє ѕмιℓєѕ, вυт уσυ ¢αη ѕєє тнє ¢αяє тнαт тяυℓу ¢σмєѕ ƒяσм нєαят ! → ∂ση’т ℓєт ѕσмєσηє вє¢σмє уσυя єνєяутнιηg, вє¢αυѕє ωнєη тнєу’яє gσηє уσυ нανє ησтнιηg! → ѕρєαкιηg ωιтнσυт єgσѕ, ℓσνιηg ωιтнσυт ιηтєηтισηѕ, ¢αяιηg ωιтнσυт єχρє¢тαтισηѕ &αмρ; ρяαуιηg ωιтнσυт ѕєℓƒιѕнηєѕѕ, ιѕ тнє ѕιgη σƒ “тяυє яєℓαтιση”. → яєℓαтισηѕнιρ яєqυιяєѕ ℓιттℓє єƒƒσятѕ……….. єνєη ωнєη ƒяιєη∂ѕ αяє вυѕу ωιтн тнєιя σωη ℓινєѕ, α ѕιмρℓє ѕмѕ яємιη∂ѕ єα¢н σтнєя тнαт……. “υ я ησт ƒσяgσттєη” → вє ¢ℓσѕє ωιтн ѕσмєσηє ωнσ мαкєѕ уσυ нαρρу…! вυт вє мυ¢н ¢ℓσѕєя тσ тнαт ρєяѕση ωнσ ¢αη’т вє нαρρу ωιтнσυт уσυ…! → ѕσσσσσσ…. ѕιмρℓє вυт ѕσ αттяα¢тινє. ѕσ.. єηℓιgнтηιηg вυт ѕσ ¢σσℓ. ѕσ мσνιηg вυт ѕσ ѕтιℓℓ. ѕσ… qυιтє вυт ѕσ ρσρυℓαя. ѕσ яσмαηтι¢ вυт ѕтιℓℓ ѕιηgℓє. ιт’ѕ тнє тяαgє∂у σƒ мσση:-

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

ѕσмє ρєσρℓє ∂ση’т кησω нσω ιмρσятαηт тнєιя ρяєѕєη¢є ιѕ. нσω gσσ∂ ιт ƒєєℓѕ тσ нανє тнєм αяσυη∂. нσω ¢σмƒσятιηg тнєιя ωσя∂ѕ αяє. αη∂ нσω ѕαтιѕƒуιηg ιѕ тнє νєяу тнσυgнт тнαт тнєу єχιѕт. тнєу ωσυℓ∂η’т кησω υηℓєѕѕ ωє тєℓℓ тнєм ℓιкє ι αм тєℓℓιηg уσυ ησω. уσυ αяє тяυℓу ναℓυє∂…!!

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

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.

ꜰᴀɪᴛʜ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ ᴏʀ ᴄᴀʀᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ꜰᴀɪᴛʜ ɪꜱ ꜰᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱᴀɪᴅ ᴀ ᴘʀᴀʏᴇʀ. ~ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ……………………..ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ɴɪᴄᴇ ᴅᴀʏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

𝚕 𝚘 𝚊 𝚍 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 . . . [][][][][][][][][][] ⓪ ٪ 𝚕 𝚘 𝚊 𝚍 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 █[][][][][][][][][] ➀⓪ ٪ 𝚕 𝚘 𝚊 𝚍 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 . . . ██[][][][][][][][] ➁⓪ ٪ 𝚕 𝚘 𝚊 𝚍 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 . . . ███[][][][][][][] ➂⓪ ٪ 𝚕 𝚘 𝚊 𝚍 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 . . . ████[][][][][][] ➃⓪ ٪ 𝚕 𝚘 𝚊 𝚍 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 . . . █████[][][][][] ➄⓪ ٪ 𝚕 𝚘 𝚊 𝚍 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 . . . ██████[][][][] ➅⓪ ٪ 𝚕 𝚘 𝚊 𝚍 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 . . . ███████[][][] ➆⓪ ٪ 𝚕 𝚘 𝚊 𝚍 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 . . . ████████[][] ➇⓪ ٪ 𝚕 𝚘 𝚊 𝚍 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 . . . █████████[] ➈⓪ ٪ 𝚕 𝚘 𝚊 𝚍 𝚒 𝚗 𝚐 . . . ██████████ ➀⓪⓪ ٪ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ⎯⎯⎯⎯›؊ ᥕᧉᥣᥴ᥆꧑ꫀ ⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯⋯ ⊹ ₊ ˚ ≋ ≋ ≋ ⊹ ₊ ˚

Sunday 7 October 2012 gσσ∂ мσяηιηg sms gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → нєу ѕℓєєριηg вιя∂! ¢σмє вα¢к ƒяσм тнє ∂яєαмѕ ηєω ∂αу нαѕ вєєη ѕтαятє∂ ωєℓ¢σмє тσ αησтнєя ℓσνєℓу мσяηιηg нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу. → ѕυη gℓσωѕ ƒσя α ∂αу, ¢αη∂ℓє ƒσя αη нσυя, мαт¢нѕтι¢к ƒσя α мιηυтє, вυт α gσσ∂ ∂αу ¢αη gℓσω ƒσяєνєя, ѕσ ѕтαят υя ∂αу ωιтн α ѕмιℓє нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…! → мαу уσυ вєgιη тнιѕ ∂αу ωιтн α ѕмιℓє ση уσυя ƒα¢є, αη∂ ωιтн нαρριηєѕѕ ƒσя уσυя ѕσυℓ тσ ємвяα¢є. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ℓσνє → єνєяу ηєω ∂αу ιѕ α ηєω ¢нαρтєя σƒ ℓιƒє вяιηgιηg ηєω тσρι¢ѕ ηєω мσмєηтѕ ƒσя ℓιƒє ι ωιѕн тσ∂αу αℓℓ тнє gσσ∂ мσмєηтѕ αρρяσα¢н ωαу тσ мαкє уσυя ∂αу נσуƒυℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ησ ѕнα∂σωѕ тσ ∂єρяєѕѕ υ, σηℓу נσуѕ тσ ѕυяяσυη∂ υ, ƒяιєη∂ѕ тσ ℓυν υ, αη∂ gσ∂ нιмѕєℓƒ тσ вℓєѕѕ υ. тнєѕє я му ωιѕнєѕ ƒσя тσ∂αу, тσмσяяσω & єνєяу∂αу. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…!! → кησ¢к!!!кησ¢к!!! мαу ι ¢σмє ιηтσ υя ωσяℓ∂???ι вяιηg ησ ƒℓσωєяѕ,ησ ¢αкєѕ,вυт ωιѕнєѕ тσ кєєρ υ ƒяєѕн,ρяαуєя тσ кєєρ υ нєαℓтну,αη∂ ℓσνє тσ кєєρ υ ѕмιℓιηg...gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.... → gσσ∂ мσяηιηg “נυѕт ƒσя уσυ” “мυѕт ƒσя уσυ” “ƒιяѕт ƒσя уσυ” “ησтнιηg тσ ωιѕн” “ησтнιηg 2 ѕαу” “”αℓωαуѕ вє нαρρу” “ιтѕ му ρяαу” “нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу:-) → ι נυѕт ℓσνє ωнєη мσяηιηg gєтѕ нєяє, ¢υz ι ¢αη ѕєη∂ α gяєαт вιg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ тσ му вєѕтєѕт ƒяιєη∂.ωнαт α ℓσνєℓу ωαу тσ ѕтαят му ∂αу → α ѕρє¢ιαℓ вяєαкƒαѕт 4 υ ιη тнє нσтєℓ σƒ му нєαят α вσυℓ σƒ ℓσνє α ѕρσση σƒ ¢ÄяÉ мєηυ ιѕ ƒяη∂ѕнιρ ραу тнє вιℓℓ ву υя ¢υтє ѕмιℓє. =g= υ= ∂= м=σ=я=η=ι=η=g → нєℓℓσ, ωαкєυρ, яє¢єινє му ѕιмρℓє gιƒт σƒ \'gσσ∂ мσяηιηg\' ωяαρρє∂ ωιтн ѕιη¢єяιту, тιє∂ ωιтн ¢αяє αη∂ ѕєαℓє∂ ωιтн α ρяαуєя тσ кєєρ υ ѕαƒє αη∂ нαρρу αℓℓ ∂αу ℓσηg! тαкє ¢αяє! → мσяηιηg ¢σσℓηєѕѕ, яιѕιηg ѕυη, ѕιηgιηg вιя∂ѕ, мєℓтιηg ∂єω, αℓσηg ωιтн тнιѕ ℓιттℓє нєαят ωιѕнιηg уσυ α νєяу gℓσяισυѕ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє ѕυη нαѕ ση¢є вяσυgнт вяιgнтηєѕѕ тσ єαятн! ℓαzу вσηє. ιт\'ѕ тιмє 2 ωαкє υρ g∂ мσяηιηg... → 5 ѕтєρѕ тσ єνєяу ℓσνєℓу мσяηιηg тнιѕ уєαя. ¢ℓσѕє уσυя єуєѕ, тαкє α ∂єєρ вяєαтн, σρєη уσυя αямѕ ωι∂є, ƒєєℓ уσυя нєαят вєαт &αмρ; ѕαу… нєяє ι αм σн ℓσя∂, ємвяα¢є мє &αмρ; вє му ѕтяєηgтн тσ∂αу!!! → ιт мαкєѕ мє ѕσ нαρρу, тнιѕ ιѕ ωнαт ι м gσηηα ∂σ, ѕєη∂ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ яιgнт вα¢к тσ уσυυυ, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяιєη∂, нανє α вєαя gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → αη нσηєѕт ѕмιℓє ƒяσм α ѕмιℓιηg нєαят, ¢яσѕѕιηg мαηу кιℓσмєтєяѕ, нαѕ נυѕт яєα¢нє∂ тσ уσυя ιηвσχ, ωιѕнιηg уσυ α νєяу нαρρу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → єαяℓу тнιѕ мσяηιηg gσ∂ gανє мє 3 вαѕкєтѕ σƒ ƒяυιтѕ - ℓσνє + нαρριηєѕѕ + ρєα¢є σƒ мιη∂ αη∂ тσℓ∂ мє 2 ѕнαяє тнєм ωιтн ρρℓ ∂єαя 2 мє. ι\'м ѕнαяιηg αℓℓ ωιтн υ... gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → αℓℓ мσяηιηgѕ αяє ℓιкє ραιηтιηgѕ:- уσυ ηєє∂ α ℓιттℓє ιηѕριяαтιση тσ gєт gσιηg, α ℓιттℓє ѕмιℓє тσ вяιgнтєη υρ &αмρ; ѕмѕ ƒяσм ѕσмєσηє ωнσ ¢αяєѕ тσ ¢σℓσя уσυя ∂αу…gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…..нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу.. → ωιтн ρєтαℓѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ,ραℓм ƒυℓℓ σƒ нσℓℓу ωαтєя,ℓιgнт σƒ ƒυℓℓ ѕυη,ƒяαgяαη¢є σƒ ƒℓσωєя αη∂ gяαѕѕ ωιтн ∂єω.ι ωιѕн υ α νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.... → α мσяηιηg ιѕ α ωση∂єяƒυℓ вℓєѕѕιηg, єιтнєя ¢ℓσυ∂у σя ѕυηηу. ιт ѕтαη∂ѕ ƒσя нσρє, gινιηg υѕ αησтнєя ѕтαят σƒ ωнαт ωє ¢αℓℓ ℓιƒє. нανє α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → ωαкє υρ &αмρ; ωιηк тнσѕє тєєηу ωєєηу єуєѕ. ѕтяєт¢н тнσѕє ιηzу ωιηηу вσηєѕ, ωєαя тнαт נσℓℓу ωιηηιηg ѕмιℓє &αмρ; тєℓℓ уσυяѕєℓƒ тσ∂αу ιѕ α вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂αу, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…, → ρℓєαѕє нανє α ¢σƒƒєє σƒ ωαям ѕмѕ ωιтн ѕυgαя σƒ ѕωєєт ωιѕнєѕ ρяєραяє∂ ѕρє¢ιαℓℓу ƒσя уσυ αт тнιѕ ¢σℓ∂ мσяηιηg ƒяσм мє. ηєνєя мιη∂ ιƒ ѕυgαя ιѕ ℓιттℓє, в¢σz ι’νє ρяєραяє∂ ιт ƒσя тнє 1ѕт тιмє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → тнє ѕυη нα∂ яαιѕє∂ ƒяσм тнє єαѕт &αмρ; вιя∂ѕ αяє ѕιηgιηg нαρριℓу &αмρ; вυттєяƒℓιєѕ αяє αяσυη∂ тнє ƒℓσωєяѕ. ιт ιѕ тιмє тσ ωαкє υρ &αмρ; gινє α вιg уαωηιηg &αмρ; ѕαу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg тσ уσυ.. → тяєαт єνєяуσηє ωιтн ρσℓιтєηєѕѕ,єνєη тнσѕє ωнσ αяє яυ∂є тσ υ.....ησт вє¢αυѕє тнєу αяє ησт ηι¢є,вυт в¢σz υ αяє ηι¢є....!!!**gσσ∂ мσяηιηg** → м-αкє тнє мσѕт σƒ ιт. σ-ρєη уσυя нєαят αη∂ мιη∂. я-ємємвєя тσ тнαηк gσ∂. η-єνєя ƒяσωη ι-мαgιηє мє η-σтнιηg тσ ωσяяу. g-σσ∂ мσяηιηg! ωιѕн уσυ нανє ηι¢є ∂αу &αмρ; σƒ ¢συяѕє gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ηєω мσяηιηg+ ηєω αιм+ ηєω α¢нιєνємєηт + υя ∂є∂ι¢αтιση + ¢σммιтмєηт=ѕυ¢¢єѕѕ...נυѕт ∂σ ιт αη∂ ωιη ιт gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.... → ι נυѕт ℓσνє ωнєη мσяηιηg gєтѕ нєяє, вє¢αυѕє ι ¢αη ѕєη∂ α gяєαт вιg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ тσ му вєѕт ƒяιєη∂. ωнαт α ℓσνєℓу ωαу тσ ѕтαят му ∂αу. → мσяηιηg gяєєтιηgѕ ∂σєѕη’т σηℓу мєαη ѕαуιηg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, ιт нαѕ αѕιℓєηт мєѕѕαgє ѕαуιηg: ι яємємвєя уσυ ωнєη ι ωαкє υρ! нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу! → α ѕнιηιηg αηgєℓ ѕтαη∂ѕ вєѕι∂є уσυя ѕιℓку вє∂ ¢αℓℓιηg уσυя ηι¢є ηαмє ѕσ ѕσƒтℓу тняσωιηg ƒℓσωєяѕ ση уσυ αη∂ ѕαуιηg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу → αℓωαуѕ αѕк gσ∂ тσ gινє уσυ ωнαт уσυ ∂єѕєяνє,ησт ωнαт уσυ ∂єѕιяє.уσυя ∂єѕιяєѕ мαу вє ƒєω вυт уσυ ∂єѕєяνє α ℓσт.... gσσ∂ мσяηιηg.. → ωιтн ρєтαℓѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ,ραℓм ƒυℓℓ σƒ нσℓℓу ωαтєя, ℓιgнт σƒ ƒυℓℓ ѕυη,ƒяαgяαη¢є σƒ ƒℓσωєя αη∂ gяαѕѕ ωιтн ∂єω. ι ωιѕн уσυ α νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…. → ι тнιηк υ я νєяу ¢αяєℓєѕѕ! υ ¢σмє &αмρ; ℓєανє тнιηgѕ вєнιη∂! ѕєє ησω ωнαт υ нαν ℓєƒт! υ נυѕт ¢αмє ιη му мιη∂ &αмρ; ℓєƒт α ѕмιℓє ση му ƒα¢є. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂яєαмѕ нαѕ ¢σмє тяυє. тнє ℓιттℓє ¢υтє вιя∂ѕ αяє ѕιηgιηg ƒσя уσυ. тнє яαуѕ σƒ ѕυη αяє тσυ¢нιηg уσυя вєαυтιƒυℓ єуєѕ αη∂ ∂ιѕтυявιηg уσυ ƒσя ωιѕнιηg gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → ηєω ∂αу ηєω вℓєѕѕιηg.∂ση”т ℓєт уєѕтєя∂αу”ѕ ƒαιℓυяєѕ яυιη тнє вєαυту σƒ тσ∂αу,вє¢αυѕє єα¢н ∂αу нαѕ ιтѕ σωη ρяσмιѕє σƒ ℓσνє,נσу,ƒσяgινєηєѕѕ….. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ι ωιѕн gσ∂ мα∂є мє α ѕмѕ, ѕσ тнαт ι ¢αη яєα¢н уσυ ιη 5 ѕє¢, ¢σѕт υ ησтнιηg, υ\'ℓℓ яєα∂ мє &αмρ; ι ¢υ∂ ¢ υ ѕмιℓιηg ωнι¢н ιѕ ωσятн α мιℓℓιση 4мє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → 5 ѕтєρѕ тσ α ℓσνєℓу мσяηιηg.. 1- σρєη уσυя єуєѕ. 2- тαкє α ∂єєρ вяєαтн. 3- ѕмιℓє α вιт. 4- σρєη уσυя αямѕ ωι∂є. 5- ѕαу, “ιтѕ тσσ єαяℓу. ℓєтѕ ѕℓєєρ αgαιη.” → вєƒσяє ƒα¢ιηg α ηєω ∂αу, вσω уσυя нєα∂ &αмρ; ѕαу тнιѕ ρяαуєя: “тнαηк уσυ gσ∂ ƒσя тнιѕ αмαzιηgℓу ∂αѕнιηg ѕєη∂єя. мαу нιѕ ѕмαятηєѕѕ ιηѕριяє мє αℓℓ ∂αу ℓσηg” gσσ∂ мσяηιηg!! → тнє ѕмιℓє ιѕ ℓιкє α ѕιм¢αя∂ αη∂ ℓιƒє ιѕ ℓιкє α ¢єℓℓρнσηє,ωнєηєνєя уσυ ιηѕєят тнє ѕιм¢αя∂ σƒ α ѕмιℓє α вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂αу ιѕ α¢тιναтє∂...gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ∂я’ѕ ρяєѕ¢яιρтιση ƒσя тσ∂αу.α ¢υтє ℓιттℓє ѕмιℓє ƒσя вяєαкƒαѕт. мσяє ℓαυgн ƒσя ℓυη¢н,ℓσтѕ σƒ нαρριηєѕѕ ƒσя ∂ιηηєя,∂я”ѕ ƒєє… ωнσℓє ∂αу тнιηк σƒ мє….gσσ∂ мσяηιηg… → ∂σ уσυ кησω тнє мєαηιηg σƒ мσяηιηg.? мσяηιηg мєαηѕ: σηє мσяє ιηηιηg gινєη ву тнє gσ∂ тσ ρℓαу αη∂ ωιη. ѕσ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу. → ѕιℓєη¢є ιѕ тнє вєѕт ωαу тσ кєєρ αωαу ƒяσм ρяσвℓємѕ. ѕмιℓє ιѕ α ρσωєяƒυℓ тσσℓ тσ ανσι∂ мαηу ρяσвℓємѕ. ѕσ нανє α ѕιℓєηт ѕмιℓє αℓωαуѕ..gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ωιтн ρєтαℓѕ σƒ яσѕєѕ,ραℓм ƒυℓℓ σƒ нσℓℓу ωαтєя, ℓιgнт σƒ ƒυℓℓ ѕυη,ƒяαgяαη¢є σƒ ƒℓσωєя αη∂ gяαѕѕ ωιтн ∂єω. ωιѕн уσυ α νєяу ѕρє¢ιαℓ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…. → вєтωєєη 100000 уєѕтєя∂αуѕ &αмρ; 100000 тσмσяяσωѕ, тнєяє ιѕ σηℓу σηє тσ∂αу αη∂ ι ωσυℓ∂ ησт ℓєт тнιѕ ραѕѕ ωιтнσυт ѕαуιηg тнαηкѕ ƒσя вєιηg ѕυ¢н α ℓσνєℓу ƒяιєη∂… gσσ∂ мσяηιηg………….. → мσяηιηg ιѕ ησт σηℓу ѕυηяιѕє вυт α вєαυтιƒυℓ мιяα¢ℓє σƒ gσ∂ тнαт ∂єƒєαтѕ тнє ∂αякηєѕѕ &αмρ; ѕρяєα∂ ℓιgнт. мαу єνєяу∂αу ѕρяєα∂ ℓιgнт ιη уσυя ωнσℓє ℓιƒє.αмєєη.! “gσσ∂ мσяηιηg“

August 26, 2017 Mom. Where are you???? Leaving walmart. Halfway home. Why sweetie? You brought me to walmart with you -.- OH DARN! Be there in a bit

Apr 25, 2013, 1:45 AM Lol honestly if you were still here I would be lookin towards dating you. You're so sweet and a really good friend and super beautiful. But you're so fat FAR!! I meant far lol

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...

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.

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

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

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. 🔵

ρℓєαsє ωαiτ ωнiℓє iτ ℓσα∂s. █▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ 15% ██▓▓▓▓▓▓ 30% ███▓▓▓▓▓ 45% ████▓▓▓▓ 60% █████▓▓▓ 75% ██████▓▓ 90% ███████▓ 95% ████████ 100%

A͙͚̬ B͙͚̬ C͙͚̬ D͙͚̬ E͙͚̬ F͙͚̬ G͙͚̬ H͙͚̬ I͙͚̬ J͙͚̬ K͙͚̬ L͙͚̬ M͙͚̬ N͙͚̬ O͙͚̬ P͙͚̬ Q͙͚̬ R͙͚̬ S͙͚̬ T͙͚̬ U͙͚̬ V͙͚̬ W͙͚̬ X͙͚̬ Y͙͚̬ Z͙͚̬

( ) ( _ _._ |_|-'_~_`-._ _.-'-_~_-~_-~-_`-._ _.-'_~-_~-_-~-_~_~-_~-_`-._ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ | [] [] [] [] [] | | ____ ___ | ._| []. []| .| [___] |_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._. |=|________()|__|()_______|=|=|=|=|=|=|=|=|=|=|=|=|=|=|=|=|=| ^^^^^^^^^^^^^ === ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ _______ === <_4sale_> === ^|^ === | ===

⠀⠀⠀ .................^v^ ⋱ ⋮ ⋰ ⋯ ◯ ⋯¨. ︵ ...................^v^ ¨︵¸︵( ░░ )︵.︵.︵..............^v^ (´░░░░░░ ') ░░░' ) `´︶´¯`︶´`︶´︶´`︶.....^v^..........^v^ ^v^....▄▀▀──▄▀▀▄─▄▀▀▄─█▀▄....^v^.... ^v^....█─▀█─█──█─█──█─█─█....^v^.... ^v^....─▀▀───▀▀───▀▀──▀▀─....^v^.... ^v^........^v^........^v^........^v^ █▄─▄█─▄▀▀▄─█▀▄─█▄─█─█─█▄─█─▄▀▀─ █─▀─█─█──█─██▀─█─▀█─█─█─▀█─█─▀█ ▀───▀──▀▀──▀─▀─▀──▀─▀─▀──▀──▀▀─ Fresh Morning with Sunrise and flying birds

RESPONDING TO NO RESPONSE, GHOSTING, CROSSED BOUNDARIES, BEING LEFT ON READ, PEAKING INTEREST, PUTTING EFFORT “Hey you! Just wanted to check in and see how your day is going. 😍 Doing anything fun?” “Check it out! I just passed that park where we met all those years ago! 😊” “Maybe we could hang out again soon <2” "I forgot to mention this earlier, but you crushed it at your game yesterday. You were an all star out there." "This was awesome, I'd love to talk to you again." "Maybe I'll talk to you again tomorrow?" “Hey, have you been to one of these classes before?” "What exciting things do you have planned for the weekend?" “I’m so sorry for your loss🖤” “You’re not in this alone <3” “I’ll always be here for you <3” “Thanks for helping me today🖤” “You’ll NEVER believe what happened today! 🤯 Ready to hear some craziness?” “Could I get your opinion on something?” "Oh, remind me tomorrow to tell you about my job interview!" “You’re too nice to me🖤” “Missing you today🖤” "I like you, but I want to get to know you better before I commit to a relationship. Let's hang out as friends and see what happens." “we are both free this weekend and the weather looks nice, so why don't we do something together” “I can’t wait to see them! 🤌⚔️” "hey, I just started watching (name of TV show). Who is your favorite character or what was your favorite season". “A zombie just ran into my room, but I took care of it. I’m tough like that.” “Why is this GIF so funny? 🤣” "I’m bored. What do you like to do for fun?" “Oh, that’s okay. Well, it was great to chat with you anyway. Hope you have a good night!” “No worries—I’m glad I at least asked and don’t have to wonder! I hope you have a great day.” “That’s okay! I just wanted to ask. I still think you’re cool and will see you in class.” “It seems like you’re mad at me about something. What do you want? 🤌” “Oops, I think my phone messed up! Sorry! 😅 I’ve been meaning to say hi, though—how have you been?” “Sorry, phone glitch! It’s been a while since we talked, though. What’s new in your life? 😊”

→ мσяηιηg ιѕ α gσσ∂ тιмє тσ яємємвєя αℓℓ тнє ѕωєєт тнιηgѕ αη∂ αℓℓ ѕωєєт ρєяѕσηѕ ιη уσυя ℓιƒє ѕσ ωαкє υρ ωιтн уσυя уσυя ∂яєαмѕ gσσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнαηк уσυ ƒσя ωαкιηg мє υρ. α ωαям gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, αƒтєя ѕωєєт ∂яєαмѕ σƒ ℓαѕт ηιgнт. ωιѕн уσυ α gσσ∂ ∂αу ωιтн gσσ∂ мσяηιηg:) → ιт мαкєѕ мє ѕσ нαρρу, тнιѕ ιѕ ωнαт ι м gσηηα ∂σ, ѕєη∂ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ѕмѕ яιgнт вα¢к тσ уσυ, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяιєη∂, нανє α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → уσυя ѕσυℓ ¢αмє вα¢к ƒяσм ∂яєαмℓ αη∂ яє-υηιтє∂ ωιтн α ѕℓєєριηg ѕєηѕєℓєѕѕ ριє¢є σƒ уσυяѕєℓƒ ѕℓσωℓу σρєη υя єуєѕ яєαℓιzє ιтѕ α вяαη∂ ηєω ∂αу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ωє’яє ησт тσσ ¢ℓσѕє ιη ∂ιѕтαη¢є. ωє’яє ησт тσσ ηєαя ιη мιℓєѕ. вυт тєχт ¢αη ѕтιℓℓ тσυ¢н συя нєαятѕ αη∂ тнσυgнтѕ ¢αη вяιηg υѕ ѕмιℓєѕ. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → тнє ѕυη нα∂ яιѕє ƒяσм тнє єαѕт &αмρ; вιя∂ѕ я ѕιηgιηg нαρριℓу &αмρ; вυттєяƒℓιєѕ αяє αяσυη∂ тнє ƒℓσωєяѕ. ιт ιѕ тιмє тσ ωαкє υρ &αмρ; gινє α вιg уαωη &αмρ; ѕαу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg тσ уσυ.. → тнє ωσя∂ ‘нєℓℓσ’ мєαηѕ н=нσω я υ? є=єνєяутнιηg αℓℓ яιgнт? ℓ=ℓιкє 2 нєαя 4ям υ. ℓ=ℓσνє 2 ¢ υ ѕσση. σ=σвνισυѕℓу, ι мιѕѕ уσυ! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяєιη∂ → αℓℓ ∂ α¢нιєνємєηтѕ ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂ я мα∂є ву ρєσρℓє ωнσ нα∂ ∂ ¢συяαgє тσ ησт тσ ℓιѕтєη тσ ∂ ¢яσω∂.. вυт.. ∂σ ωαт тнєу ƒєℓт ωαѕ яιgнт?? тнιηк!! gυ∂ мσяηιηg!! → уσυя ѕσυℓ ¢αмє вα¢к ƒяσм ∂яєαмℓαη∂ яєυηιтє∂ ωιтн α ѕℓєєριηg ѕєηѕєℓєѕѕ ριє¢є σƒ уσυяѕєℓƒ ѕℓσωℓу σρєη уσυя єує яєαℓιzє ιтѕ α вяαη∂ ηєω ∂αу. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → gσ∂ ωιℓℓ ησт gινє υ α вυя∂єη υ ¢αη’т нαη∂ℓє. ѕσ, ιƒ υ ƒιη∂ υяѕєℓƒ ιη α мєѕѕ тнαт’ѕ ιмρσѕѕιвℓє тσ яєѕσℓνє, тαкє ιт αѕ α ¢σмρℓιмєηт-gσ∂ тнιηкѕ υ ¢αη ∂σ ιт! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку ωιтн тнє ωαямєѕт ѕмιℓє, нє ωιѕнєѕ уσυ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, нσριηg тнαт уσυ нανє тнє ρєяƒє¢т ∂αу. тαкє ¢αяє &αмρ; мιѕѕ уσυ. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → αвσνє тнє ∂αяк нσяιzση ѕσση ηєω ℓιgнт яαуѕ ωιℓ αρρєαя. тнєу ѕιgηιƒу тσ αℓℓ тнє ωσяℓ∂ α ƒяєѕн ηєω ∂αу ιѕ нєяє gσσ∂ мσяηιηg: → gσσ∂ мσяηιηg αℓωαуѕ ωєℓ¢σмє α ηєω ∂αу ωιтн α”ѕмιℓє”ση уσυя ℓιρѕ, “ℓσνє”ιη уσυя “нєαят” &αмρ; “gσσ∂ тнσυgнтѕ”ιη уσυя “мιη∂” &αмρ; уσυ’ℓℓ нανє α ωση∂єяƒυℓ ∂αу → α вιя∂ тнαт уσυ ѕєт ƒяєє мαу вє ¢αυgнт αgαιη, вυт α ωσя∂ тнαт єѕ¢αρєѕ уσυя ℓιρѕ ωιℓℓ ησт яєтυяη … ѕσ тнιηк вєƒσяє уσυ ℓєαρ g σ.σ ∂ мσяηιηg → тнє ωσя∂ ‘нєℓℓσ’ мєαηѕ н=нσω я υ? є=єνєяутнιηg αℓℓ яιgнт? ℓ=ℓιкє 2 нєαя 4ям υ. ℓ=ℓσνє 2 ¢ υ ѕσση. σ=σвνισυѕℓу, ι мιѕѕ уσυ! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg му ƒяιєη∂ → σηє ∂αу мση∂αу ωєηт тσтυєѕ∂αу тσ ѕєє ωє∂ηєѕ∂αу αη∂ αѕк тнυяѕ∂αу ωнєαтнєя ƒя∂αу нαѕ тσℓ∂ ѕαтυя∂αу тнαт ѕυη∂αу ιѕ α ƒυη ∂αу....gσσ∂ мσяηιηg... → тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку тнє ѕυη яιѕєѕ ιηтσ тнє ѕку ωιтн тнє ωαямєѕт ѕмιℓє, нє ωιѕнєѕ уσυ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg, нσριηg тнαт уσυ нανє тнє ρєяƒє¢т ∂αу. тαкє ¢αяє &αмρ; мιѕѕ уσυ. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ιт ιѕ α ѕ”ιмρℓє” м”ιη∂ тσυ¢нιηg” ι”ηтєяα¢тινє” ℓ”σηg ℓαѕтιηg” є”ƒƒє¢т ωнι¢н ωιηѕ тнє нєαятѕ. уєѕ.. ιтѕ уσυя “ѕωєєт ѕмιℓє” ѕσ кєєρ ѕмιℓιηg αℓωαуѕ, gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → α ∂αу мαу ѕтαят σя єη∂ ωιтнσυт α мєѕѕαgє ƒяσм мє, вυт вєℓιєνє мє ιт ωση\'т ѕтαят σя єη∂ ωιтнσυт мє тнιηкιηg σƒ υ... gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → gєт υρ ƒяσм уσυя ѕσƒту ѕσƒту вє∂… σρєη уσυя… тєєηу ωєєηу єуєѕ… ωαѕн уσυя ριηку ѕнιηку ƒα¢є… вє¢αυѕє… ѕσмє σηє ωαηтѕ тσ ωιѕн уσυ… gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → мσяηιηg νσι¢єѕ υк: нι ∂єαя υѕα:gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ¢нιηα мєнσω נαραη:ѕнαηнσω ιтαℓу:мαηι¢нι ιη∂ια:ηαмαѕтαу ƒяαη¢є:ѕαη¢нαу ιη∂ια: υтн вαιgнαяαт, ѕυвαн к 8 вαנ gαує нαιη → (g)яαρєѕ (σ)яαηgє ѕαρ(σ)тα (∂)αтєѕ (м)αηgσ ρ(σ)мєgяαηαтє ѕт(я)αωвєяяу ωαтєя-мєℓσ(η) ρ(ι)ηєαρρℓє вα(η)αηα (g)υανα нανє α ƒяυιту ∂αу.. → нι,ησω ι αм ¢σмιηg тσ мєєт υ… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ ѕυη ℓιgнт… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ ѕωєєт вяєєzє… ιη тнє ωαу σƒ gσσ∂ ωιѕнєѕ… נυѕт тσ ѕαу gσσ∂ мσяηιηg… → ∂єαя ¢υѕтσмєя, уσυя яємαιηιηg ѕℓєєριηg тιмє нαѕ єχριяє∂. ѕσ ρℓєαѕє ℓєανє уσυя вє∂ αη∂ gєт υρ. αη∂ ѕαу т0 αℓℓ g00∂ м0яηιηg нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу !!! → ησ мαη ιη тнιѕ ωσяℓ∂ ιѕ яι¢н єησυgн тσ вυу нιѕ σωη ραѕт. єηנσу єα¢н мσмєηт вєƒσяє ιт gєтѕ вєуση∂ яєα¢н. нανє gσσ∂ ∂αу! → ωяαρ α яαιηвσω σƒ נσу ιη уσυ нєαят, ℓєт тнє ѕυη ραιηт α ѕмιℓє ση уσυя ƒα¢є, яємσνє αℓℓ ¢ℓσυ∂ѕ σƒ ∂συвт &αмρ; ƒєαя αη∂ яє¢єινє gσ∂’ѕ gιƒт σƒ ℓιƒє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg! → мσяηιηg ιѕ ησт σηℓу ѕυηяιѕє вυт α вєαυтιƒυℓ мιяα¢ℓє σƒ gσ∂ тнαт ∂єƒєαтѕ ∂αякηєѕѕ &αмρ; ѕρяєα∂ѕ ℓιgнт. мαу уσυ нανє α вєαυтιƒυℓ ∂αу αℓωαуѕ..!! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → gσ∂ ωιℓℓ ησт gινє уσυ α вυя∂єη, уσυ ¢αη’т нαη∂ℓє. ѕσ, ιƒ уσυ ƒιη∂ уσυяѕєℓƒ ιη α мєѕѕ тнαт’ѕ ιмρσѕѕιвℓє тσ яєѕσℓνє, тαкє ¢нαℓℓєηgє αѕ α ¢σмρℓιмєηт. gσ∂ тнιηкѕ уσυ ¢αη ∂σ ιт! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → ѕιℓєηт ιη мσυтн мαу ανσι∂ мαηу ρяσвℓємѕ.. вυт.. ѕмιℓє ιη мσυтн мαу ѕσℓνє αℓℓ тнє ρяσвℓємѕ.. ѕσ αℓωαуѕ нανє α ѕωєєт, ѕιℓєηт ѕмιℓє… ωιѕн уσυ α gσσ∂ мσяηιηg αη∂ ηι¢є ∂αу. → ωнαтєνєя ιѕ вєαυтιƒυℓ, ωнαтєνєя ιѕ мєαηιηgƒυℓ, ωнαтєνєя gινєѕ уσυ нαρριηєѕѕ мαу αℓℓ тнαт вє уσυя тσ∂αу, тσмσяяσω &αмρ; ƒσяєνєя , gσö∂ мσяηιηg → αη ι∂єαℓ ∂αу ѕнσυℓ∂ вєgιη ωιтн α ¢υтє ℓιттℓє уαωη ση уσυя ƒα¢є, α ¢υρ σƒ ¢σƒƒєє ιη уσυя нαη∂ &αмρ; α ѕмѕ ƒяσм мє ση уσυя мσвιℓє?! нανє α gяєαт ∂αу! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg. → ѕιмρℓє мυѕι¢ ¢αη мαкє уσυ ѕιηg, α ѕιмρℓє нυg ¢αη мαкє уσυ ƒєєℓ вєттєя, ѕιмρℓє тнιηgѕ ¢αη мαкє уσυ нαρρу. нσρє му ѕιмρℓє нι…!!! ωιℓℓ мαкє уσυ ѕмιℓє …gσσ∂ мσяηιηg…. → gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ωιтн α gяєαт ℓιgнт σƒ ѕυη ωιтн тнє ѕσηgѕ σƒ вιя∂ѕ ωιтн тнє gяєαт αzααη σƒ мαѕנι∂ ωιтн тнє qυяααη ωιтн тнє нαρριηєѕѕ ωιтн α gяєαт ѕмιℓє αη∂ ωιтн тнє мσяηιηg ρяαуєя нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу → мσяηιηg вєαυту ωιтн ¢σσℓ αη∂ ѕσƒт вяєєzє αяє яємιη∂єяѕ тнαт αℓℓαн ℓσνєѕ уσυ. ѕσ уσυ ѕнσυℓ∂ єηנσу тнє ∂αу αη∂ мαкє уσυ ∂αу α мємσяαвℓє αη∂ ℓσναвℓє ∂αу! “gσσ∂ мσяηιηg”:-* → ∂σηт яєα∂ ѕυ¢¢єѕѕ ѕтσяу яєα∂ σηℓу ƒαιℓυяє ѕтσяу, в’¢σz, ƒαιℓυяє ѕтσяу уσυ gєт ηєω ι∂єα тσ ωιη, ƒяσм ѕυ¢¢єѕѕ ѕтσяу уσυ gєт σηℓу мєѕѕαgє. gσσ∂ мσяηιηg тσ υ → ¢нєєяƒυℓ ρєσρℓє αяє ℓιкє ѕυηℓιgнт. тнєу ѕнιηє ιη тσ тнє ¢σяηєяѕ σƒ тнє нєαят &αмρ; σƒƒєя вяιgнт мσяηιηgѕ &αмρ; ƒяєѕн нσρєѕ. **gσσ∂ мσяηιηg** тσ σηє ѕυ¢н ρєяѕση… → нι тσ ѕωєєт ρєяѕση ωнσ ραѕѕє∂ ѕωєєт ηιgнт ωιтн α ѕωєєт ∂яєαм, ησω ωαηт тσ ραѕѕ ѕωєєт ∂αу ωιтн ѕωєєт тαℓк, нανє α ѕωєєт ∂αу, нανє α ѕωєєт мσяηιηg!!! → “тнє мιηυтє уσυ тнιηк σƒ gινιηg υρ αηу яєℓαтιση, тнιηк σƒ тнє яєαѕση ωну уσυ нєℓ∂ ιт ѕσ ℓσηg” gσσ∂ мσяηιηg αη∂ нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу. → ησω ѕυη ιѕ нαρρу αη∂ мσση ιѕ υρѕєт вє¢αυѕє мσση ιѕ мιѕѕιηg уσυ αη∂ ѕυη ιѕ ωιтн уσυ нανє α gяєαт αη∂ ℓσνєℓу ∂αу → нαρριηєѕѕ ιѕ ησт ѕσмєтнιηg υ ρσѕтρσηє 4 тнє ƒυтυяє. ιт’’ѕ ѕσмєтнιηg υ ∂єѕιgη 4 тнє ρяєѕєηт. мαкє єα¢н мσмєηт α нαρρу σηє. ι נυѕт ∂ι∂ ιт ву яємємвєяιηg υ! gσσ∂ мσяηιηg &αмρ; нανє α ηι¢є ∂αу → g-gєт υρ σ-σρєη уσυя єуєѕ σ-συт σƒ уσυя вє∂ ∂-∂αу нαѕ яιѕєη м-мєяяу ℓιƒє σ-σℓ∂ ∂яєαмѕ ¢σмє тяυє я-яιѕє αη∂ ѕнιηє η-ηєω ƒяιєη∂ѕ ι-ι∂єαѕ σƒ ℓιƒє η-ηι¢є ƒυтυяє g-gσσ∂∂αу 4 υ! → αη єχ¢єℓℓєηт ѕαуιηg “тнє ∂яєαм ιѕ ησт ωнαт уσυ ѕєє ιη ѕℓєєρ, ∂яєαм ιѕ тнє тнιηg ωнι¢н ∂σєѕ ησт ℓєт уσυ ѕℓєєρ.” gσσ∂ мσяηιηg → мαηу ρєσρℓє яєαℓιzє тнєιя нєαят’ѕ ∂єѕιяєѕ ℓαтє ιη ℓιƒє ¢σηтιηυє ℓєαяηιηg ηєνєя ѕтσρ ѕтяινιηg &αмρ; кєєρ уσυя ¢υяισѕιту ѕнαяρ &αмρ; уσυ’ℓℓ ηєνєя вє¢σмє тσσ σℓ∂ тσ αρρяє¢ιαтє ℓιƒє ~ gσσ∂ мσяηιηg ~ → єνєяу ѕυηѕєт gινєѕ υѕ, σηє ∂αу ℓєѕѕ тσ ℓινє! вυт єνєяу ѕυηяιѕє gινє υѕ, σηє ∂αу мσяє тσ нσρє! ѕσ, нσρє ƒσя тнє вєѕт. gσσ∂ ∂αу &αмρ; gσσ∂ ℓυ¢к! Posted by Kiran Bele at 05:55

°˛ ° ˚* _Π_____*☽*˚ ˛ ✩ ˚˛˚*/______/__＼。✩˚ ˚˛ ♡ ˚ ˛˚˛˚｜ 田田｜門｜ ˚ ˚ ´´ ̛ ̛ ´´ ´´ ´´ ̛ ̛ ´´ ´´ ´´ ̛ ̛ ´´ ´´ ´´ ̛ ̛

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

🌱🍄🌻🌿🐛🌷🍎🍀🍓🥕☘️🍃🐦🌳🌾🍁🍂🏔️🏞️🐚🌊

RESPONDING TO NO RESPONSE, GHOSTING, CROSSED BOUNDARIES, BEING LEFT ON READ, PEAKING INTEREST, PUTTING EFFORT "Hey I haven't heard from you in a while. Is everything okay?" “Hey, I’m not sure what happened between us, but I’d really like some closure. I’d like to see things from your perspective.” “Nothing hurts me more than seeing I hurt you.” “I want to be able to move on from this, but I know it’s not entirely my decision.” “Who I was during that fight isn’t me. I let my anger take control, and I know that really hurt you. I’m so sorry.” “I understand now how what I said brought you pain.” “I’m really sorry about the other night.” “I can’t express to you how sorry I am feeling about what happened.” “I never meant to hurt your feelings. I promise to do better next time.” “Let me know what you need right now.” “🥺 Let me know if you need anything. You’re going to get through this no matter what.” “Hey, I noticed you haven’t responded. If there’s something going on, I’m here for you.” “We’re all cheering for you!!! 🧡🎉” “You know I’m always here for you! No matter what 🧡” “I liked hanging out with you today too ❤️” “I just heard the song we danced to on. That night was so much fun 😘” “I’m making a playlist 🥰 What songs do you think I should include?” “Aw, look at this pic I found! Aren’t we so cute? 🥰” “Ugh, I want her dress 💚” “Check out the view from! Isn’t it great? 😆What’s your favorite place to go?” "Thank you for surprising me with lunch today! I had a great time. 😊" “Hey, how’d that project at work go? You were working so hard on it!” “Hehe you just made my day! 🙂” "How'd dinner go? I hope you had a good time! ❤️" "Are you having fun with your friends? Say hi for me! 😊" “You said you had a meet yesterday, right? How’d that go?” “I apologize if this is a little bit forward, but...” “Whoops, probably shouldn’t have done that! 😜” “Okay I’ll just be quiet I guess 😶” "Oh, come on. You have to give me a hint! 🥺" "Not fair?! I think it was super nice to send you that selfie. I'm a giver. 😇" "Hey! You take initiative. I like that. 👍" “You won’t believe what happened last night! 🤪🎉🍺” “Looking forward to tomorrow night! Ready to get glam? 👀✨” “Just wanted to wish you good night. Sleep well, and have sweet dreams! ✨” "Good night and sweet dreams! I'll see you tomorrow. 💋🌙"

RESPONDING TO NO RESPONSE, GHOSTING, CROSSED BOUNDARIES, BEING LEFT ON READ, PEAKING INTEREST, PUTTING EFFORT "How was your day/weekend?" “I can’t wait for the weekend.” “Missed you in school today!😘” “Hey, what’s up?😊” “How’s it going? 💖” “I think my friends and I are going to a movie tomorrow. Wanna come join?” “Thanks anyway” “You have such a great sense of style.” “Cute outfit!” “Your smile is amazing.” “Looks fun!” “What’s your favorite thing to do in your spare time?” “Oh, you’re going out of town this weekend? Will you be taking your private jet?” "I'm really happy we get to know each other this year." "You don't have to feel the same way as I do, but I really need to tell you that I like you a lot." "I don't want you to feel weird or pressured! I just want to let you know how I feel." "I know this seems like a lot at once. I've clearly had a lot more time to think about it than you. But I'm here for you if you want to talk about it more." "I'm really happy when I'm with you and I want this chance to make you as happy as you make me. Will you go out with me to dinner and give me that chance?" Hey, I'm not sure what's up, but I've noticed that you're kind of upset with me. I hope I haven't done something to. What's up?" "That's good to know. I'm working on being a better person, and not doing ________." "Never lose your faith in yourself. I believe in you and the incredible future you have ahead of you.” "Hope you remember me when you’re rich and famous.” “I’m so proud of you! 🥹 You were amazing on tonight!” “Your short story was so personal and touching 🥹 I loved it!” “Just know that I’m here for you if you ever need anything 🤍” “I’d never turn my back on you, sis! 💙 I’m here for you till the end of time. ⌛” “You can have faith in me! 💙 I’ll never spill your secrets. 😶” “No one can ever turn me against you. 💙 I’ll fight for your honor! 🤺 🤣” “Sorry to hear that. Sending you good vibes!” “Wow, that’s rough. Wishing you the best!” “Aw! You’re the best. I’m so glad we’re friends. 💙”

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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.

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

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

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.

~ ✽ ℐ𝓉'𝓈 𝒪𝓀𝒶𝓎 ✽ ~

𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑓𝑒𝑠𝑡 ♡ ୨୧ gunne sax cottagecore dresses ୨୧ moving to the wealthiest part of my town, having a swimming pool at home ୨୧ becoming a master at drawing ruffles, ribbons and lace ୨୧ creating my own fashion brand and being extremely successful ୨୧ excellent grades ୨୧ cute knitted sweaters for winter, a knit bonnet hat, a pair of chunky mary jane shoes, more american apparel basic pleated skirts ୨୧ a reading corner, larger bookshelf, more books, making cute annotations, writing excellent book reviews and being rewarded gifted books because of it, loved ones buying books and gift cards for bookshops ୨୧ not caring about being on my phone at all ୨୧ becoming more flexible, building muscle and getting stronger ୨୧ being able to drink coffee without feeling jittery, anxious and sweating

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.

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

One morning I was at the airport and terrified I wouldn't catch my flight. One woman recognised my anxiety and upon hearing why she took my hand and led me to the front of the security line. She had no idea I was going home to comfort my mum on her cancer diagnosis, but her blind compassion GMH. Jan 8, 2015 at 6:00pm by MI

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.

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January 26th, 2013, 11:34 AM That awkward moment when you trip up in public...

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🐾̶ ˚ 𓈒 ᱸ ₊𓊪ˑ̳ˑ̵͙˳ ᱸ 𓈒

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Darknexx🔞 4 hours ago ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⡶⢶⣦⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⣴⡿⠟⠷⠆⣠⠋⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⡿ ⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣿⣷⣦⣀⣠⣾⡿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠻⢿⡿⠟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⠀⠀⠀⢠⠏⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣀⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡟⢦⡀⠇⠀⠀⣀⠞⠀⠀⠘⡀⢀⡠⠚⣉⠤⠂⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢦⡀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠉⠒⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢧⠔⣉⠤⠒⠒⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⠀⠀⣤⠶⠶⢶⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⡆ ⠀⣀⠤⠒⠒⢺⠒⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠤⠊⠀⢸⠀⡿⠀⡀⠀⣀⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇ ⠈⠀⠀⣠⠴⠚⢯⡀⠐⠒⠚⠉⠀⢶⠂⠀⣀⠜⠀⢿⡀⠉⠚⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⠟ ⠀⠠⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠂⣴⠒⠒⣲⢔⠉⠉⣹⣞⣉⣈⠿⢦⣀⣀⣀⣠⡴⠟⠁

🧚🏻🍄🌱🌿🌻🌹

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 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

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 🎁

‘ᵖᵒᶦˢᵒⁿ ᵒᵘʳ ʰᵃᵇᶦᵗᵃᵗˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʷᵉ ʷᶦˡˡ ᵖᵒᶦˢᵒⁿ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ’

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."

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

⠀⠀⠀⠀🌸🤍🖤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🖤🤍🌸 ⠀⠀🖤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🌸⠀⠀🌸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🖤 🤍⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🖤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🤍 🌸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🌸 🖤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑑𝑎𝑦 ⠀⠀⠀ 🖤 ⠀⠀🤍⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🤍 ⠀⠀⠀⠀🌸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🌸 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🖤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🖤 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🤍⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🤍 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🌸⠀⠀🌸 ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀🖤

♡Benim sonum♡ #فونت_اسم🌸💫 -------------------- ●□■♤♡◇♧▪☆•°○ -|~༗༽༼〠㋡⍨જᨖ⛇ྉ༈࿇༒✶✭✬⍟~| |🄰•🄱•🄲•🄳•🄴•🄵•🄶•🄷•🄸•🄹•🄺•🄻•🄼•🄽•🄾•🄿•🅀•🅁•🅂•🅃•🅄•🅅•🅆•🅇•🅈•🅉•|ᴀᬼ -||𖧧 𖣂 𖢭 ຂ✾ ࿚ ࿙ ꪆ ៚៵ࣰ 𖣳 𖤥||- •|ᗩ ᗷᑕᗪEᖴGᕼIᒪKᒪᗰᑎOᑭᑫᖇᔕTᑫᗯ ᙭ ᘔ|• @Benimsonum t.me/Benimsonum /2538 39views Peranses♡ Dardam♡ , Jul 2, 2019 at 04:33

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hatake.kaede May 3 @ 2:55pm 💗💖💙💛💚💜💗💖💙💛💗💖💙 █▀▀█────▄███▄███▄─▄███▄███▄ █──█────█████████─█████████ █──█─────▀█████▀───▀█████▀ █──█───────▀█▀────----─▀█▀ █──█ █──█──────█▀▀█─█───█─█▀▀ █──█▄▄▄▄▄─█──█──█─█──█▀▀ █▄▄▄▄▄▄▄█─█▄▄█───█───█▄▄ 💙💛💚💜💗💖💙💛💚💜💗💙💛 ──░▀▄─────▄▀░▐█▀▀█▌░█░█ ────░▀▄─▄▀──░▐█▄░█▌░█░█ ──────░█────░▐██▄█▌░▀▄▀ ꧁𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓻𝓮 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓬𝓲𝓪𝓵꧂💗💖💙💛 💛💚💜💗💖💙💛💛💚💜💗💖💙

𖧧࿆⸙͎ sᴇᴀʀᴄʜ ʜxɴᴇʏᴄʀɪsᴘ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ <33

Nancye Lorraine Carr .1942 – 17 Jan 1950 Daughter of Roger and Mavis GIRL FATALLY INJURED Nancy Lorraine Carr, 7, of Kingston Street, Camperdown, was fatally injured when she was knocked down by a car in Trafalgar Street, Stanmore, during afternoon. She was playing with other children in the street. She ran out from behind a parked car and was knocked down by another car. Central District Ambulance took her lo the Royal Prince Alfred Hospital, where she past soon after admission. The Sydney Morning Herald, Wednesday 18 January 1950 Rookwood, Cumberland Council, New South Wales, Australia BURIAL Rookwood Catholic Cemeteries and Crematoria Plot info: Catholic Mortuary. Sect M2. Area 15. Row 30. Grave 2681

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 vi (Autistic Author) "Plankton," she says firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. "Let's take a breathe." He glares, his antennae vibrating with agitation. But he does as she says, taking a deep, shaky breath. Chip watches him, eyes wide and full of tears. "Chip," Karen says, her voice calm. "Why don't you go to your room and play for a bit?" Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's face. He slips off the couch, clutching the rock to his chest. But doing so, Chip accidentally touches Plankton when he passes, and Plankton yelps in alarm when Chip brushes his shoulder. "Sorry," Chip whispers. Plankton flinches, his antennae shooting straight up as he jolts back from the contact. "I told you, no touching!" he snaps, his voice a thunderclap in the tense silence. Chip's eyes widen with fear and confusion, his lip quivering as he backs away, holding the rock protectively. "I didn't mean to," he stammers, his voice barely above a whisper. Plankton's antennae wiggle in an exaggerated fashion, his eye rolling dramatically. "Oh, I'm so sorry," he says in a high-pitched mockery of Chip's voice. "I didn't mean to touch you and make everything about me." Karen's face falls, and she knows they've taken a step backward. But she also sees the hurt in Plankton's eye, the pain that he's trying to hide with anger. "Dad," Chip says, quivering. "That's not fair, I..." But Plankton doesn't let him finish. "You know what's not fair?" Plankton spits, his antennae whipping back and forth in fury. "Is having a son who thinks he knows everything about me!" Chip's eyes fill with tears as he stumbles back, clutching the rock tighter. "I just wanted to help," he whispers, his voice breaking. Plankton's in a sarcastic imitation of Chip's movements. "Oh, the great helper," he says, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "You think you can just fix me with your questions and your pity?" Chip's eyes fill with hurt as he watches his father mock his innocent concern. Karen feels a mix of anger and sadness, but she knows she must tread carefully. "Daddy," Chip says, his voice shaking as he puts the rock down, "I'm sorry if I made you mad." But Plankton isn't listening. He picks up the rock and with a sudden, violent movement, he throws it against the wall. It shatters into a hundred pieces, the sound echoing through the room. "Son, I’m sorry if I made you mad!” Plankton's sarcastic tone cuts through the silence like a knife, his antennae flailing wildly. Chip flinches at the sudden outburst, his eyes wide with shock. "That's what you want, right?" Plankton continues, his voice rising. "To fix everything? Sorry doesn't cut it," Plankton snaps, his antennae trembling with rage. "No, Dad," Chip says, his voice barely audible, "I just wanted to understand." But Plankton isn't done. "Oh, I'm sorry, little genius," Plankton says, his voice thick with sarcasm. "Is that what you want to hear?" Chip stares at him, his eyes brimming with tears. "No," he whispers. "I just want you to be okay, I love you!" But Plankton's anger is a living, breathing thing, swirling around him like a storm. "Love isn't enough, Chip!" Plankton yells, his antennae quivering with rage. "You can't just love away my problems! You don't get to decide that for me!" Karen's heart is in her throat, but she forces herself to speak calmly. "Plankton, please," she says, her voice shaking. "You're scaring him." Chip nods. “I just…” But Plankton's fury is unrelenting. "You think a simple game of 'I love you' is going to make everything okay?" Plankton interrupts, his voice a roar that shakes the walls of their tiny underwater home. Chip's eyes fill with confusion, and he takes a step backward, trembling. "But, Dad," he whispers. "But nothing!" Plankton's antennae whip around, and he stands, his whole body vibrating with anger. "You think you can fix me? You think you can just love me and everything will be fine?" Karen tries to interject, but Plankton's rage is like a tidal wave, crashing over everything in its path. "You think you gotta have the last word just to show how great and special you are Chip. But in the real world No means No so BACK OFF." Chip's eyes widen, and he stumbles backward, the shattered rock on the floor a stark reminder of Plankton's outburst. "Daddy," he whispers, his voice trembling. Plankton's antennae only stiffen further. "I'm sorry, Chip," Karen says, her voice a thread of calm in the storm. "Let's go to your room, okay?" Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton, who's still standing with his antennae flailing. Karen can see the hurt in her son's gaze, and it breaks her heart. She helps him off the couch, and together, they navigate the shards of rock on the floor. As they leave the room, Karen casts a sorrowful glance at Plankton, who's now slumped into the couch, his antennae drooping. The anger seems to have drained out of him, leaving behind a tired, defeated creature. In Chip's room, Karen helps her son sit on the bed, the soft glow from the glowfish lamp casting a warm light on his tear-stained face. She sits beside him, her hand gently rubbing his back in comforting circles. "You didn't do anything wrong, sweetie," she whispers. "Daddy just has a hard time with his feelings." Chip's eyes are glued to the floor, his chest heaving with quiet sobs. "But why?" he asks, his voice cracking. Karen takes a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Sometimes, when people are upset or scared, they don't know how to show it," she says gently. "Daddy's just trying to deal with his own stuff, and it can be hard for him to talk about." Chip nods, his eyes still on the floor. "But why does he have to get so mad?" he asks, his voice trembling. "It's not that he's mad at you," she says softly. "It's just that he doesn't know how to express himself without getting upset." "But why?" Chip asks, his voice muffled by the pillow he's buried his face in. Karen takes a deep breath, her eyes misting over. "Daddy's brain works differently, Chip," she says, her voice cracking. "Sometimes, when we're sad or scared, we get mad instead." Chip lifts his head, his eyes red and wet. "But why doesn't he just tell me he loves me?" he asks, his voice a broken whisper. Karen sighs, sad but understanding. "Some people show love in different ways," she says. "Daddy might not say it out loud, but he does it every day. Like when he takes you on adventures or when he makes you laugh." "But why can't he just say it?" he asks. Karen's throat tightens. "Sometimes, it's hard for Daddy to say the words," she explains gently. "But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel it." Chip sniffles, his eyes never leaving hers. "But why can't he just tell me?" Karen sighs, her hand still rubbing soothing circles on his back. "It's complicated," she says. "Daddy's brain is like a treasure chest with lots of locks. Some days, the right words just can't find the key." Chip looks at her, his eyes searching for a simple truth amidst the complexity. "But I want him to feel happy with me," he murmurs. Karen nods, her voice soft. "And he is, sweetie," she says. "Just in his own way." They sit in silence for a moment. Then Karen stands, her movements slow and deliberate. "Let's leave Daddy alone for now," she suggests. "He needs some space to sort through his feelings." Chip nods, his eyes still glistening with unshed tears. Together, they leave the room, closing the door softly behind them. As they walk down the corridor, Karen's thoughts are a tumult of emotions. She's angry at Plankton for his outburst, but she also understands his pain. He's been dealing with his condition alone for so long, and now he's forced to confront it with their son's innocent curiosity. They enter the living room, and she can see Plankton sitting on the couch, his antennae drooping. He looks up as they come in, his expression a mix of guilt and defiance. Karen takes a deep breath, trying to keep her own emotions in check. "Why don't we watch a movie?" she suggests, her voice gentle. "Something to help us relax?" Chip nods, still sniffling, and Plankton's antennae perk up slightly. It's a small victory, but it's something. They settle on the couch, Chip curled up in the middle with a blanket. Karen chooses a movie they've watched together before, a silent gesture of comfort and familiarity. Plankton's eye is on the screen, but his antennae are still twitching with leftover anger.

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.

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 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."

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.

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.

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.

😘😘💚🐾

Tobey Dec 1, 2022 @ 3:32am ✦ℳ𝒆𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓱𝓻𝓲𝓼𝓽𝓶𝓪𝓼 & 𝓐 𝓗𝓪𝓹𝓹𝔂 𝓝𝓮𝔀 𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻✦ …………….) ………..((…(( …………)))..))) ……….(((…((( ❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖ ❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖ ❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖……..❖ ❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖……..❖ ❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖ …❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖❖.. ……❖❖❖❖❖❖❖…..

~ 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.

SHELF IMPROVEMENT xi (Autistic author) Karen stood up. She needed to check on Chip, to make sure he was okay after the scary scene he had witnessed. She stepped out of the room, leaving the door cracked open, listening for any sign of movement from Plankton. The house was quiet, the only sound being the distant thump of Chip's footsteps. She walked down the hallway, each step heavier than the last. When she reached Chip's room, she found him sitting on his bed, his screen blurry with unshed tears. He looked up as she entered, his eyes wide with worry. "Mom," he said, his voice small. Karen's heart broke anew. She crossed the room and sat beside him, wrapping her arms around his small frame. "Chip," she whispered, "it's okay." Chip leaned into her embrace, his body shaking with sobs. "But Dad...," he choked out. "Dad was so mad at me." Karen's heart was heavy. She stroking his back. "He's not mad at you, Chip," she said, her voice gentle. "His brain is just... different now. He's scared and overwhelmed." Chip sniffled, his shoulders heaving. "But why?" "Because of his autism," Karen explained, her voice soft and steady. "It's like he's experiencing the world with all his senses turned up to max. Sometimes it's too much, and it can make him upset." Chip's sobs grew quieter as he absorbed her words. "But I didn't mean to," he murmured, his voice filled with regret. "I know, buddy," Karen said, her voice soothing. "And Dad knows you didn't mean to. We all just need to learn how to be more careful with each other." Chip nodded against her shoulder, his body slowly relaxing into her embrace. "I don't want him to be sad," he whispered. Karen kissed his forehead. "I know, Chip. And we'll make sure he isn't. We'll all learn together." They sat in silence for a few more moments, until Chip's sniffles subsided. "Would you like to go see him?" Karen asked, her voice tentative. Chip nodded, his screen wiping away tears. "But I don't want to make Dad mad again," he whispered. "You won't," Karen promised, her voice filled with warmth. "We'll go in together, and I'll be right here with you." They walked back to Plankton's room, their steps measured. Karen pushed the door open carefully, her gaze flicking to the bed. Plankton was still asleep, his snores now a comforting lullaby in the quiet space. Chip's eyes were glued to his dad, his antennae quivering slightly. "Dad?" he whispered. Karen nodded, swiping at her own tears. "Let's just watch him for a moment," she said, guiding Chip to the chair beside the bed. They sat down together, their hands joined. Plankton's antennae twitched slightly in his sleep, and Karen held her breath, fearing he might wake up. But he remained still, his tiny frame nestled under the blanket. "Look, Chip," she whispered, pointing to Plankton's peaceful face. "Dad's sleeping. Let's not wake him up yet." Chip nodded, his gaze never leaving his father. "But I want to tell him I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "You can tell him later," Karen assured, squeezing his hand. "Let's let him rest for now." Chip nodded, his eyes never leaving Plankton's sleeping form. "Okay," he murmured, his voice thick with unshed tears. "But I'll make it up to him. I've a science fair at school tonight and would like you both to come. I know he enjoys science." Karen's heart swelled with pride and hope. "That's a wonderful idea, Chip," she said, smiling through her tears. "I'm sure your father would love to see your project." They sat in companionable silence for a few moments more before Karen stood up. "Go get ready," she said, gently tugging on Chip's arm. "We have a science fair to attend." Chip's eyes lit up with excitement. "Really?" "Yes," Karen nodded, standing up. "We'll all go together and support you." Chip perked up, and he scurried out of the room, eager to get ready for the science fair. Karen watched him go, his enthusiasm a tiny beacon of light in the heavy silence that lingered. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the task ahead.

SHELF IMPROVEMENT xv (Autistic author) Karen's heart breaks a little more with each word. "Chip, please," she says, her voice shaking. "Your dad doesn't mean to be..." But Chip's anger has taken over. "Dad you just touched me! So I think at this point, you don't get to tell me what to do!" he yells, his voice a mix of pain and anger as he once again pokes Plankton. This time, Plankton's response is explosive. He jumps off the bed, his antennae flaring with fury. "DO. NOT. TOUCH. ME!" he roars, his voice booming in the confines of the room. The power behind his words sends a shiver down Karen's spine. "Chip, stop it," Karen says, her voice firm. "Your dad's autism makes him sensitive to touch right now. You know this." But Chip is beyond reason, his own pain fueling his actions. He pokes at Plankton again, his eyes filled with anger. Plankton's antennae quiver, his body tight as a spring. "Don't," he warns, his voice low and dangerous. But Chip doesn't listen. He reaches out once more, his finger poised like a dart. Karen can see the internal battle raging behind that one word, the need for his personal space and the fear of what could happen if it's violated. The moment Chip's finger makes contact with his arm, Plankton's unable to take much more. With a whimper that sounds like the sigh, he crumples back onto his bed as his eye rolls back in his head. His body convulses once, twice, and then stills as his eye closes. Karen's seen this before, but the sight of it never gets easier. She rushes to Plankton's side. "Daddy!" Chip's voice cracks, his anger dissolving into fear. "Mom!" Karen's eyes widen as she sees Plankton's body go limp. She quickly assesses his condition, seeing the signs of a meltdown turning into a full-blown shutdown. "Mom?" Chip's voice is shaky, his anger now replaced with fear. "What's happening?" Karen's heart is racing as she gently cradles Plankton's head. "It's okay," she soothes, her voice calm but filled with urgency. "He's just overwhelmed." Chip stands frozen, his hand still in midair. The reality of what his words have caused crashes over him like a wave, soaking him in guilt. "Dad?" he whispers, his voice tiny and scared. Karen's eyes meet Chip's, full of pain. "I'll take care of your father," she says, her voice steady despite the tears threatening to fall. "Why don't you go to your room?" She nods towards the door. Chip nods, his eyes never leaving Plankton's still form. He backs out of the room, the weight of his guilt following him like a shadow. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving Karen alone with Plankton. The silence is heavy, the air charged with the residue of their outburst. Karen pulls the blankets up to Plankton's chin. "You're okay," she whispers, her voice barely audible over his shallow breaths. She runs her hand over his forehead, soothing his antennae. Plankton's body shudders under her touch, his mind reeling from the sensory assault. "You're okay," Karen repeats, her voice a gentle lullaby in the storm of Plankton's thoughts. She continues to stroke his antennae, trying to ground him. Plankton's eyelid flickers, his mind slowly coming back to his surroundings. The weight of his exhaustion is like a heavy blanket, smothering him. "Chip," Karen says, her voice tight with worry. "Come back in. I need you to see this." Chip's eyes are red from crying, but he obeys, his gaze falling on his father's still form. "Look at him," Karen says, her voice thick with emotion. "This is what your words did." Chip's eyes fill with horror as he looks at his father's form. "Dad," he whispers, his hand reaching out tentatively. But Plankton doesn't react, his mind shut down. Karen's eyes are filled with despair, watching her husband, her partner, her best friend, trapped in his own overwhelmed world. "Oh, Plankton," she whispers, her voice shaking with concern. Chip's hand hangs in the air, his heart racing. He doesn't know what to do. "He's in a shutdown," Karen explains, her voice calm but strained. "It's like his brain has turned off to protect itself." Chip's hand drops to his side, his eyes never leaving his father's motionless body. "But why?" he asks, his voice small and scared. Karen sighs, exhaustion etching lines into her face. "It's his autism, Chip. It's like his brain's way of saying 'I can't handle any more'." She swipes at her own tears, trying to keep her voice steady. "When the stimulation gets to be too much, his body just...shuts down." Chip looks at his dad, his heart heavy with regret. "But I didn't know it would be this bad," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just wanted to be heard." Karen nods, her eyes never leaving Plankton's. "I know, sweetheart," she says. "But you see, your dad's brain works differently than yours or mine." She takes a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. "When there's too much noise, or too many people, or even just too much expectation," she pauses, her hand still stroking his antennae, "it can be like someone's turned the volume up too high, and everything just becomes too much." Chip sighs. "But why did we have to leave?" he asks, his voice small and lost. Karen looks at Plankton, his body still shaky from his meltdown. "The science fair was too much for Daddy," she says gently. "You know how I said he overwhelms easy?" Chip nods, his eyes glued to the floor. "At the science fair, Daddy had a kind of seizure," Karen explains, trying to keep her voice steady. "It's like his brain got too full of information and it couldn't process it all. To many people were talking all at once." She pauses, swallowing the lump in her throat. "It's not that he didn't want to be there for you, Chip. It's that his body simply couldn't handle it." Chip's eyes widen with understanding. "But he looked normal," he says, his voice tinged with doubt. "He didn't..." Karen sighs, taking Chip's hand. "It's not like a normal seizure," she explains. "It's called an absence seizure. He's semiconscious but his mind kind of... leaves him for a moment." Chip nods slowly, his eyes focused on Plankton's face. "But why was he so mad at me?" Karen looks at her son, her heart aching for both of them. "It was just his brain's way of dealing with the overload. And when you kept poking him and blaming him," she sighs, her eyes filling with tears, "it just added to his stress. He's just... overwhelmed." Chip stares at the floor, his eyes wide with guilt. "I didn't mean to," he whispers. "I just wanted you to be proud of me." Karen's heart aches for her son. She knows his intentions were pure, but the impact of his words was like a bomb exploding in Plankton's mind. "I know, Chip," she says gently. "But sometimes, we have to think about how our words affect others, especially when someone's going through something as hard as your dad. Now it's getting late; we could all use some rest." Chip nods, his throat tight with unshed tears. He kisses Plankton's forehead, his heart heavy with regret. "I'm sorry, Dad," he whispers, his voice cracking. "I'll do better." Karen watches as her son backs out of the room, the weight of the evening's events weighing heavily on his small shoulders. She wishes she could take away his pain, his guilt. Turning back to Plankton, she gets in his line of sight and speaks softly. "Plankton, honey, are you awake..." His single eye opens slightly, a tiny slit in his otherwise still form. "Yes," he whispers, his voice hoarse with fatigue. Karen's heart clenches with relief. "How are you feeling?" she asks, her voice gentle. Plankton's eye flickers, his antennae barely moving. "Tired," he whispers. Karen nods, understanding. "I'll be right here," she promises, her voice a gentle caress.

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.

SHELF IMPROVEMENT x (Autistic author) Plankton's body finally stilled, his breathing evening out. The room was now quiet, the only sounds their combined exhales and the distant hum of the house. Karen could feel the weight of his fear slowly lifting, his body becoming less rigid under her touch. "Gentler," he murmured, his eye looking up at her. Karen's hand trembled slightly as she brushed his antennae, trying to give him comfort. "We're going to get through this," she promised, her voice firm. Plankton's antennae twitched in response, his gaze searching hers. "Together?" Karen nodded, a warm smile spreading across her screen. "Together, Plankton. We're a family." Plankton's antennae quivered with relief, his body slumping into the pillows. "Together," he echoed, his voice weak but steady. Karen felt a weight lift. "Yes, together," she said. They sat in silence for a moment, the tension in the room slowly dissipating. Plankton's antennae twitched, and he reached out to grasp her hand, and Karen squeezed back. "Karen," he murmured, his voice still weak from his meltdown. "Thank you." Karen's eyes watered as she squeezed his hand back. "Always," she whispered. The room was still, the only sounds the soft sighs of relief from both of them. Plankton's antennae slowly relaxed, his grip on her hand loosening. "Tired," he murmured, his eye half-closed. Karen nodded, wiping her own tears away. "Why don't we get some rest?" she suggested, her voice still a whisper. She helped him lay down properly, adjusting his pillows and covering him with the blanket. Plankton's antennae nodded slightly. "Rest," he murmured, his voice fading. Karen sat beside him, her hand still in his, watching his chest rise and fall with each breath. She felt his grip tighten briefly, a silent plea for her not to leave. As the minutes ticked by, the tension in the room began to unravel. The steady rhythm of his breaths grew deeper, his body relaxing into the embrace of the soft mattress. Plankton's antennae twitched one last time before going still, and Karen heard the telltale rumble of his snores. They were faint, almost imperceptible. It was the sound of his body letting go of the fear and anger, surrendering to sleep. With a sigh of relief, she gently released his hand, placing it by his side. Her heart ached as she took in the sight of him, so small and vulnerable. This was their new normal, and she had to be strong for both of them.

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

A TOOTHY STORY pt. 5 Karen watches him drift back into sleep, her heart swelling with love. His snores have turned into gentle snuffles, his antennae still occasionally twitching in his sleep. The nurse, Nina, smiles at her. "It's okay, he's just tired," she says. "Let's get him standing." They help Plankton into a sitting position, his body uncooperative and limp. His eye open and close, trying to stay awake. "Pway?" he mumbles again, his voice a sleepy whisper. Karen laughs, her eyes sparkling with affection. "Later, sweetheart, after you're all better." Nina, the nurse, nods. "Let's get you on your feet," she says, offering her fin for support. Plankton wobbles, his legs like jello. Karen takes his other arm, steadying him. "One step at a time," she says, her voice a gentle guide. They shuffle to the door, his feet moving as if through water. His head lolls, his antennae drooping with exhaustion as he falls asleep, but Karen and Nina quickly react, holding him upright. "It's normal for the anesthesia to make him so tired." Nina says over Plankton's snores as he's snoring deeply. Karen nods, her grip firm on his arm. "Let's get you to the car," she says. "Wake up, Plankton. Just a little more." With a snort, Plankton's eye opens again, blinking sleepily. "Wha...?" he says, looking around the room. Karen's smile is like the sun breaking through the clouds. "It's time to go home, sweetie," she says. They make their way to the car, Plankton leaning heavily on Karen's arm. The nurse, Nina, gives them both a nod of encouragement. "Call us if you need anything," she says. The sun is blinding as they walk out of the clinic, its rays piercing through the clouds like a spotlight. Plankton squints, his eye watering. "Hone," he mumbles, his voice a sleepy sigh. Karen laughs, her arm around his waist. "Home, Plankton," she says, her voice like a lullaby. "We're going home now." They reach the car, his legs wobbly as a newborn's. Karen opens the door, guiding him in. Plankton fumbles with the seatbelt, his fingers refusing to cooperate. "Let me," she says, her touch gentle as she secures him in. The drive home is quiet, his snores punctuating the hum of the engine. Karen watches him, his mouth slack, the gauze still in place. "Almost there, Plankton," she says, her voice soothing. The car's smooth movement lulls him further into sleep. Karen sighs, her eyes on the road ahead, her mind racing with thoughts of care and comfort for her recovering husband. When they arrive home, she gently wakes him, his eye fluttering open. "Who...?" he mumbles, his voice a slurry whisper. "It's me, Karen," she says, smiling. "We're home, Plankton." He blinks, his mind still foggy. "Hone?" he repeats, his voice barely audible. Karen nods. "Yes, sweetheart, we're home." They enter their home, the familiar scent of home wrapping around them like a warm embrace. Plankton stumbles, his legs like jelly under him. "Bath-tub," he mumbles, pointing in the direction of their bedroom. Karen laughs, her heart swelling with love for her confused husband. "No, Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle reminder. "Let's get you to the couch." They shuffle through the house, his eye half-closed, his words slurred. "Muff-muff...tub?" he repeats, his thoughts jumbled. Karen laughs, her voice like a warm current in the cool ocean. "No, Plankton, the couch," she says, guiding his unsteady steps. He nods, his antennae drooping. "C-c-couch," he repeats, his words like bubbles rising to the surface. Karen helps him settle, his body collapsing into the plush cushions with a sigh. His snores resume, his mouth open, and drool pooling on the pillow. Plankton's eyes flicker open, his gaze unfocused. "Tish...?" he mumbles, reaching up to touch his mouth. Karen laughs, taking his hand. "No, Plankton," she says, her voice a gentle stream. "Let's keep those hands down." He frowns, his mind a fog. "Whath...whathapened?" he asks, his speech still slurred. Karen smiles, her voice a warm caress. "You had your wisdom teeth taken out, sweetheart." Plankton's eye widens. "B-but...muh...muh..." his words a jumble. Karen giggles with warmth. "What are you trying to say, Plankton?" she asks, her voice sweet as a lullaby. He tries to sit up, his body still groggy. "Baf...baf... baf," he babbles. Karen's laughter is a gentle wave, lapping at the shores of his confusion. "It's okay," she says, her hand a steady rock. "Your mouth is just numb." Plankton's antennae wave weakly, his eye still unfocused. "Mumf?" he mumbles, his voice like a baby's coo. "Mumf?" Karen laughs softly, her heart filled with love and amusement. "What's 'mumf', Plankton?" she asks, her voice a gentle ripple in the sea of his confusion. He blinks, his mouth moving in a silent attempt to form words. "Mumf," he repeats, his voice a sleepy murmur. "Muff...muf..." his words trailing off. Karen laughs, her voice a soothing whisper. "What's 'mumf', sweetheart?" she asks, her eyes twinkling with mirth. Plankton blinks, his antennae twitching. "Nun," he slurs, his mind swimming in a sea of anesthesia. "Why my moufs nun." Karen laughs, her eyes sparkling. "Your mouth is numb, Plankton," she explains, her voice a gentle wave. "It'll wear off by the morning." He nods, his antennae drooping. "Mouf numb," he echoes, his tongue still thick. "Mm...numb." He giggles to himself. "Numb." Karen laughs, her voice like the tinkling of a bell. "Yes, Plankton, your mouth is numb," she says, her words a gentle soothing rain. "It's from the surgery." Plankton's antennae perk up, his eye finally focusing. "Sur...surg... surgery?" he asks, his voice a tentative question. Karen nods, wiping at his drool with a tissue. "It's okay, you're all done now." He giggles, his words a slur. "Sur...surgery," he repeats, his mind still in a haze. Karen smiles, her voice a gentle lullaby. "Wisdom teeth," she says, "They're out, and you're all better." Plankton nods, his antennae twitching with curiosity. "Tweef?" he mumbles, his tongue thick. Karen nods, her voice like a gentle wave. "Yes, sweetie," she says, "The doctor took your big teef out." He giggles again, his mind still foggy. "Big...big teef," he says, his voice a babyish coo. "Tweef." Karen laughs, her voice a soothing breeze. "Yes, Plankton, your big teeth are gone." "How many fing-- fingers awe you holding up?" He asks, but looking at his own hand. Karen laughs, her voice a delightful chime in the quiet room. "I'm not holding up any fingers, Plankton." Plankton's antennae twitch, his eye still unfocused. "But...but..." his words trail off as he tries to process her response. "That's your hand, not mine!" She laughs. Plankton giggles, his eye half-closed. "M-mine?" he asks, his voice a sleepy mumble. Karen nods, her smile never leaving her face. "Yes, love, your hand." He looks down at his hand, his fingers splayed. "Twee," he murmurs, his voice a slurred whisper. "Two big teef gone." Karen laughs, her voice gentle as she shakes her head. "All four wisdom teethies." Plankton blinks, his mind clearing slightly. "Oh," he says, his voice a soft wave. "Twee big teefies." Karen nods, her eyes sparkling with humor. "Yes, Plankton, all your wisdom teeth are out." He giggles, his speech still slurred. "Widom...teefies," he mumbles. "Widom." Karen laughs, her heart warm with love. "That's right," she says, her voice a gentle current. "Wisdom teethies." Plankton's antennae droop again, his eye heavy with sleep. "M-more?" he asks, his voice like a sleepy drone. Karen smiles, her voice a soothing melody. "No more, sweetie," she says, stroking his antennas. "You're all done."