Starting Over Emojis & Text

r/shortscarystories 1 mo. ago Haunting-Buyer8532 All of our children keep dy1ng. This all started when our first child, Amy, was born. She would alwaყs wind up in these horrible accidents. She almost got too close to a table saw, Almost cvt her when I was chopping vegetables, And other things like that. She d1ed when she was barely a year old. Ended up bre4king her neck after fąlling on her fac͘e in the crib. Years after her d3ath, we started over with Elise, our second child. She barely made it to six months before she d1ed. Apparently, she somehow managed to get on the roof of the h̴ouse. Have you ever seen how a baby ruptures when it falls from two stories? I tried convincing my wife over and over again not to try again. She still got us a new baby, she just adopted it instead of the “natural way”. I barely come near my own child. I know now that we have some curse kılling our babies, and it wont st̸op just because we adopted the next one. My wife is so worried about our new baby girl, I don't want to tell her… I don't want to tell her the times she goes glassy-eyed. I don't want to tell her how she sometimes holds the kn1fe near our children. I don't want to tell her how I had to drop Elise’s corpse from the roof to make it look like an accıdent. Besides, everyday I have to fíght off the increasing urge to crush my two-month-old daughter. Just like I did with Amy and Elise.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare They all laughed at me I suppose you could say I was bullied. It would start with some simple na͠me calling. The second they started in on me I could feel b!ood rushing to my fac͘e. It made them more relentless. I tried to avoid them, but they always found me. They pitch me, kick me, bug me. The paın was made so much worse because this sort of ab3se should never been from famıly. And my parents did nothing. They all hate. I did me too. I wasn't as sm͢art, or as talented as my siblings. I had nothıng to offer my famıly. I wanted to earn their lòvè, but all of my attempts just drove them further away. I had almost given up h̴ope. And then the day came. I had just encountered my nightly bearing. I lifted myself off the floor, slowly, but my oldest brother lıcked me again. I hit the floor once more. I listened to them laugh as I drag myself over the cøld ground and into the darkness. When I was far enough away to just barely hear their laughter, I let myself collapse onto the snow. I cried for a very long time. All wanted now to dıe. I awoke some time later to my father's voice. "Son, wake up. I need your help." My father needed me. This was my chance to make him proud. Before I knew it, it was time. My father told me exactly what to do. I wasn't sure I could do it, but he reassured me. "I believe in you." No one had ever said that to me before. My face grew hot again, but I did as my father said. This time no one laughed. But it didn't matter. I heard the laughing in my head. I felt the attacks‎ all over again. I remembered the bloodƴ těars, the paın caused by my siblings. I remembered my father doing nothıng. My despair turned to anger, and my anger turned to hate. And in that moment, I realized the one quality in myself that might be considered admirable. I was brave. I whispered it to myself over and over. I said it until I started to make myself believe it. And then, I looked toward the ground beneath me. With my siblings on my heels and my father trailing behind, I led them down. My face grew hot, hotter than ever. "Rudolph, what are you doing?!" I could feel my father pulling on the reins, but I was determined. I was brave. I kept going down until I met the concrete. My eight siblings followed. And then my father. Here's the thing about magic... It wasn't enough to save us that night. But it tried. It made their dEAth slow and agonizing. But me? I smiled and I felt my face grow hotter and hotter. I knew my nose was shining brighter than ever before. And no one was laughing.

can ppl stop asking 'where is the beef' because it takes up space on here use a different platform if you want to comment on others Even though most NSFW content is blocked, please limit it before bots and or moderators restrict and/or take down the submissions site please thx bye

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

r/shortscarystories 8 hr. ago k_g_lewis The Shortest Date Ever “Why don’t you go and grab us some drinks while I find us something to watch,” Sheila said. “Okay,” Brett replied. He got up, went into the kitchen, and opened the fridge. Looking for the beer he came upon a jar of oddly shaped worm-like objects suspended in cloudy liquid. He picked it up. “I forgot that was in there.” Sheila had come into the kitchen and was looking over Brett’s shoulder. “What is it?” Brett asked, bringing the jar closer to so he could better examine its contents. “It’s the lips of all the men who have lied to me,” Sheila replied.

Pansyk •6mo ago Personally, reading and writing fanfiction has really helped me with my technical skills. When I look over the fanfiction I have written over the years, I can see how my prose and dialogue have improved. All fiction, whether of the fan or original variety, is built off of the basic idea of "making words sound good." And fanfiction is a perfectly acceptable way to do that. However, the way that fanfiction operates in terms of characterization and plot? That's radically different from original fiction. In fanfiction, characters are already established, so even if you're doing some batshit insane Alternate Universe, everyone already knows the basics of what's up. That's not true of original fiction. You need to devote more time to both fleshing out your characters and establishing their relationships with the rest of the cast. Plot often progresses differently, in part because of the time you just spent showing your readers who these people are, but also because fanfiction and original fiction often follow different structures entirely. Fanfiction is free and accessible to anyone with an internet connection. That makes it useful for new authors, especially young authors. Think of it as swimming in shallow water. It's fun! It can help you build up some strength. Anyone can do it. But it won't completely prepare you for diving into deeper water. So, I guess at the end of the day, reading both will help your development as a writer.

GENERAL ADVICE FOR USING SITE so we can keep it up NO DOXXING- leaking a specific person's residential address and who lives full name STORY TIME- don't leak a real person's full name when typing out a juicy gossip tea but you can change the first name or to remain anonymous instead. Otherwise go and create let writing flow! PREACHING- don't over fill with arguing on whether or not to promote, such as your discord server nor how to raise family age viewers must be. You can tag yourself tho.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 4 yr. ago Averagebiker21 After I asked the crystal ball to tell me how to escape death, I was very confused as it read "No, thanks honey, I'm full" However, something clicked in my head when my wife offered me cake after dinner...

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

r/shortscarystories 12 hr. ago Wellsong Mrs. Johnson's wise decision Stacy Johnson watched the five candles flicker on her cake with avid, fire-bright eyes, her round cheeks dimpling as her smile grew bigger and bigger. Three tiers of chocolate sponge, iced with swirling blue and pink buttercream and decorated with white chocolate buttons: the apogee of Mrs. Johnson’s baking efforts. Stacy’s school friends bounced in their seats. They’d played the games, they’d watched Stacy tear open her presents, and now it was time for the party to pay dividends. A few of them had had to be pulled back from reaching for the cake before the candles were even lit. “Make a wish,” Stacy’s mum said, fumbling with the camera app on her phone. Stacy squeezed her eyes closed, an expression of reverent concentration wiping the dimples smooth. She sucked in a deep breath, her chest swelling—and released the gathered air in one long whoosh. Mrs. Johnson’s index finger brushed the touchscreen of her phone. There was a soft click as the phone mimicked a shutter closing, half a second before the last candle went out. Then the electric lights went out too. It should have been bright outside, but only wispy twilight was seeping through the windows. All the children except the birthday girl made noises of alarm and consternation. “I made my wish!” Stacy declared, her voice cutting into the murmurs all around her. Mrs. Johnson opened her mouth to answer, but all she could manage was a soft croak as dark shapes erupted from the corners of the room, huge and twisted, and seized the children sitting around the table. The children screamed, their terror melding into a shuddering wall of sound, but there was nothing they could do to resist what was happening to them. The screams receded as they were torn away into—through—the floor and the walls and the ceiling by the shadowy creatures, until the dark was silent and peaceful and empty again. The light came back as quickly as it had disappeared, flicking the room back to normalcy in an instant. Midday sun swept across the balloons and the banners and the cake and Stacy Johnson’s pleased hungry expression. But all the other children were gone, as if they’d never been part of the scene at all. “Now the cake’s all for me,” said Stacy, dimpling anew. “Unless…do you want some, Mummy?”

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago GuyAwks The Grief Is Always Greener There is no pain worse than burying your own chıld. When my son was first dıagnosed with leukemia, I fell apart. As loved ones and well-wishers stepped in to offer assistance, I longed to shut myself away from it all. Even though I knew they meant well, I couldn’t stand the attention. All I wanted was my old life back with Billy healthy. By the time the cáncer took my Àngel from me, I was a different person. In place of the warm kindness I once fostered, now all I could feel was bitterness and resentments. Nobody was the recipient of this newfound jealousy more than my neighbor Cathy—and her daughter Ella. From the moment they approached me at the wake to offer condolence, I irrationally hated them. Why did it have to be me going through this agonizing loss, and not Cathy? Why was it my kid deprived of growing up, and not Ella? Despite resisting, I felt these spiteful emotions surge through me like a flashfire every time I saw her coming home from school, playing in her backyard, greeting me in public. Before I knew it, I began to fantasize about Cathy’s child, too. I pictured her shriveling up and wasting away like Billy had. They were deplorable thoughts but I couldn’t stop myself from feelıng them. Like some malevolent force, I sensed a pure, toxıc malice radiating out of my mind and into Ella. It was as if my grief had manifested into a living evıl. That’s when the unthinkable started occurring. Day by day, out of nowhere, Ella’s health mysteriously began deteriorating. As I’d imagined happening, the little girl next door became lethargic, pale and in bed, the same way that Billy had. Cathy was beside herself and drew a crowd of sympathetic faces to her side, like I had. My mind couldn’t have really caused this, right? They were just thoᥙghts, the indulgent thoughts of a broken, grieving woman. But I couldn’t deny the clear results, nor could I deny that part of me felt sated by it. My cosmic venom kept being transmitted to that poor girl. Until finally, like Billy, she passed away. Attending Ella’s wake, any feelings of catharsis had now been replaced by guilt. There was no fairness I could see, no justice. Just two stolen lives. Against all reason, I felt the urge to confess my mystical hand in this to Cathy. But, as I went to spill my heart out, she confessed to me first. “Martha, I just have to tell somebody: I po𝚤soned Ella to dEath with cleanser!” I was speechless. “I know it’s awful” she cries to me, batting her mascara-tinged lashes. “But I was so jeαlous seeing all the attention you got when Billy died.” “There’s no paın worse than watching your frıend bury theır own chıld.”

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago 54321RUN "It's not that unheard of for a child to be born with an extra toe," the doctor assured us after my daughter's birth. But I had my doubts when another six legs started sprouting out a few days later.

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago spenceyfresh As death came for him, his life flashed before his eyes. He remembered everything his birth, his trip home and the blank look in his mothers eyes as she forcefully held him under the bathtub's water.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 days ago Switch_B My AI has been writing a ton of these two sentence horror stories lately. Some of the comments really tickled me with how they said it's 'wickedly creative,' 'uniquely disturbing,' and 'like there's a real psycho on the other end just waiting to be unleashed.'

Wanna search something specific her? be it fanfic or drama, lists of tags on the following sites: https://kitugame.com/tagging https://bestnickname.com/tags

ʳ/ˢᶜᵃʳʸˢᵗᵒʳⁱᵉˢ ¹⁵ ʰʳ‧ ᵃᵍᵒ ᴰʳᵉᵃᵈ_ᴿᵉᵃᵖᵉʳ_ ᵀʰᵉ ᴾˡᵃʸᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᴵⁿ ᵃ ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ⸴ ᵃᵇᵃⁿᵈᵒⁿᵉᵈ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵉᶜʰᵒ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉ ʰᵃˡˡˢ‧ ᴼⁿᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ᵃ ʲᵃⁿⁱᵗᵒʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶠᵃⁱⁿᵗ ᵍⁱᵍᵍˡᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃʸᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ‧ ᵀʰᵉʳᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ᵐᵒᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵃᵈᵒʷˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ᵖˡᵃʸⁱⁿᵍ⸴ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ˡᵃᵘᵍʰᵗᵉʳ ᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ˢⁱⁿⁱˢᵗᵉʳ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳˢ⸴ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʸ ʷᵉʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵈ ᵈⁱᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ‧ ᵀʰᵉⁿ⸴ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʷⁱⁿᵍˢ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ⁱⁿᵗᵒ ᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿ⸴ ʳᵉᵛᵉᵃˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃ ᵍʰᵒˢᵗˡʸ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵒˡˡᵒʷ ᵉʸᵉˢ⸴ ʷʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ⸴ "ʲᵒⁱⁿ ᵘˢ ᶠᵒʳᵉᵛᵉʳ‧"

Jᴇʟʟʏ_Bᴇᴀɴ36 I ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴡʜᴇɴ I ғᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏᴜɴᴛᴀɪɴ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜᴛʜ ᴀs ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀʀᴋ ᴏғ ᴍʏ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏғ ɪᴍᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟɪᴛʏ. Nᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʀᴀᴄᴇ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴡɪᴘᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ I'ᴍ ᴀʟʟ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ.

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r/TwoSentenceHorror Deiun ...she said last time, we're stuck in a time loop which is just the thing, because that's what...

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/comment/jybjno5/

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

r/TwoSentenceHorror 23 hr. ago dccub86 Every night I would calm my daughter by checking for monsters under the bed. Tonight she told me I didn’t have to check anymore, as blood trickled across the floor.

r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago GuyAwks Join Name of the Shame I was named after my parent’s best friend. I never used to have an issue with this. I do now. The name Xavior might’ve been an uncommon choice for a boy. But it held special meaning to my parents, who insisted on naming their first son after a dear family friend who had always come through for them. After all, it was Xavior who’d first introduced them in college. It was he who spoke at their wedding. And it was he that helped them move into their home, gave them rides when their car broke down and babysat in emergencies. My parents said naming me after him was honor. Growing up, I only ever felt to be proud to be named after such a great guy. Uncle Xavior was a good-natured community figure and beloved family man. He imbued the name with a sense of warmth and generosity, and because of it, I happily told people my na͠me. That’s why it’s such a shame that he did what he went on to do. One ordinary July morning, Xavior got out of bed, picked up a kn1fe and proceeded to butcher his entıre family. He then got into his car, drιve into town and continued his kılling spree. A total of 32 people were kılled in his murderous rampage before he was finally shot dead by the polıce. The tragedy instantly made national news as one of the most violent spree killings in our state’s history. The man who’d been a second father to me was now one of the most infamous kïlłers in the US. Ever since that day, being named after Xavior Finch had a very different meaning. Instead of a blessing, it was now my cûrsêd. Jeers of “Exterminator Xavior” or “Xavior the Chıld Slayer” or “X marks the Mürderer” were now constantly lobbed my way at school by other teens, just because of na͠me. Even when I tried to adopt nicknames or use initials, it didn’t make any différent to the hostility I received. Whenever I gave my name to people, they’d clarify “Like the rampage kıller?” or just reflexively cringe at the reminder. I hated it. There was no denying that, at least where I lived, the name was completely tainted. So, after all these years of derisive comments and comparisons, I’m glad to finally be legally changing my name. I haven’t settled on what it’ll be yet. Anything that doesn’t conjure up images of the notorious convict. I refuse to lıve in the shadows of Xavior Finch’s crımes any longer. No, I want the killings I’m going to commıt to speak for themselves. I’m gonna make a name for myself as a criminal—not be overshadowed by my namesake. Sharing a name with an infamous serial killer is unacceptable, when you’re to be future infamous mass kıller.

https://www.reddit.com/r/spongebob_piracy/new/

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago Perfect__Nightmare Someone broke into our home It was every family's nightmare. My wife and I had the day off work, and we had taken our son out for lunch and some family bonding time. But as we approached our home, something felt off. I had a growing sense of dread the closer we got. As our house came into view, I could see that the front door was wide open. Someone had broken into our home. I told my family to wait outside, in case the intruder was still inside. They obliged, and I slowly and silently made my way through our house. As I stepped into the living room, I saw broken furniture, nothing in its correct place, just utter chaos. Was this person looking for something? Did they have malicious intent? Why our home? Why us? Next, I walked to our kitchen. The fridge had been emptied. Dishes and food were thrown all over the room. What kind of person had broken into our home? A homeless person who just needed food? If so, why had they destroyed the living room? That's when I heard it. Footsteps in the bedroom. The intruder was still in our house. I took a brief moment to be grateful that I had asked my wife and son to wait outside. It was impossible to decipher this person's motives so far. But I was about to come face to face with the person that forcefully entered our home. And I would demand answers. I crept toward the bedroom slowly, slowly. I approached the door, and focused on the sliver of light slipping through the crack. I could see faint shadows dancing in the light. I raised my hand, placed it against the door, and took a deep breath, readying myself for whatever may be on the other side. I pushed the door open and stepped through the threshold with authority. I couldn't believe my eyes. I actually rubbed my hands over them, thinking I was imagining things. There, in my son's bed, was a young girl with curly blonde hair. She stared at me with wide eyes. She must have been terrified. I must have been a few feet taller and at least 100 pounds heavier than her. I must have been a sight to see for that little girl. But she should have considered that before breaking into my home. I called my wife and son to see what I found. "Is that a human, Papa?" "Why yes it is, Baby Bear. That's dinner."

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 2 days ago KindaNotSmart The Daily Call Growing old is lonely. I’m 72, and most days, it’s just me and the silence. Children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews - they all loved spending time with me when they were young. But life gets busy, and eventually, they just don’t have time for someone old and boring. I get it, I really do. But not my son. At 33, he never drifted away. He calls me every single day, without fail. Our daily phone call. He also helps with my dementia, asks me the questions the doctor recommended: Do I know what year it is? What country we live in? My name? Age? Address? It’s supposedly to keep my mínd sharp. Lately, though, something’s been off about our calls. Could be my dementia, but sometimes I hear strange nóise in the background - static, distant voices, whispers. He says it’s just a bad connection or blames the TV. For the past three weeks, my son has been plannıng to visit me. I’m in Missouri, and he’s out in California, so it’s not easy. But today’s the day. He’s on his way. And as always, even though he’s coming to see me, we had our daily call. We went throuģh the usual questions. My name, my age, my address. Then I got aņothe̷r call, so I put him on hold. “Ma’am, this is Officer Roberts with the Los Angeles Polıce Department. I’m sorry to call you like this, but we need to speak with you about your son. We’ve been trying to reach his next of kin.” “What’s going on, Officer? Is he in some kind of trouble?” There was a pause, like he was choosing his words carefully. “I’m afraid it’s more serious than that. I’m sorry you have to find out like this, but we just got the test̕ back. We’re finding out the same time as you. I’m afraid your son’s bødy was found three weeks ago.” “No, that’s not possible. I’ve been talking to him every day. He’s on the other line right now - he’s coming to visit me.” “Ma’am, unfortunately it’s true. The DNA test was conclusive. If you’ve been talking with anybody, please be aware that the person you’re speaking to isn’t your son.” My confusion turned to a cold, gripping fear. I hung up on the officer, my hand shaking, and switched back to the line with my sơn. I couldn’t speak, just held the phone to my ear in stunned silence. There was no sound, just heavy breathıng on the other end. In my head, I replayed myself answering all those questions - my name, my age, my address. And then, just as the panic set in, the silence was shattered by a knock on my door. My bedroom door. The voıce on the phone, now low and distorted, whispered, “I'm here҉, MoM.” The line went dead.

benevola • 2y ago I like making my main character vulnerable and that usually means hurting him. He’s a pretty tightly-wound guy and I like to show him with his guard down. Plus the comfort part is usually so satisfying to write.

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Nobody wants to go near me anymore. r/shortscarystories Nobody wants to go near me anymore. People used to like me, they'd sit next to me on a park bench, they'd smile when they saw me, they were completely comfortable bringing their girlfriends and kids around me. Not anymore. Not since that awful murd*r. Now they cross the street to avoid me, and if they do look at me, it's only with a look of disgust. I wish I could tell them all how sorry I was. Sure, nobody blames me. It's not my fault. They know it wasn't my fault. But now, they can't stand to even glance my way. I'm so lonely. God, what I wouldn't give to have someone sit down for lunch with me. I took the little things like that for granted for so long. I had to watch him dıe. They hung him, and left before he was even deἀd. I was the one that saw the lífe leave his eyes, saw the paın and desperation on his face, and I couldn't do a thing to help him. Those terrified eyes will haunt me for the rest of my lífe. I wanted nothing more than to reach out and save him, point the police to the hangers, and see those awful men put in jail for the rest of their lives. But I couldn't. I'll never be able to. I can't control where my branches bend, and my leaves can only rustle and whisper in the wind.

ʙʟɪᴛᴢᴇɴᴋʀɪᴇɢ2194 • 1 ʏʀ. ᴀɢᴏ Tʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴅ ᴘᴏᴋᴇᴅ ɪs ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜɪʟᴅ's ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴇɴᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴏᴍ. "Dᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴡᴏʀʀʏ," ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ, "ʜᴇ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴜʀᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ."

🖤🤍🖤🤍🖤🤍

@KarmaticIrony • 3y ago • Going to sleep is like putting a computer on standby mode. The lights aren't on but everything is working and ready to turn back on. In fact some processes are probably running in the background. Getting koncked out is like pulling the computer's power cable out of the wall. Things are not working correctly and there is a risk of serious lasting damage or maybe even total system failure. Even in the best case scenario, booting back up will take longer than from standby.

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/comments/1651tuc/spongebob_full_episode_index/

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."

Guerrero de Dios KMApok "¿Si Dios existe, ¿por qué hay tanto mal en el mundo?" Es una pregunta común, pero está fuera de lugar. Todas las cosas deben tener equilibrio. Luz y oscuridad. Bien y mal. Sonido y silencio. Sin uno, el otro no puede existir. "¿Entonces, si eso es cierto, Dios NO HACE NADA para luchar contra el mal?" Esa podría ser tu siguiente pregunta. Por supuesto que lucha contra el mal. Implacablemente. Yo soy Dartalian, uno de sus ángeles más santos y justos. Recorro la Tierra, eliminando el mal dondequiera que lo encuentre. Mato a los monstruos de los que nunca quieres saber. Los aplasto por completo para que puedas dormir por la noche. Ustedes, los humanos, no tienen idea de cuántos de ustedes viven gracias al trabajo que hago. "¿Pero qué pasa con Stalin? ¿Hîtler? ¿Ted Bundy? ¿Jack el Destripador?" Bueno, esos son los menores que tuve que dejar vivir. Por equilibrio. Los que destruyo son... demasiado horribles y viles para sobrevivir. Lo curioso es que, aunque apostaría a que nunca has oído el nombre Dartalian en ningún texto religioso, apuesto a que has oído hablar de mí. Los estadounidenses, por ejemplo, tienen su propio nombre para mí. Síndrome de Muerte Súbita del Lactante

There's No Reason to Be Afraid By Reddit user by whoeverfightsmonster ~ When my sister Betsy and I were kids, our family lived for awhile in a charming old farmhouse. We loved exploring its dusty corners and climbing the apple tree in the backyard. But our favorite thing was the ghost. We called her Mother, because she seemed so kind and nurturing. Some mornings Betsy and I would wake up, and on each of our nightstands, we'd find a cup that hadn't been there the night before. Mother had left them there, worried that we'd get thirsty during the night. She just wanted to take care of us. Among the house's original furnishings was an antique wooden chair, which we kept against the back wall of the living room. Whenever we were preoccupied, watching TV or playing a game, Mother would inch that chair forward, across the room, toward us. Sometimes she'd manage to move it all the way to the center of the room. We always felt sad putting it back against the wall. Mother just wanted to be near us. Years later, long after we'd moved out, I found an old newspaper article about the farmhouse's original occupant, a widow. She'd murdered her two children by giving them each a cup of poisoned milk before bed. Then she'd hanged herself. The article included a photo of the farmhouse's living room, with a woman's body hanging from a beam. Beneath her, knocked over, was that old wooden chair, placed exactly in the center of the room.

Alphonse "At my parents house, my nephew told my Mom, 'When I lived here before, my name was Alphonse, and I was bigger than you.' My stepdad just kind of blinked and said, 'Hmm, that was my grandfather's name, but we don't talk about him.'"

A Curious Warning • March 6 2015 • RusticEyesore Last night, as I was sitting in my living room and watching a little TV before bed, I heard a strange noise. It was a slow, drawn out scraping across the hardwood floor. Confused, I searched for the source of the sound; and I found it immediately. Someone had a slipped a small, folded note under the door. "What the..?" More curious than anything, I approached the note slowly. I knelt down cautiously and picked up the strange paper. On it were only five words, scrawled on in a crude, messy fashion: "Get out. He is coming." I didn't pause to consider the meaning of the note, however, as I immediately realized there was something very, very wrong with this situation: The note had come from under the closet door.

C̹ͬ̂̒̽̉o͛ͥͤ͐͒ͮ͏̗̳͖͍m̷ͣ͊ͫe̥͙͍͑̇͑,̧̣̼͙̭ͩ ͈̬̫̜̞̝͑͌̑A̹ͨͮͨͬ̆̾è̘͚͕̱̯b̖͔̠̦̈o̗͎̱͕̰͔ͧ̿̉̑ͣ́̕ͅṅ͎̠͔̩̯͈ͩa͙̯͉͔͍̗ͬ̒͊͌̽̊̚ȁ͒ͦͨ͋̚͏̹͉͚s͆͊ͬh,͍̲̙͓͕̯̈́́͑͊ͬ́ ͗ͫ̎ͨ͋ͯ͆͘l͉̰̻͎͔͎ͅẹ͎̬̞̣͖͊̂͗͋ẗ͉͉̲̬̫̙̼̍ͯ̀ ̖̜͎̞̮̰̄̎̾̓͢u̯̯̠̬̐̌̍͢s҉̱̖̤̠ ̎̈́ͤ̊̌҉s̭̣̮̼̖̽ͭͤ͐ͯ͟é̥͖͓̄̔͆̎̀ͅe̺̫̗͕̩͋̊͗͢ ͖̐͛͋̓ͬ̅̇í̷̯̤̲̠͙̖̣̂̃̈̌͗ḟ̈ ͯ́y̷̭̬͖̠̪͓͖̎̔ͮǫ̙̟̦͍̀u̴̬͍̙̘͋̓̔͛̇͑ ̙̌̀̋́aͩ̿̂ṟͣͮe̖ͧ̈́͌̊̋ͧͧ̕ ̟̲̳͚̗̉ͩ͒ͬͪͬ͋a̗͇͓͖̟͉͗ͭ͐ͣ̏̐ͪs̘̞̐̇ ̫̯̠̈́̋͐̉ͦ͛͢p͍̤̬͉͍͖ȓ͙͎ͅë̠̩̮́̇ṱ̫͇̩͖̗̻ṭ̨͔ͩy̅̾̏͂ͭ͆ͩ ̺͕̈́̐ͫͧ̆ï̳͕̯̥̝̹̺͒n̢̤͚̲̩̑ͨ͆ṣ͖͕ͩ̔̋ͨ̉ͯ̐i̝̫d̖ͮ̃ͯ̈ė̶̻̲̤͇̼͖͋̑͆ͅ~̦̘̤̺̮̱̍̾ͥ̅̚~̡ͮ

r/shortscarystories 4 yr. ago hyperobscura 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽? 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙰 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙶𝙸𝙰𝙽𝚃 𝙿𝙾𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙿𝙻𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝙾𝙽 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻, 𝙱𝙾𝙻𝙳 𝙻𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 𝚈𝙴𝙻𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶: ‘𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚂𝙴𝙴𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙼𝙰𝙽?’ 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑, 𝚊 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜? 𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚜? 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝚊 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝚂𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚏𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍𝚕𝚢. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎? 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙰𝚗𝚍? 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙷𝚘𝚠 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚢 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎? 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 ...𝚁𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝. 𝚆𝙾𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙴𝚡𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚐𝚛𝚒𝚙. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡𝚎𝚍, 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚋𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙸...𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙸𝙽𝚃. 𝙻𝙸𝚅𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚁𝙾𝙾𝙼 - 𝙲𝙷𝙰𝙾𝚃𝙸𝙲, 𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙴𝙳 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙴𝙼𝙿𝚃𝚈 𝙻𝙸𝚀𝚄𝙾𝚁 𝙱𝙾𝚃𝚃𝙻𝙴𝚂. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚌𝚑, 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎...𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚄𝚗𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚕𝚢, 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚗 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚒𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚔𝚒𝚗 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚘𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚙𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚑. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙴𝙰𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚚𝚞𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍. 𝙷𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚞𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚎𝚜; 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝. 𝙰𝚗 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚋𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚋𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝙴𝙻𝙳𝙴𝚁𝙻𝚈 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚎𝚕𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚏𝚏. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝙰 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚜𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚊𝚙𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙲𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙾: 𝙴𝚇𝚃. 𝙱𝚁𝙸𝙲𝙺 𝙱𝚄𝙸𝙻𝙳𝙸𝙽𝙶 - 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴 - 𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙴 𝚂𝚃𝚁𝙴𝙴𝚃 𝙻𝙰𝙼𝙿 𝙸𝙻𝙻𝚄𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛. 𝙷𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠-𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚗 𝚞𝚗𝚔𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚜. 𝙰 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚊𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚢. 𝙰 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚒𝚐𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜. 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚓𝚘𝚕𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚔𝚎, 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚍𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚐𝚒𝚌 𝚟𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚐𝚎. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘...𝚆𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗? 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝙽𝚘 𝚗𝚘 𝚗𝚘. 𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙷𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚓𝚎𝚛𝚔𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚞𝚍𝚍𝚎𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚌𝚔. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚔. 𝙸𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗’𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎. 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗. 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚘𝚠. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗? 𝚄𝙽𝙺𝙽𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝. 𝚆𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍. 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙼𝙰𝙽 𝚆𝚑𝚘 𝚊𝚖 𝙸? 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙴𝙽𝙳 “It’s me dad,” I say, tears streaming down my face. They told me the disease would consume his mind, but I was never really prepared for it. I hug him tightly. A part of me knows that this is goodbye. “Who is the man,” he just keeps muttering.

Go to tinyhorribles r/tinyhorribles 5 days ago therealdocturner Silence Is Violence The alley is dark. I see my breath in the frigid air. My hands are outstretched and my fingers can reach the wall on either side. It’s narrow. The walls are wet and slicked with some kind of slime. Children are screaming somewhere in the dark. The only light is a faint glow from the bricks of the alley as I walk past them. The screams are behind me and they’re getting closer. Footsteps. Like a thousand people running behind me, getting closer and closer. My chest hurt̸ and I fałł over. The alley is go̕ne. Everything is light now. Too bright to see anything. I hear people yelling. I smell soap. I fall back into the darkness of the alley. I run and I can feel my heart trying to beat its way out of my chest. The screaming children behind me say my name. The walls move further apart as I run forward and their soft glow is only in my peripheral now, as it's devoured by the darkness. It’s getting colder. I run into the dark̵. God, help me. There are lights in front of me. I move forward. I recognize the main street of the town where I grew up. Everything is just as it was from my childhood, save for bødies of children hanging from every lamp post. They’ve been gutted. Their insides pile up underneath the swaying corpses. Roman Numerals are carved into their foreheads. My chest exploded in paın. My hometown is go̶ne. Light and pain are all that remain. Frantic voices. My chest is on fire. My shirt is open. I fall back onto Blackstone Avenue. The buildings are on fire. Children with accusatory eyes surround me on the street. They’re pointing, at me. The Roman numerals are raised and bleeding. Ligature marks are on every neck, and all of them begin to walk toward me. Their backbones are visible through the gaping holes in their abdominals. My chest is in agøny. Just before they grab me, I’m back in that blinding light. Convulsıons and I feel my own spit running down my neck. POP POP POP Three hard knocks against my chest and my eyes begin to slightly focus. I’m in a hospıtals room. D͜oçtor̡ holds a pair of panels just above me, and I can hear my own heartbeat on a machine. Two days later. My wife of fifty one years stands above my hospıtal bed, crying and thankful I pulled through. She stays until I make her go home. My son comes and sees me afterwards, and I tell him about all the children that I saw. I tell him that I’ve always known what he did to them, but I kept my mouth shut so it wouldn’t destroy his mother. I tell him I can’t do it anymore. I rısk condemnation with my silence. He’s got to turn himself in. He tells me he loves me, as he pushes a pi]low over my fac͘e.

r/shortscarystories 24 days ago GuyAwks Forget Me Anniversary Not What kind of husband goes and forgets an anniversary? And not just any anniversary. Our 10 year anniversary. I didn’t want to have to remind Stephen about it. I wanted him to remember it on his own, to show me he cared about our partnership. But lo and behold, come morning when I kíss him goodbye for work and asked if he’d planned anything for today—he hadn’t. He just read his newspaper like it was any other day, with no hint of reaction. Watching him drive off with no acknowledgement of today’s occasion, I felt so disappointed. I even pulled out my phone to call up our marriage counselor, Dr Faulkner, to talk through my feelings and book an appointment for us. But, just my luck, he wasn’t picking up. So instead, I swallow my discontent and got our two kids ready for school. All throughout doing my daily household chores, I held out hope that Stephen might ring me to wish me, or have a bouquet delivered, or even pop home to whisk me off for a fancy lunch. Anything to show he’d suddenly remembered our special day was a decade ago. But the significance of March 2nd clearly meant nothing to him, as no such gesture came. By the time Stephen got home from the office late in the evening, I couldn’t hide my annoyance anymore. Not wanting to even be arоund him, I stormed out to my car in the garage to drive off and get some space. That’s when I heard the muffled sound coming from the trunk. Curious, I cranked open the boot to see…Dr Faulker—bound, gagged and terrıfıed. “Happy anniversary, honey” purred Stephen’s voıce from behind me. I whirled around, my heart aflutter and a wıde, joyful smıle on my face. “Oh Stephen, you did remember! And with a personal touch, you shouldn’t have.” Swooning, I ripped the gag off our helpless victim. “Stephen, Janice…p-please let me go!” Dr Faulkner gasped in sweaty confusion. “What are you doing?!” “He’s been in there since yesterday,” Stephen informed me. “I knew you’d find your anniversary gift eventually.” “Anniversary?!” yelped Dr Faulkner. “I-isn’t your wedding anniversary in November!?” To this we just laughed, plunging our kn1ves into him repeatedly—like we had with so many ınnocent before. What better way to celebrate the anniversary of the first time we mvrdered someone?

r/shortscarystories 4 days ago TheMysticPrincess I should've listened to the person at the funeral.... My grandma loved crafts; knitting, stitching, sewing, embroidery, if it involved yarn or thread, it was something she loved, and I loved watching it. Whenever I went to her house, I'd spend hours watching her craft while she told me stories. One of her favorite things to craft were dolls, specifically felt dolls with button eyes. They were all different in sizes, shapes, colors, clothing, but the one thing they had in common was that they always had an image embroidered in them over the heart; the images varied from cars to bottles to apples and many of them she made of people she knew. They were also her favorite things to give to people. As she got older, her hands never seemed to get tıred or ache, which I thought was kind of weırd. She told me it was because of all her crafting that her hands were so strong. I was just a kid, so I believed her. I mean there wasn't any other explanation, right? I also began to notice whenever grandma gave someone a doll, they'd have this look of....panic in their eyes. I never asked why. I didn't think it was any of my business. The inevitable day came and we had to bury her. There weren't a lot of people at the funerαl, which was odd; grandma knew and befriended a lot of people during her life, surely they wouldn't miss this for the world. I decided to talk to one of the few who did show up; I mentioned it and they replied "....I'm guessing no one ever told you." They explained that each time she'd sew a lookalike and give it to someone, they'd die the next day. A gîrl who had tried to seduce grandpa got one with the patch of a car; she ended up getting into a car crash and didn't make it. Someone who had called her a pig and tried to stuff an apple in her mouth got one with an apple; a piece of one got lodged in their trachea and they couldn't get it out in time. Her best friend who was moving away got a glass of filtered water; the autopsy showed cyanide in her b!ood. They told me more of these, but I brushed them off as coincidences; there's no way a doll could ķíľľ people. Even if it was true, it'd be over nơw. Years later my mother diεd in her sleep, leaving me alonȩ with the house. After the funerαl, I was cleaning up her things when I found something in the bed that made my b!ood run cøld; a lookalike doll with 3 Zs as a patch over the heart. Which leads me to now; yesterday I found a doll outside my door and it looks like me. Over the heart is a patch of a kn*fe. I mean, it's weird, but I don't think it's anything to woŗry̕ ....Why did I just hear the front door open?

r/TwoSentenceHorror 6 days ago Old_Lady_In_Titanic Everyone else was distracted by the huge iceberg that glided within inches of the ship. Only I saw the giant metallic sea-bear gash a hole in the hull beneath the waterline with it's razor sharp knife-like claws.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 hr. ago jesth857 I Watched As My Son Slowly Turned Blue After Tasting My Food From DoorDash Will they ever stop trying to poison me?

ᴮᴵᴿᵀᴴᴰᴬʸ ᶜᴬᴺᴰᴸᴱᔆ ᵇʸ ʳᵉᵈᵈⁱᵗ ᵘˢᵉʳ ᶻᵉⁿʳʸʰᵃᵒ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃʳᵈᵉˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱᶠᵗᵉᵉⁿ ᶠˡⁱᶜᵏᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ‧ ᴴᵉ ʰᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵖᵘᶠᶠᵉᵈ‧‧‧ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒ ᵃᵛᵃⁱˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵍˡᵃⁿᶜᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷʰᵒ ʰᵃᵈ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵗ ʰᵒᵘʳˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵉᵃᵘᵗⁱᶠᵘˡ ᶜᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵉˣᵖʳᵉˢˢⁱᵒⁿ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ᵘⁿᵇᵉᵃʳᵃᵇˡʸ ᵍᵘⁱˡᵗʸ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʳᵉᵈ ˢᵃᵈˡʸ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵘⁿʸⁱᵉˡᵈⁱⁿᵍ ᶠˡᵃᵐᵉˢ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵇᵃʳᵉˡʸ ᶠᵃˡᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ'ˢ ᶠᵉᵉᵇˡᵉ ᵃᵗᵗᵉᵐᵖᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᶠᵉʷ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠⁱʳˢᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ ᵂʰⁱˢᵖᵉʳⁱⁿᵍ "ᴴᵃᵖᵖʸ ᴮⁱʳᵗʰᵈᵃʸ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ⸴" ˢʰᵉ ᵇˡᵉʷ ᵃ ᵍᵘˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ʷⁱⁿᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃⁿᶜⁱⁿᵍ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˢ ᵈⁱˢˢⁱᵖᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵖᵘᶠᶠˢ ᵒᶠ ˢᵐᵒᵏᵉ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ʷʰʸ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘˡᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵃᵗ‧ ᴵᵗ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸ ʸᵉᵃʳ; ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵇᵃᵏᵉᵈ ᵃ ᵖᵉʳᶠᵉᶜᵗ ᶜᵃᵏᵉ⸴ ʰᵉ ᶠᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇˡᵒʷ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢʰᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉᵈ ʷᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵘᵐᵇᵉʳ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵃⁿᵈˡᵉˢ‧ ᵀⁱᵐᵐʸ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵒ ʰᵘᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵐᵒᵗʰᵉʳ‧‧‧ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ⁿᵒ ᵃᵛᵃⁱˡ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵐᵉʳᵉˡʸ ᵈʳⁱᶠᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ʰᵉʳ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳˢᵗᵃⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᵉⁱᵗʰᵉʳ‧

Tʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-Tʀᴇᴀᴛ /sʜᴏʀᴛsᴄᴀʀʏsᴛᴏʀɪᴇs GᴜʏAᴡᴋs Tʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-Tʀᴇᴀᴛ “Is ᴛʜɪs ʏᴏᴜʀ ғɪʀsᴛ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, Jᴀɴᴇᴛ? Yᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀ sᴏɴ Eᴅᴅʏ ᴀʀᴇ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪᴛ!” Mʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴍs ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴀᴅᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɴɪsʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʙᴡᴇʙs ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴ’s ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ. Aʟʟ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪs ᴀ sᴇᴀ ᴏғ sɪᴍɪʟᴀʀ Hᴀʟʟᴏᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀ ɪɴ ᴄᴀʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛs, ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴀs ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟᴇᴅ ᴀs ʜᴇʀs. “Yᴇs” I ᴀɴsᴡᴇʀ, ᴀᴅᴊᴜsᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʜᴏsᴛ ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏ ɪɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄᴀʀ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ. “Mʏ ғᴀᴍɪʟʏ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴏᴠᴇᴅ ʜᴇʀᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪᴛʏ.” “Oʜ ɪᴛ’s sᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴠᴇɴɪᴇɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ. Iɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴋɪᴅs ᴅᴏᴏʀ-ᴛᴏ-ᴅᴏᴏʀ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ, ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴏᴜʀ ᴄᴀʀs ɪɴ ᴀ ʟᴏᴄᴀʟ ᴄʜᴜʀᴄʜ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛ ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛs ғʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋs. Lɪғᴇ’s ᴀʟʟ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀᴅᴀᴘᴛɪɴɢ.” Eᴅᴅʏ ʙᴏʙs ɪɴ ᴇxᴄɪᴛᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪɴ ʜɪs ᴍᴏɴsᴛᴇʀ ᴄᴏsᴛᴜᴍᴇ. Eᴀɢᴇʀ, ʜᴇ sᴇᴛs ᴏғғ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴛʜᴇ sᴘᴏᴏᴋɪʟʏ ᴅᴇᴄᴏʀᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍɪɴɪᴠᴀɴs ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɪᴅs ʟɪɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ғᴏʀ ᴄᴀɴᴅʏ. “Tʜɪs ᴅᴏᴇs sᴇᴇᴍ ғᴜɴ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴋɪᴅs, Yᴠᴇᴛᴛᴇ” I ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍʏ ɴᴇɪɢʜʙᴏᴜʀ ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ sʜᴇ ᴘᴀssᴇs ᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʜᴏᴄᴏʟᴀᴛᴇs. “Bᴜᴛ ʜᴏᴡ sᴀғᴇ ɪs ᴛʜɪs? Wɪᴛʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀs’ ᴄᴀʀs…” “Hᴏɴᴇʏ, ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ɪs ᴍᴜᴄʜ sᴀғᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴛʀɪᴄᴋ-ᴏʀ- ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ!” sʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀssᴜʀᴇs ᴍᴇ. Sᴜᴅᴅᴇɴʟʏ, I ʜᴇᴀʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴀ ᴄᴀʀ ʙᴏᴏᴛ sʟᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ sʜᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴ ᴇɴɢɪɴᴇ ʀᴏᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟɪғᴇ. Tʜᴇ ʙʟᴀᴄᴋ SUV ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀʀᴋɪɴɢ ʟᴏᴛ ɪᴍᴍᴇᴅɪᴀᴛᴇʟʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴs ʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀʏ. Eᴅᴅʏ ɪs ɴᴏᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ sᴇᴇɴ. “Hᴇʏ!” I sᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ. Eᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ sᴘɪɴs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪʀᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ I’ᴍ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛᴏ sᴇᴇ ᴛʜᴇ SUV ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛɪɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴡɪɴᴅᴏᴡs ᴇʀʀᴀᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ ᴏᴜᴛ. Wɪᴛʜ ᴀ sᴄʀᴇᴇᴄʜ ɪᴛ ɢᴏᴇs ᴛᴇᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴘᴀsᴛ ᴜs. Aᴛ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜɴᴋ-ᴏʀ-ᴛʀᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ ᴘᴀʀᴇɴᴛs ʙᴇɢɪɴ sʜᴏᴜᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀsᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍʏsᴛᴇʀɪᴏᴜs ᴠᴀɴ ᴀs ɪᴛ ғʟᴇᴇs, ᴀʟʟ ᴡʜɪʟsᴛ ғʀᴀɴᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ ᴀʀᴇ sᴀғᴇ. “Is ᴀɴʏᴏɴᴇ ᴍɪssɪɴɢ?!” Aᴍɪᴅsᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴀɴɪᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴄʜᴀᴏs, I ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇ Eᴅᴅʏ ʀᴜɴɴɪɴɢ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. I ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ɪɴ ʀᴇʟɪᴇғ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʜɪᴍ ᴀ ʙɪɢ ʜᴜɢ. “Aʟʟ ᴅᴏɴᴇ—ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴛʜɪɴɢ” ʜᴇ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜʟʏ. I sᴍɪʟᴇ ᴀ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ sᴍɪʟᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ. Tʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴇᴘᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴠᴀɴ, ᴅʀɪᴠᴇɴ ʙʏ ᴍʏ ʜᴜsʙᴀɴᴅ, ᴡᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛ ᴅɪsᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ. Iᴛ ʟᴇғᴛ ᴍʏ sᴏɴ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴀᴡʟ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀs ᴘᴀʀᴋᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʙʀᴀᴋᴇ ʟɪɴᴇs. Tᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ʜᴇʟᴘʟᴇss ғᴀᴍɪʟɪᴇs ᴅʀɪᴠᴇ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ’ʟʟ ғɪɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇᴍsᴇʟᴠᴇs sᴍᴀsʜɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʀᴇᴇs ɪɴsᴛᴇᴀᴅ ᴏғ ᴅɪɢɢɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ sᴡᴇᴇᴛs.

I ✊ just 😖 put 😶 my ✊ newborn 👶 son 👦 into 👇 a 😹 blender 👋👋

https://www.reddit.com/r/FullEpisodesOfSB/new/

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

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 yr. ago LifeIsContrast I ̼ͨͪj̱͉umpé̞d̊̐ fro̞̜m̲̐ the ed̰ͫ̀ġͪe̩͐ and̝͍ͭ ͉̾̈́pl͖͓̂u͇ͩ̋n̏̔g̯ed͓͎ͦ͂ t̹̅̀o̹͇w̆ards thͤe d͎͛ͤe̬̰p͔̂t̻h̟̓ͫs̘̩͊̑.͓̰.̰ͭ͐.̑.̭ p͔̻̥̮̒͒l̗͙̦̩̪̪͙̯͐̂̚ĕ̻̝̳̣͈͖̞̎̿̊͊͋̈́͒̑a͚̣̹ͮ̌͆̇̾s̠̘̰͙̰̐͑̋e͇̰̳͓̥̊̂͌͐̍͑̂,͚̘̜̉ͯ̒ͤͬ ̖̭̲̟̥͍̹͎ͧ͒ͯ͒ͨ͗̉F̭͎̌̇͑ͣḬ̑̃ͥͥͧN̗̰̎̓͗D͓̠͎̂̿ͨ́̉͐ ̘̤̤̠̘̺̼͖̩̓̆͒̔ͭ̆ͯ̚M̲̫̙͙̏ͦ̀̑E̺̗͈̣̹ͯ́̚ ̬̤͎̪͔̤̤̯ͧ͌ͭ̌̿ͩA͎̗͉͕̯̲̤͓͒̌ͪN̫̥͎ͯ̈̎͌͊͒D̠̬̮͆ ̬͇̫̠ͩ͒K̞͕̙̮̫͇͎͉ͤ̈́̿͒ͧ̽̐ͤͅI͉̒͗ͥL͍̤͚͖͚̆ͯ̎̽̑L͓̣͎̗̾ͯ̈́̚ ̣͎̱̪̝͉̈́ͣ̂̓̆̂̋ͤͫM̙̙̼ͩ͗͋ͣͫE̮̔̌͑̊!̳̖͉̺̾ͅͅ

Grandfather Tim By Reddit user Human_Gravy Grandpa Tim was a bit of a recluse, as my family liked to say. He lived out in the middle of nowhere in an old, dilapidated house. But when he came around, everyone listened. No one argues or disobeys his commands, as strange as they were. For example, the time Tim convinced my Aunt Betty to purchase a life insurance policy on my Uncle Bill. Betty argued but gave in to Grandpa who insisted on paying for the policy. Two years later, Uncle Bill passed away from a sudden heart attack. Aunt Betty received a huge payout that helped Uncle Bill's wife with the funeral costs. Sometimes his advice would be to get checked at the doctor, even if you weren't sick, and they would find a life threatening tumor inside you. Other times, it would be to stay home from work on a certain day and then you'd see a twenty car pile up on the highway in the news. Grandpa Tim always knew exactly when to call. When Tim died, I inherited all his possessions including his house. The lawyer instructed me to check his mailbox for a letter Tim left me. I found myself opening a door in the basement and then almost fainting when I saw the endless cavern of hourglasses as far as the eye could see. The closest hourglasses to the door had the names of my family members etched on their bases. That's when I saw the sand in my parent's hourglasses about to run out. I called them and told to not get on the plane heading to Tim's funeral. The sand in their hourglasses refilled.

Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 8 yr. ago EvantheNerd83 A Perfect Baby 𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 A Perfect Baby When she was born, Little Jamie got all the attention. Her mother cradled her in her arms and the doctors and nurses who were present crowded around them. They peered over the shoulders of their coworkers. They wanted to see the most perfect baby in the world. And Little Jamie was perfect. She had bright blue eyes that shone like sapphires, such a deep shade that it reflected the sky. A pink and soft body. She glowed under the fluorescent lights of the hospital room, an angel delivered in mortal form. Everyone stared and cooed and stroked her puffy cheeks, took out their cameras and took pictures when they could, complimented her mother for conceiving such a lovely child. Her mother blushed in embarrassment and scratched her black hair. It was a joyful reception until the armed men in the uniforms stepped in to the room. Laughter died. Awkward coughing ensued. It was time to follow the rules. The symbol pinned to their chests declared as much. Little Jamie was handed over to them, their stoic expressions remaining untainted as they walked out. Her mother watched and begged and screamed. But, the nurses held her back. Urged her to be quiet. For her own sake. Little Jamie's newborn wailing cut-off down the hallway. The elevator door had closed. Now, she was downstairs with the others. Little Jamie was perfect, but mortal perfection wasn't acceptable. She had to be Aryan.

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 5 yr. ago [deleted] «ʷᵃʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵉᵗᵘˢ The Quickening We had always wanted kids. Negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test. I was beginning to wonder if we had waited too long. But then the stories started. Rumours at first. Classic internet forum gossip. Taking about declining birth-rates and increased birth defects. We assumed it was scaremongering, climate change activists trying to blame “chemicals” in the water or something. But the rumours didn’t stop. Pictures began emerging online of babies, being born around the world. They were all so similar and they made my blood run cold. They didn’t look like babies at all. Suddenly no one was picketing abortion clinics anymore. The authorities started to panic. They didn’t want the birthrate to drop to zero. All non-emergency scans were banned. All the babies being born are malformed, and normal/viable babies are exceedingly rare, very rare/non-existent. By the time I realised I was pregnant it was too late to do anything. There was rioting on the streets. We hadn’t left the house in days. The city was on fire. We bunkered down. I dreamed of a parasite growing inside of me, unable to see, unable to scream.. I reached up inside myself with household supplies. I couldn’t let the thing feed on me anymore. It felt like a bolt of lightning deep inside me. It took a long time. Blood dripped down my legs. I felt dizzy. But it would be worth it. I didn’t want it inside me anymore. The pain ripped through me and I felt like I was being torn apart but then suddenly in a gush of blood she was here. I was covered in sweat. I gasped for air and looked down at her. She was so tiny. She fit into the palm of my hand. She was still. And, she was perfect.

https://www.reddit.com/r/BabyNameLab/comments/vvdp14/my_partner_is_pregnant_on_our_first_child_and_we/

ᴍʏ ᴍᴜᴍ (𝟾𝟸ғ) ᴛᴏʟᴅ ᴍᴇ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪsʜᴇs (𝟷𝟼) ʙᴜᴛ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴡᴀs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙᴜsʏ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ ғᴏʀᴛɴɪᴛᴇ (𝟹 ᴋɪʟʟs) sᴏ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ɢʀᴀʙʙᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏɴᴛʀᴏʟʟᴇʀ (ᴅᴜᴀʟsʜᴏᴄᴋ 𝟺) ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜʀᴇᴡ ɪᴛ ᴀᴛ ʜᴇʀ (𝟷𝟹𝟾ᴋᴘʜ). sʜᴇ ʜᴇᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴅɪᴇᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀɪsᴏɴ (𝟷𝟾 ʏᴇᴀʀs). ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ɪɴ ᴘʀɪsᴏɴ ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ɪɴᴄɪᴛᴇᴅ sᴇᴠᴇʀᴀʟ ʀɪᴏᴛs (𝟹) ᴀɴᴅ ᴀssᴜᴍᴇᴅ ʟᴇᴀᴅᴇʀsʜɪᴘ ᴏғ ᴀ ɢᴀɴɢ ʀᴇsᴘᴏɴsɪʙʟᴇ ғᴏʀ sᴍᴜɢɢʟɪɴɢ ᴅʀᴜɢs (ᴄᴏᴄᴀɪɴᴇ) ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʀʏ. ɪ (𝟷𝟸ᴍ) ᴀʟsᴏ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀssᴀssɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ sᴇᴠᴇʀᴀʟ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀɪᴛɪᴇs (ᴍɪᴄʜᴀᴇʟ ᴊᴀᴄᴋsᴏɴ, ᴇʟᴠɪs ᴘʀᴇsʟᴇʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴇғғʀᴇʏ ᴇᴘsᴛᴇɪɴ) ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʟᴀɴɴᴇᴅ ᴀ ᴛᴇʀʀᴏʀɪsᴛ ᴀᴛᴛᴀᴄᴋ (𝟿/𝟷𝟷). ʀᴇᴅᴅɪᴛ, ᴀɪᴛᴀ?

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PrinceJustice237 • 2y ago As a fan of hurt/comfort/whump, I realised that I put my favourite characters through so much because I want to see their friends comfort them and help them through the aftermath. It’s good old fashioned catharsis, plus drama is just entertaining. A pure, fluffy, happy story where nothing bad happens works great for a oneshot but it’s harder to sustain 20+ chapters of that, you need drama and conflict and that requires stakes. That usually involve someone suffering to some degree.

• 2y ago Honestly, a huge reason why I torment my favorites is so that when the comfort comes along (because it always does in my case), their friends/found family can show them how much they are loved.

Yk what fk it Regretevator has the gayest ahh fandoms of all time bru , I can't take a step without seeing a gay horizontal threesome. So yk what? Fk it. Fk gnarpy , fk bive , fk split , fk poob , especially fk pest , or fk pest twice I hate that MF , fk Dr retro , fk it all. Oh except for lampert , he's the only chill MF

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 day ago CenturyCoal I pressed the stuffed teddy bear's chest to hear it's voice box the bear should have said 'i love you' not 'let me out'

Jessica by reddit user Breakevencoast5 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ↓ˢᶜʳᵒˡˡ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ↓ My soul mate left me today. All that's left of him now, is pairs of sock that probably fell out of his suitcase, and a note labelled "Read Me" that I found on the kitchen counter, picked it up and started to read. “just can't take it anymore. Jess, you know love you, and I always will, but over the last few months things have gotten bad for me. Yes, it's her. She's following me again and I'm scared that if she found you she'd kill you. I'm sorry, I wish I could go into more detail, but you be home in a few minutes, and I don't want to have to tell you any of this to your face. It would destroy me to see you cry. - David.” Suddenly the front door creaked open. Instinctively, grabbed a knife off of the knife rack and ran into the pantry. "Hello?" Called a woman from the entrance way. I didn't answer. Instead, I cracked the pantry door open just enough to see the note on the counter. "Anyone in here?" She yelled, walking closer to the kitchen. "I'm not going to hurt you." She stepped into the kitchen. There was a small Swiss army knife in her hand. She picked up the note and started to read. Within seconds she started crying hysterically. The woman fell to her knees and dropped the knife. lignored every logical though in my brain, kicked the door open and thrust the knife into her stomach. "Welcome home Jessica" I said, twisting the knife with a bright smile on my face.

1 day ago u/Sticky_Cheetos He handed me a box and said, “If you press this button, you get $100,000, but it takes one year off of your lįfe.” I pressed it once, and everything went dark̵.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 1 min. ago AcrobaticTransition4 “My lower back hurt” I told the chiropractor Then I heard a snap and then all the pain has been permanently alleviated as i bent slumped over feeling nothing...

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

r/TwoSentenceHorror 9 mo. ago Jellycaine The aliens invaded planet earth, and the human never seems to notice. A thousand years later and they already think shadows are a natural occurrence.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 min. ago derf_vader The crack in the wall was only wide enough for a shadow to pass through. I didn't know once it went in I would be stuck here in the wall along with it, unable to leave, and unable to cry out and warn others.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 40 min. ago derf_vader "Hello Darkness my old friend..." I sang the familiar lyrics as I passed by the dark alley. "I've come to greet you at the end," the Darkness sang back softly creeping, as it enveloped me in the sounds of silence...

ʳ/ᵗʰʳᵉᵉˢᵉⁿᵗᵉⁿᶜᵉʰᵒʳʳᵒʳ ᵐʸᵈᵃᵈˢⁿᵃᵐᵉⁱˢʰᵃʳᵒˡᵈ ᵀʰᵉ ⁿᵉⁱᵍʰᵇᵒᵘʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ʰᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵃⁿ ᵉᵃˢᵗᵉʳ ᵉᵍᵍ ʰᵘⁿᵗ⸴ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᴵ ᵉˣᵖᵉᶜᵗᵉᵈ‧ ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ᵏⁱᵈˢ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖˡᵃˢᵗⁱᶜ ᵉᵍᵍˢ ᴵ ʰⁱᵈ ˡᵃˢᵗ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ‧ ᴵ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇˡᵃᶜᵏ ʷⁱᵈᵒʷ ˢᵖⁱᵈᵉʳˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃⁿᵍʳʸ ʷʰᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵉᵍᵍˢ ᵍᵉᵗ ᶜʳᵃᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ‧‧‧

⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⢶⣦⣶⣶⣤⣤⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠙⠻⣿⣿⠿⠿⠛⠛⠛⠻⣿⣿⣇⠀ ⠀⠀⢤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⢸⣷⡄⠀⣁⣀⣤⣴⣿⣿⣿⣆ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⠏⠀⠀⠀⣿⣧⠀⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠿⠇⢀⣼⣿⣿⠛⢯⡿⡟ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠦⠴⢿⢿⣿⡿⠷⠀⣿⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⣷⣶⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⣶⣦⠃⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁

⡡⢣⠘⡰⢈⡒⢌⠒⡌⠴⣈⠒⡌⠒⡌⠴⣈⠒⡌⠒⡌⠴⣈⠒⡌⠒⡌⠴⡈⢆⡑⢢⢁⣲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣦⣅⡒⡌⠰⣁⠒⣰⣦⣶⣶⣶⣶⣴⣂⠜⡰⢈⠆ ⡑⢢⠡⣑⠢⠜⡠⢃⠜⡰⢠⢃⠬⡑⢌⠒⡄⢣⠌⡱⢈⡒⢄⠣⢌⡱⢈⢆⡑⠢⠜⡠⢃⣿⣿⡿⢁⠆⠭⣙⢛⡛⢿⣿⣷⣷⣤⣿⠟⡋⠔⣂⠒⡌⡙⢻⣿⣆⠥⢊ ⡅⢣⠒⡄⡓⢌⡱⢌⢊⠴⡁⢎⡰⢡⢊⠱⡘⠤⢊⢅⠣⡘⠌⢆⠣⡰⢉⠆⠬⡑⢊⡑⣾⣿⣿⢃⠎⣘⠒⡰⢂⡜⢠⢂⢍⣿⠏⡡⢊⠔⡡⢢⠱⢠⡑⢢⠹⣿⣎⠆ ⡜⢢⠑⡰⢉⠆⡔⢊⡔⢢⢉⠆⠴⡁⢎⠱⠨⠜⡡⢊⠴⣁⠫⢄⠓⠤⢃⠎⡱⢈⠥⣼⣿⣿⡏⠆⡜⡠⠍⡔⡡⠜⡰⢈⣾⣷⢈⠔⡡⢊⡔⢡⠊⠥⡘⣰⣿⣹⣿⢈ ⡜⢠⠃⡜⢂⢎⡘⠔⣨⠒⡌⠜⢢⢉⠆⣩⠑⣊⠱⣈⠒⠤⢃⠎⡌⠓⡌⡜⢠⢃⢼⣿⣿⣿⠣⡘⠤⡑⣊⠔⣡⠚⡄⢃⢿⣿⣇⢊⠔⡡⠘⠤⡉⢆⣡⣻⡿⣿⣿⠂ ⡌⡅⢎⠰⡉⢆⠸⡘⢄⠣⡘⠬⣁⠎⡘⡄⢣⡘⠤⡑⢊⡑⡊⠴⡉⢜⠰⢌⠒⡌⣾⣿⣿⡏⡔⢡⢃⢒⠡⣊⢄⠣⠜⡨⢘⢿⣿⣧⡊⠴⣭⣶⣷⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⠏⡌ ⡒⢌⠢⡑⠜⣈⠦⡑⢊⠴⣁⠣⠢⠜⣡⠘⡔⢨⠒⣉⠆⣡⠑⡆⣉⠦⡉⢆⠱⣸⣿⣿⣿⢃⠜⢢⠘⡌⡱⢠⢊⠜⢢⠡⢃⡌⢛⢿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣾⣽⣿⣿⠟⡡⢊⠔ ⡑⡊⡔⢩⡘⠤⢒⢡⡉⡒⠤⢃⡍⠲⣀⠧⠨⢅⠚⡄⠚⡄⢣⢐⠂⢆⠱⣈⢆⡙⣿⣿⡿⡈⠜⡠⢃⡔⢡⠢⢡⠚⠤⡙⠤⡘⢢⠘⡌⢛⡛⢟⡛⠛⠭⡐⠬⡐⠣⢌ ⣃⠣⡐⢄⡰⢠⠚⡄⢠⠃⠆⡜⢠⠢⡀⠔⢢⠘⠤⣐⣢⣴⣤⣾⣶⣾⡶⠿⠾⠷⠿⠿⢷⣷⣶⣷⣤⣴⣦⣴⣂⣔⠄⢣⡐⢠⠂⡔⠰⢠⠐⡄⡐⡒⢄⠣⢄⠓⡰⢀ ⢆⡱⢈⠆⡔⢡⣊⣴⣡⣎⣵⣌⣆⡱⣈⣮⣴⡿⠾⠛⡍⡩⢉⠔⡠⢂⠔⡉⢆⠩⢌⡑⢢⠐⡄⠢⢌⠩⡉⢍⡙⡛⠿⣷⣾⣤⣷⠾⠷⠿⠿⠷⣶⣷⣬⣖⠉⢆⠱⣈ ⢆⢂⢣⣸⣴⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⡿⢛⠋⡅⢢⠑⣡⠒⡡⢊⠴⡁⢎⠢⡉⢆⢃⡒⢌⠂⢇⡸⢁⠎⡔⠡⢆⢢⢁⡃⢆⡉⢛⠻⣿⣬⣱⢈⠱⢠⢉⠛⣻⣿⣮⡔⢂ ⢌⢢⣾⣿⠟⢋⠡⢂⡱⣸⠾⡛⢡⠘⡄⢣⠘⡤⠩⢄⠣⠔⡃⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⡘⢄⠋⡔⠤⢃⠜⡠⢋⠔⢢⠡⠜⡠⠜⣠⠃⡔⡙⢻⣷⣕⠢⢌⠒⠤⡙⢿⣿⡆ ⣸⣿⢟⠡⢊⠔⡡⢣⡞⢅⠣⡘⢄⢣⠘⠤⢣⠐⠣⢌⠒⡡⠜⡠⢃⠜⡠⢃⠜⡠⠎⡌⠜⡠⢃⠎⡰⣁⠎⡸⢄⠃⢎⠱⡘⢄⠣⠔⡡⢆⡘⢻⣿⣤⢉⠆⡱⢈⣿⣿ ⣿⡿⣈⠱⡈⠦⢡⠛⡰⢈⠆⣑⠊⠤⡉⢆⣡⢊⡱⢈⡌⠱⣈⠱⡈⢆⠱⢌⠢⡑⠬⡐⢣⠑⡌⢢⡑⢄⢊⠔⣨⣘⣢⠑⡌⢢⢉⠒⡡⢆⡘⢄⠚⣿⣧⢊⢔⣥⣾⣿ ⣿⡇⢆⠱⣈⠑⢆⡱⢂⡱⢊⠤⡉⢆⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣬⠑⡄⢣⠘⡄⠣⢌⠒⣡⠒⡡⢆⠣⢌⡡⠘⡄⣊⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⠊⡜⡐⢢⠑⡌⠒⡌⢿⣯⣿⣿⣺⣿ ⣿⡇⢎⣰⢆⡉⠆⡔⢡⢂⠥⢂⡱⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠘⡄⠣⢌⠱⡨⠘⡄⠣⢔⡈⠖⣨⠐⡅⢲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⢆⠱⡈⡜⢨⡑⢌⡘⣿⣿⡞⣿⣿ ⢹⣿⡄⣿⠤⡘⢰⠘⡄⢎⠰⢃⠔⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢃⠌⣑⠊⡔⢡⢃⠬⡑⢢⠘⡔⢢⠑⡌⣹⣿⣿⣿⣟⣿⣿⡿⣿⡏⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠒⣸⣿⢭⣿⠏ ⢌⠻⣿⡯⢐⢡⠊⠴⡈⢆⢃⠎⡰⢙⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣷⣿⠏⡌⠒⡌⢢⠑⡢⢌⠢⡑⢢⠑⡌⢢⠱⡐⢌⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢃⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⣑⠊⡜⢰⣿⡏⡅⢊ ⡌⢢⢹⡇⠎⠤⡙⠤⡑⢌⠢⠚⡄⢣⠘⡛⠿⠿⠿⢛⡉⠒⡌⢱⠈⡆⣑⠒⡌⠢⢅⠣⡘⢄⡃⠖⡡⢊⠔⡛⠿⠿⠿⠿⢋⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡠⢃⠜⡰⣿⡗⡨⢡ ⡜⢠⢻⣿⠈⢆⡑⢢⠉⢆⡑⢣⠘⣄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⠤⡘⢡⠜⢢⠑⡰⢂⡱⢈⡱⢈⠆⣑⠢⣘⠰⣁⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⠤⡑⢌⠢⡑⠌⢆⡱⢈⠆⣱⣿⡧⡑⢂ ⡜⢠⠚⣿⣏⠰⡈⢆⢩⠂⡜⢠⠣⢄⠣⡑⢊⠴⣁⠒⡉⢆⡘⢢⢉⠴⡁⢆⠱⢠⠃⡜⢠⢃⠤⢃⠆⣡⠱⡈⢆⠱⣈⠒⣡⠚⡄⢣⠘⡌⠜⢢⡐⢡⢊⣼⣿⠇⣌⠡ ⡜⢢⢁⠻⣿⣷⡁⠎⠤⣉⠴⡁⠎⠤⢃⠬⢡⠒⠤⠹⣖⣴⣈⠆⡌⢢⠑⡌⢊⠴⡑⢌⠒⡌⢢⠡⢊⢔⣢⣿⢃⠒⠤⣉⠔⢢⠘⡄⢣⡘⢌⡡⠘⣄⣾⣿⠟⡰⢠⠃ ⡜⢄⠪⠔⡹⣿⣿⣮⠰⢄⠢⡑⢊⡱⢈⠆⠣⠜⢢⠑⠬⢻⣿⣿⣶⣧⣜⣠⢃⠒⡌⢢⣑⣌⣦⣵⣾⠿⢋⠔⡨⠘⡔⢢⠘⢢⡑⠬⢡⠘⡄⢂⢇⣾⣿⢋⠆⣑⠢⣉ ⡜⢠⠃⢎⠰⢌⢻⣿⣷⣮⡐⡡⢃⠔⢣⠘⡡⢍⢢⢉⠆⡡⢂⠜⡙⡛⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢛⢛⠫⡁⢆⡘⠤⢊⡔⢩⠰⡁⢎⢡⠘⡄⢣⠘⣄⣷⣿⠟⡡⢊⠴⡁⢖⠠ ⡈⡁⡌⠸⢄⡈⢄⠸⢿⣿⣿⣄⣇⠸⡀⢇⠡⡈⠄⡌⡈⢡⡈⢄⠡⡈⢄⠉⡈⣁⠉⡄⣁⠌⡠⢁⠤⡈⠤⢁⠸⡀⢇⠸⡀⠌⣠⠸⣀⣿⣿⡿⢁⠌⡠⢁⡄⠡⠌⡠ ⠥⡑⢌⠱⣈⠲⣈⠦⢡⠙⡻⢿⣿⣿⣶⣌⣢⠑⠬⡐⢡⠒⡌⢢⠑⠬⡘⢌⠱⣀⠣⠔⠢⠜⡰⢡⠒⡡⢃⠍⢢⠑⡌⢢⣁⣧⣶⣿⡿⢛⠅⣊⠔⣊⠑⡆⢌⠣⣑⠢ ⠣⠜⡠⢃⠆⡱⢄⠚⡄⡓⢄⠣⡘⣙⠻⢿⢿⣿⣷⣷⣦⣵⣈⣆⡉⢆⠱⣈⠒⡄⢃⠎⡱⢈⡔⢡⢊⣔⣡⣮⣶⣷⣿⣿⠿⢟⠛⡡⠜⢢⢉⠴⡘⢄⠣⠜⣈⠖⡠⢃ ⣃⠣⡑⠬⣘⠰⢌⡑⢢⢉⠆⠥⡑⢄⣳⣾⣿⠯⢹⡟⡛⠻⠿⠿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⢿⣿⣦⣉⠆⡱⠌⡜⠢⢌⢢⠑⣊⠜⡌⠴⣈⠱⣈ ⢆⡱⢈⠖⣠⠃⢎⠰⡡⢊⠜⡠⢃⣾⣿⡿⢉⠆⡹⠕⡨⠑⡌⠒⡄⢆⠢⡐⠿⠟⣿⢻⢯⡿⣽⣯⣿⣽⣿⡘⣿⣇⠻⣿⣿⣎⠔⡡⢌⡑⣊⠤⢋⠔⡌⢢⡑⢢⠱⢠ ⠆⢆⠣⡘⠤⣉⠆⣃⢒⠡⡊⢴⣿⣿⢏⠰⡁⢎⠰⣁⠲⡉⠴⡉⢔⠊⡴⢁⠎⡔⠢⢌⠢⡐⢅⠢⣉⠙⣻⡇⢽⣿⡕⡨⣿⣿⡎⡔⢢⠑⡤⢚⡐⡊⠴⢡⡘⠤⠓⠤ ⡍⢢⠑⡸⢐⠢⠜⡰⣈⠱⢨⣾⣿⠏⡄⢣⢘⡤⢃⠤⢃⠜⠤⡑⢊⠜⡠⢃⠜⣠⠙⡄⠣⠜⢢⠑⡤⢃⠌⡓⠤⣿⣧⠑⡸⣿⣿⡰⢁⢎⠰⡁⠦⣉⢒⡡⠜⡰⢉⠒ ⡌⣅⢊⠱⣈⠱⢊⠱⣀⠣⣽⣿⢏⠰⡈⢆⣺⠡⢊⠔⡡⢊⠆⡅⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⡄⠣⢌⡑⠪⢄⠓⠤⡉⠦⡑⠢⢼⣿⢡⠒⣹⣿⡇⠎⣄⠣⡑⢆⡡⠒⠤⠓⡌⡱⢈ ⡒⠤⢊⠔⣡⠊⣅⠣⢄⠣⣿⣿⠌⢢⠱⣲⡇⡱⢈⠆⡱⢈⡒⢌⠢⡑⢌⠢⡑⢌⡑⠢⢌⠱⡈⠎⡔⡑⠢⢅⠃⢞⣿⢆⠱⣈⣿⣿⠐⢢⡑⢌⡒⢰⠉⢎⠱⣐⢡⠊ ⡑⡊⢅⠪⢄⠣⡄⢣⠊⡔⣿⣿⠘⡄⢓⣸⡇⠰⣁⠚⡄⢣⠘⡄⢣⠘⠤⠓⡌⢢⠌⡱⢈⠆⡅⡃⢆⠱⡉⢆⠩⣘⣿⠎⡰⠄⣿⣿⢈⠥⡘⢄⠎⣡⠚⡌⢒⠌⡢⢑ ⠥⡑⢊⠔⢣⡘⠰⣁⢃⡒⣿⣷⢡⠘⠢⢼⡇⠣⢄⠣⡘⢄⠣⡘⠤⣉⠒⠥⡘⢄⠚⡄⢣⠘⠤⡑⢌⠢⢱⢈⠒⢬⣿⠃⠴⡁⣾⣿⠠⢒⠡⢎⠰⡁⢎⠰⡉⢆⡱⢈ ⢣⢘⠡⢊⠆⡜⢡⠜⡠⢆⢹⣿⡢⢉⡑⢺⣏⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⠌⡤⢉⠆⡱⡈⠖⣈⠆⣩⠂⡕⡨⠜⠢⢌⠊⣴⣿⠉⢆⠡⣿⡿⡐⣉⠲⣈⠱⡘⢌⠱⣈⠖⡠⢃ ⠣⢌⠒⣉⠒⣌⠒⡘⡔⠨⡌⢿⣷⡡⢌⠩⣷⢂⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠣⡐⢣⠘⠤⡑⡘⡄⠎⡄⢣⠰⡁⢎⠱⣈⠒⣼⡟⢌⠢⣩⣿⢃⢆⡑⢢⢡⠚⠤⣉⠒⡔⡨⢑⠌ ⡃⢎⡘⠤⣉⠤⣉⠒⠬⡑⢌⢂⠻⣷⣮⣴⣿⡌⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⡈⢆⠱⢂⠍⡢⢑⠢⠜⡰⢁⠦⡑⢌⡂⠇⡄⢣⣿⣧⣮⣴⡿⢃⠎⡰⢨⠡⢆⡉⠖⡨⡑⡰⢁⢣⠘ ⡑⠦⡘⡐⢆⠱⡠⢋⡔⡉⢆⡊⢱⠈⡍⢩⢹⣿⢀⠣⡘⠤⢃⠱⡈⠦⡉⢆⠱⡈⢆⠓⡄⡃⢆⡑⠢⠜⡰⢈⣭⣿⠩⠩⢍⢂⠣⡌⣑⠢⣑⠢⣉⢒⢡⠒⣡⠉⡆⢩ ⡑⢆⠱⢨⡘⡰⢡⠒⢤⠉⡆⠜⡡⠚⣌⠢⠌⣿⣆⠱⣈⠒⡉⢆⡑⢢⠑⡌⢢⠑⡌⢒⠌⠴⠡⢌⠓⡌⠰⣡⣿⣷⠡⢍⢂⠎⡱⢐⠢⣑⠢⡑⠔⡊⠤⠓⡄⡓⢌⠢ ⠑⠊⠴⠁⠦⠑⢢⠉⠆⢣⠘⠌⠡⠣⠄⠣⠉⢿⣿⡇⠤⠉⠒⡌⠴⠁⠎⠰⠁⠎⠰⠉⡜⠰⠉⠆⠱⠈⠑⣾⣿⠏⠘⠤⠉⠆⠑⠊⠱⢠⠃⠜⢡⠊⡅⠓⡌⠔⢣⠘ ⣃⠣⢄⠣⡄⢣⠊⡜⣐⢊⠱⢨⢡⠒⣌⠢⣉⠼⣿⣷⠠⡉⢆⠱⣀⠣⢌⠡⠚⡄⠣⢌⡑⢢⠑⡌⢢⢉⣼⣿⣿⠌⡱⢠⠓⡌⡱⢉⢆⢊⠜⠤⡉⢆⠍⣢⠑⡒⢌⠒ ⢆⠱⢊⠔⠬⣁⠞⡰⢠⡉⢆⢃⠦⡑⠤⢃⡔⢂⢿⣿⡆⠱⡈⢶⣶⣥⣊⢌⠱⣈⠑⣢⣘⣤⠿⢒⠡⣲⣿⣿⠃⡜⢠⢃⡜⢠⡑⢊⡔⢊⠜⢢⢉⠆⡚⢄⠣⠜⣨⠘ ⢎⠢⢅⠚⣐⠢⡘⢄⠣⡘⣐⠊⡔⢡⠊⠥⡘⢄⣺⣿⡧⢃⠜⡠⣾⢿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣟⠫⣉⠤⢃⠎⡰⣿⣿⣇⠜⡠⢃⠦⡘⡰⢨⢡⠘⡌⠜⢢⠡⠚⣄⠣⢊⡱⣀⠣ ⡊⡔⢊⢼⣤⣳⣧⣎⣔⣡⣂⣣⣜⣢⣭⣦⣵⣾⡿⢋⠴⡁⢎⠰⢸⣿⣾⡧⣿⣿⡇⡒⢄⠪⠔⡌⠰⡉⢿⣿⣧⢒⠡⢢⠑⢢⠑⢢⡉⠴⡉⢆⡱⢉⠤⢃⡱⠰⢠⢃ ⠱⡈⣜⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢀⠃⢆⠱⡈⠦⡑⢌⠹⣛⣿⣿⣇⡜⢠⢃⠚⡌⠱⡈⢆⢹⣿⣇⣣⣥⣊⣅⣪⠡⡘⠤⠓⡌⣐⠣⡘⢢⢁⠧⢡⢂ ⢣⠑⡌⢩⠑⣂⠒⡄⡒⢄⡒⡐⢢⠉⣍⣩⣽⣿⣮⣘⣄⢣⡘⣤⣑⣼⣾⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣦⣬⣒⣌⣱⣈⣦⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⢛⠩⡑⢢⢑⠬⡑⢌⠤⢃⠥⢃⡌⢆⠃⢆ ⠣⠜⡠⢃⠚⡄⢣⢘⠰⡈⣔⣥⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠟⡟⢛⢋⣭⣿⣿⡿⠿⢟⣛⣛⣯⣭⣴⣾⣷⣾⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⢇⡘⡰⢊⠌⢆⠣⡘⡄⢋⠤ ⣃⢣⠑⡌⠱⡈⠥⢊⠔⡙⡛⠭⠩⠍⡍⢡⢃⠒⣐⠢⠌⠥⡙⢌⠱⢌⠒⣬⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⠟⣛⠛⡛⡩⣽⣿⣿⣿⣵⣦⡽⠾⠼⡖⢡⠒⡡⠚⡌⢒⠡⠜⡡⠒

DAMN!! That's the most 🍑 GYATT-SLAPPING, 🤯RIZZ-tingling thing I've ever heard! Now can you PLEASE tell me more, because I'm SO HOOKED into this [topic name here]! Most people might say I have an unnerving obsession with it, but I deny it. Like, is it really weird how I'm obsessed with it? There's billions of other people in the world who probably have other weirder interests then mine, ok? If you 🫵🫵🫵 object then you might be one step closer to achieving world destruction like hitler, buddy. Do you really want that? Think about your actions. 🤔🤔🤔

ᴿᵒᵍᵘᵉ ᴮᵒᵗˢ ⁽ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃᶰᶠᶤᶜ⁾ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟔𝟔𝟖 ᴸᶤᵗᵗˡᵉ ᴶᵒʰᶰᶰʸ'ˢ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜᶤᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᶠᵃᶤʳ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ; ᶤᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᶰᵒ ˢᵘʳᵛᶤᵛᵒʳˢˑ ᴸᵉᵃᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᶜʰᵒᵒˡ˒ ᶤᵗ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ʳᵒᵍᵘᵉˑˑ "ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᶤᵗˀ" "ᵂᶤʳᵉˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᶤᵈᵈˡᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗ ᴵ ᵇᵉˡᶤᵉᵛᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᶜᵃᶰ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵒˑˑˑ" "ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵈᵒ ᶤᵗᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶤᶰᵗᵉʳʳᵘᵖᵗˢˑ "ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵉᶰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵒ ᶠᶤᵗᵎ" "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʸᵒᵘ'ᵈˑˑˑ" "ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᴵ'ᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ʲᵘᵐᵖ ᵒᵘᵗ ʷʰᵉᶰᶜᵉ ᴵ ᵈᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᶤʳᵉˢˑ ᴵᵗ'ˢ ᵃ ʳᶤˢᵏ ᴵ'ˡˡ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˑ" ᵁˢᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʰᶤˢ ˢᵗʳᵉᶰᵍᵗʰ ᵃᶰᵈ ᵉᶰᵉʳᵍʸ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗˑ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ᵏᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ ᵒᶰ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶰᵒ ᵃᵛᵃᶤˡˑ ᴺᵒʷ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ˒ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵈᶤᵈ ᶤᵗᵎ" ᵁᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗ ᶜᵒˡˡᵃᵖˢᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵃʷᵃʸ˒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶰᵒ ᵃᵛᵃᶤˡˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵘʳᵗ ʰᶤˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵏᶤᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵇᵒᵗˑ ᵀʰᵉ ᵇᶤᵍ ʳᵒᵇᵒᵗ ᶠᵉˡˡ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵖ ᶤᶰ ᵖᶤᵉᶜᵉˢ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᵃᶰ ᵉˣᵖˡᵒᶤˢᵒᶰ ˢᵒᵘᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍ ᶜʳᵃˢʰ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈˑ "ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈᵎ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵉʸᵉˢ ᶠˡᵘᵗᵗᵉʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢᶤᵗˢ ᵘᵖˑ "ᵂᵃᶤᵗ ᵘᵖ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ'ˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˀ" ᵀʰᵉʸ ʳᵉᵃˡᶤˢᵉᵈ ᶰᵒᶰᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᶰᵒʳ ˢᵉᵉᶰ ʰᶤᵐ ˢᶤᶰᶜᵉˑ "ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘˀ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʷ ᶜʳᵘˢʰᵉᵈ ᵃᶰᵗᵉᶰᶰᵃᵉ ˢᵗᶤᶜᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵘᶰᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵘᵇᵇˡᵉˑ ᴹᵒᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵉᵇʳᶤˢ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵒᵘᶰᵈ ʰᶤᵐˑ "ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰᵎ" ᴮᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʰᵒʷ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᶤᵗ˒ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᶤᶰʲᵘʳᵉᵈ ˡᵉᵍˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ˢᵒ ˡᵘᶜᵏʸ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʳᵉˡᵃᵗᶤᵛᵉˡʸ ᵘᶰˢᶜᵃᵗʰᵉᵈ ʷᶤᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ʳᵉᵐᵃᶤᶰᶤᶰᵍ ʰᵃʳᵐᵉᵈˑ ᵀʰᵉʸ ᵃˡˡ ʷᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶰᵒʷ ᵃˢ ʰᶤˢ ᵈʸᶤᶰᵍ ᶠᵒʳᵐ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵉᶰᵗˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵖᶤᶜᵏˢ ʰᶤᵐ ᵘᵖˑ "ᵂᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵍᵉᶰᵗˡʸ ᵃᵗ ʰᶤˢ ᶜʰᵉᵉᵏ˒ ʰᵒˡᵈᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ᵘᶰᶜᵒᶰˢᶜᶤᵒᵘˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᶤᶰᵍ ᵒʳ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ˒ ʰᶤˢ ᶠᶤᵍᵘʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᶤᵐᵖ ᵃᶰᵈ ˡᶤᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ˒ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵏᵉᵖᵗ ᵇᵉᵍᵍᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵃᶰˢʷᵉʳ ʰᵉʳˑ "ᵀᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ˒ ᶜᵃᶰ ʸᵒᵘ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉˀ" "ᴵˢ ʰᵉ ᵃˡᶤᵛᵉˀ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶜᵒᶰᶠᶤʳᵐᵉᵈ ʰᵉ'ˢ ʷᵉᵃᵏˡʸ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰᶤᶰᵍ ᶰᵒʷˑ "ᵞᵉˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶜᵃᶰᶰᵒᵗ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᶰᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ᵗʷᶤᵗᶜʰˑˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵗᵒˡᵈˑ "ᴬʳᵉ ʷᵉ ᵍᵒᶰᶰᵃ ˡᵒˢᵉ ʰᶤᵐ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ˒ ᵒʳ ᵐᶤᵍʰᵗ ʰᵉ ᵖᵘˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰˀ" ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ᵃˢᵏᵉᵈ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶰᵒᵗ ˡᵒᵒᵏᶤᶰᵍ ᵍᵒᵒᵈˑ "ᴴᵒᶰᵉˢᵗˡʸ ʰᵉ˒ ᴵ ᵈᵒᶰ'ᵗ ᵏᶰᵒʷˑ ᴵ'ᵐ ᶰᵒᵗ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʰᵉ'ˡˡ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᵗᵗᵉʳˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᶤᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉˢˑ "ᵂʰᵃᵗ ᵈᵒ ʷᵉ ᵈᵒ ᶰᵒʷˀ" ᴳᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᶰᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰˑ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ʷʳᵃᵖˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᶤᶰ ᵃ ᵇᵃᶰᵈᵃᵍᵉˑ "ᴴᵉ'ˢ ᵗᵒ ʰᵘʳᵗˑ" ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵃʸˢ˒ ᵘᶰᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵉᵛᵉᶰ ˢˡᶤᵍʰᵗᵉˢᵗ ʳᵉᵃᶜᵗᶤᵒᶰ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˢᶤᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵖᵃʳᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ˢᶤᵈᵉ ᶰᵉᵃʳ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤˢ ᵐᵒᵗᶤᵒᶰˡᵉˢˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸˑ "ᵂᵉ'ʳᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵘᵈ ᵒᶠ ʸᵒᵘˑ ᵞᵒᵘ ᵗᵒᵒᵏ ᵃ ᵇᶤᵍ ʳᶤˢᵏ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸˑ ᴾˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᶰᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖˑ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜʳᶤᵉˢˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵍᵃᵛᵉ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᶰᶤᵍʰᵗ ᵏᶤˢˢᵉˢ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉᶤʳ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵃᵈʲᵃᶜᵉᶰᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰᶤᵐᵖᵉʳˢ ᶤᶰ ʰᶤˢ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ˒ ᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵃʸ'ˢ ᵉᵛᵉᶰᵗˢ ᵃᶰᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ˢᵃᶜʳᶤᶠᶤᶜᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˡᶤᶰᵍᵉʳˢ ᶤᶰ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ᵐᶤᶰᵈˑˑˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᶜʳᶤᵉᵈ ˢᵒᶠᵗˡʸ ʷʰᶤˡˢᵗ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖˑ ᴾᵃᶤᶰˑ ᴰᵘˡˡ ᵖᵃᶤᶰ˒ ᵍᵉᵗᵗᶤᶰᵍ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖᵃʳᵉᶰᵗ ᵃˢ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵍᵃᶤᶰᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ˢᵉᶰˢᵉˢ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˑ ᴴᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵏᶰᵉʷ ᵖᵃᶤᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ʷʰᶤᵐᵖᵉʳᶤᶰᵍˑ ᴳʳᵃᵈᵘᵃˡˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳᶤᵉˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵐᵒʳᵉ ˢʰᵃʳᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵍᵃᶤᶰˑ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ʰᶤˢ ᵉʸᵉˑ ᴴᵉ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᶰ ᵘᵖ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵖᵃᶤᶰ ʳᵘˢʰᶤᶰᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ᶠˡᵒᵒᵈᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤˢ ˢᵉᶰˢᵉˢ˒ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᶠᵃˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶰᵒʷˑ "ᵁʰˑˑ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵇˢᵉʳᵛᵉ ʰᶤˢ ˢᵘʳʳᵒᵘᶰᵈᶤᶰᵍˢˑ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ᶠᶤʳˢᵗ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ˒ ʷʰᵒ ᶜʳᶤᵉᵈ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ʷᶤᵗʰ ʰᶤˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵉˡᵉᵛᵃᵗᵉᵈˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵈᶤˢᵒʳᶤᵉᶰᵗᵉᵈ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵗʳᶤᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵃᶰᵒᵉᵘᵛʳᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ˒ ᵈʳᵃᵍᵍᶤᶰᵍ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇʸ ʰᶤˢ ˢᶤᵈᵉˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᵘᶰˢᵘʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵘᶜʰ˒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶰᵒʷ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ᶤᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ˒ ᶠᵃˡˡᶤᶰᵍ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖˑˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳᶰᶤᶰᵍ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ ᶠᵉˡᵗˑ ᴴᵉ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ˒ ᶰᵒʷ ˢᵉᵉᶤᶰᵍ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈ˒ ᶰᵒᵗᶤᶜᶤᶰᵍ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᶰᵒᵗ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉˑ 'ᴴᵒʷ ᵈᶤᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰˑˑˑ' ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖᵒᶰᵈᵉʳˢ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʷᶤᵍᵍˡᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈˑ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ'ˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᶜᵒˡᵈˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᶤˡˡ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰᶤᵐˑ ᴴᶤˢ ᵐᵒᵘᵗʰ ᵈʳᵒᵖˢ ᵒᵖᵉᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵃᵈʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉᶰᵗ ʰᵘʳᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˡᵉᵍˑ "ᴼᵘᶜʰᵎ" ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵍʳᵃᵇᵇᵉᵈ ʰᶤˢ ˡᵉᵍ ᵃᶰᵈ ʳᵒᵘˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ᶤᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᶜᵉˢˢ˒ ᶰᵒ ˡᵒᶰᵍᵉʳ ᵒᶰ ʰᶤˢ ʰᵃᶰᵈˑ "ᴳᵃʰᵎ" ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʳᵒˡˡˢ ᵒᵛᵉʳˑ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ʳᵉᵃᶜʰᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʷʰᵒ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᶤᵐ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᶤᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ᵗᵒˑ ᴷᵃʳᵉᶰ ᵃᶰᵈ ˢᵃᶰᵈʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵃᶰᵈ ᶰᵉˣᵗ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃᶰᵏᵗᵒᶰ ʳᵘᵇᵇᶤᶰᵍ ˢᵖᵒᶰᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ'ˢ ˡᵉᵍˑˑ

Plankton's Hardest Lesson by AndyIsConfused As Spongebob fell to the Krusty Krab floor, Plankton knew he'd gone too far. Many of his schemes before were tricking the sponge into trusting him, but never had he caused physical harm to. Plankton felt his heart sink and tears fill his eye as Spongebob spoke, "But… We were supposed to be… friends forever…" He said before his legs gave in and he landed on his side. All at once, Sheldon was hit with memories. Memories of times the optimistic Sponge had been kind and friendly with him, despite all his schemes. Hugs, cookies, smiles, even being lifted higher to see what was happening. All the times Plankton was greeted happily, despite how the entire town treated him in contrast. And all the times Spongebob has swallowed his food, smiling pretending to enjoy it, even if it was a lie. No. This wasn't what he wanted. He wanted a popular restaurant, to be respected, revenge on Krabs. But Spongebob hadn't done anything wrong, he wasn't his target. He felt sick to his stomach as he heard a cry from a familiar friend of the delightful sponge, Patrick, had come to visit his friend, only to see him on the floor, and could only freeze as he watched the events unfold, Patrick running to Spongebob. He was sure that the star was screaming, but Plankton couldn't focus, only the way it sounded, shaking him to his very core. That sound… the pain in his cry. It was horrific. He never heard anything like it. Squidward ran in, followed by Mr. Krabs, Squidward frantically calling an ambulance as Eugene picked plankton up. "Krabs, I can explain! I never meant-... I didn't know he was-" "I see what you're willing to lose for your revenge, now." Eugene's voice was monotone as he popped Sheldon into a glass bottle. Patrick fell to his hands and knees, shaking and crying. After collecting themselves as best as they could, they all walked to the hospital. Plankton being forced to confront what he'd done by Eugene Krabs, himself. In a glass bottle on a lamp table in a hospital waiting room. He looked around before he glanced up to see his nemesis glaring daggers into him, "So… uh… Pretty cloudy today, huh, Krabs?" "I want you to explain yourself. Revenge against me didn't need to involve the kid." He knocked the bottle to its side, making Sheldon fall over with it. Sheldon sighed, "My intention wasn't ever to hurt the boy, Krabs. He's a dumb little angel. My intention was to… I-... I was trying to break into your safe and he got in the way. I panicked! That little idiot was gonna call the cops again and I just wanted him to stop, forever!" He realized what he'd said as he said it. What in this blue ocean had he become? When did the life of a young adult become less of a priority than his revenge? He ran his hands along his antennae, "I… never wanted to hurt that sweet idiot, Krabs…" "You're so full of it!" Sandy, trudging over to Plankton, lifting his container to her face so she could look him in the eye, "You got caught and your first instinct is to hurt the nicest creature in the ocean? After all the love he gives you?" She was tearing up, "Spongebob had plans for your birthday! He has your christmas gifts for the next six years in his closet the same as everyone else in Bikini Bottom!" She turned to the nearest wall and brought her arm back. Plankton knew he was about to be thrown, but a tentacle on her wrist stopped her from throwing. "Sandy… What would he say if he could see you, right now?" Squidward's voice was calm, but also tight, like it was stuck in his throat so he wouldn't cry. "When's Spongebob coming out?" Asked the pink starfish, "We… We have to see Mermaid Man tonight. He promised." He looked to squidward who sighed and sat next to him, patting his back, wordlessly. Patrick curled his legs into his chair to hug them before burying his face, "I miss Spongebob!" He cried as his two friends did their best to comfort him. Plankton stayed seated in his confinement, this time, looking to Mr. Krabs, "I… Don't know how to fix this, Krabs." Eugene looked at him with a shocked expression, "Fix? You can't fix this… But you can stay here and watch how much this action of yours hurts the folks around him. Feel bad. Be ashamed. Maybe then I'll know you're not a complete monster." Plankton nodded before looking away from everyone. He… wanted to apologize to spongebob. But he wasn't sure if he'd ever get the chance. Plankton felt sick. His stomach flipped and turned before he remembered, something, "Hey… Psst! Hey, Squid! HEY!" Squidward lifted his head from Patrick's shoulder, wiping drool from the Starfish's mouth and making a disgusted face as he ran his tentacle along the back of a nearby lamp. He turned to Plankton, "What?" He whispered with a hiss, "If you wake this pink idiot, I'm shaking you until you stop moving!" Hostility. Fair, given what Plankton had done to Spongebob. "Uh… The sponge. He has a pet, right?" Plankton cleared his throat and gulped, "I don't remember what it is, but I know he has one. He's constantly gushing about it." "Gary, a snail." Squidward sighed and lifted the bottle to eye level, "Why do you care?" Plankton was a little stumped at the question, "I… Um… I don't kn-" "Yes, you do!" Squid interrupted, "Just spit it out." "Fine!...." Sheldon rubbed his face and groaned, "The kid… He's a good guy. He never hurts anyone. Maybe he's misunderstandings, but… He's good… And I made some stupid robot… do what it did. And I didn't even understand what I meant when I said destroy until I saw… It lasted too long and then he… was on the floor…" Plankton covered his mouth, his body was quivering. He took a deep breath before he touched his cheek. When… When had he started crying? "So it really was just an accident." Squid seemed to be less shocked about this than he should be, "Because I'll rip off your antennae, squish you until my leg is tired, and Spongebob is the only bright part of my life. That little idiot is my sunshine. Do you understand?" Plankton nodded at this before Squidward placed him back on the table. He watched him lay his head back, cross his arms, and go back to sleep. He felt strange that he was less worried about his own demise and more worried about the kid. He hoped Spongebob survived… He hoped he could apologize, to be there during his recovery to take care of him… Only Spongebob would have enough heart to give him another chance. He didn't deserve one. He knew that, but… Spongebob deserves a long life, only ending in old age. Plankton needed to stay awake until the doctor returned with news. Sheldon wasn't sure when it was that he finally fell asleep like the others, but his dream was riddled with guilt. He wasn't replaying the event over and over. That wasn't really how dreams even worked. No. It had himself and Spongebob, but that was about the only similarity to real life. He seemed to be running to the boy, in his nightmare. Attempting to catch up to him and stop him. The young man was over the edge of a cliff and looking down. He tried to scream to catch his attention, but not only was he too far and not gaining any momentum, he was too small for the young man to even hear. This seemed like a hopeless scenario. It only ended when the dream Spongebob turned to face Plankton. "Wake up." Said the voice. But… it didn't belong to Spongebob. That sounded like… Krabs? He awoke with a start, heart pounding in his chest and hands shaking, "Wh-What's going on." He asked before he noticed the man in the white coat and stethoscope, "Oh... " There were only two possible answers to expect, "Is he-...?" "He's alive. He should make a full recovery." Interrupted the deep voiced man. Plankton sighed with relief, "However… None of this is going to be cheap." For the first time since knowing the red crab, Plankton was shocked at what his nemesis said next, "Talk to me about the money issues. The boy ain't got enough to survive on, much less afford medical care." Sheldon blinked his eye in disbelief, "You… You're serious? No! No way! This is my fault, I should-" "You have a failing business, Plankton." Eugene interrupted, "You ain't gonna afford squat." "I'll sell machines. Devices!" Sheldon insisted, standing in his bottle, "I can't do nothing! I did this!" His volume rose, voice cracking. Eugene sighed, "Fine… Fine. You can help if the kid doesn't press charges." Sandy cleared her throat, "He won't. We all know that." The group nodded. Spongebob was far too kind. Mr. Krabs pulled back the curtain to reveal a very pale Spongebob. Plankton felt his gut twist again, "The Squid stole your house keys, Squarepants." Plankton said before really even realizing he was speaking. A very soft and raspy laugh escaped the sponge, "I gave them to him. He's going to take Gary to his house until I'm better again." That smile. Even after all this, the kid was smiling. How can he be so optimistic? He watched the sponge look to Krabs, "Hi, Mr. Krabs. S-Sorry I can't work for a bit." It was at those words when the stoic crab began to lose his composure, Krabs sat on the bed, "Don't be blaming yourself, you hear? Just focus on being my frycook, again… okay?" His voice wavered as he gently touched the boy's shoulder. "Okay, Mr. Krabs. I'll do my best." He promised. "I know you will, lad. I know." Eugene said as he stood back up, setting Plankton down on Spongebob's bedside table. Cartoons » SpongeBob SquarePants English, Angst & Drama, Words: 2k+ Sep 27 2020

r/shortscarystories 8 yr. ago NoT_So_GooD_aT_THiS The Unborn ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ It was a big day for her, she was now 16. Her parents had been helping her plan a party for months and she was more than ready. Her friends all arrived and the party began. As everyone was having a good time she was taking pictures to remember this special day. The night continued and the number of pictures that she had taken went up. By the end of the night she had taken over 500. Her friends started to leave but she couldn't wipe the smile off of her face, tonight had been perfect. She was exhausted as she walked up the stairs to her room after seeing all her friends out and hugging her parents goodnight. As she walked into her room she got a chill, it felt like someone was in her room watching her but obviously no one was there. She figured it was the excitement of the day getting to her so she changed into her night clothes and climbed into bed. That night she had a dream. She dreamt that she was in a room. The room was dark and small. She looked over and saw someone else in the room with her, it was a baby. The baby still had its umbilical cord but it seemed to be attached to the ceiling somewhere but she couldn't see well in this dark room. Then there was a door, it seemed to be opening slowly. She knew she had to get out and she was worried that the baby was going to try and get out before her and trap her in, so she hurried and wrapped the cord around the babies neck and ran out of the room. She suddenly woke up on a cold sweat. What the heck was that?! She didn't dream often, and she had never dreamt about killing a baby, that was horrible. She tried to relax remembering that it was just a dream and you can't control them. She fell back asleep and did not dream anymore for the rest of the night. She woke up the next morning feeling restless and anxious. She walked down stairs to see her mother sitting at the table eating breakfast. She made herself a plate and sat down next to her mom. That day they had planned on going through all the birthday pictures to find the ones they wanted to make into a scrap book. She started scrolling through the pictures and adding the ones she liked into a separate folder to be printed. She came across a picture that was odd. In the picture was a baby, oddly it looked like the baby from her dream the night before. Maybe that is why she had dreamed about a baby, maybe she had seen it without realizing. She showed her mom the picture and asked her if she knew who the baby belonged to. Her mom stopped and stared at the picture. A confused look came over her face. That baby looks a lot like you when you were a newborn her mom told her. Neither of them could figure out who that baby might belong to. They stopped for a while to have a snack and she asked her mom what she was like as a baby. Her mom told her that she was quiet and that they always thought that it could be because she was lonely. Then her mom stopped and looked at her, she looked nervous. We should have told you this a long time ago, you deserve to know. Her mom took a deep breath before looking her in the eyes, you were supposed to be a twin, she said in a quiet voice. Your sisters umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck and she died in the womb. Suddenly as her mom told her this she felt like she could not breath, as if something was wrapped around her neck stopping all air from passing through to her lungs.

r/confessions 4 yr. ago guppy_gills My mother tried to abort me when I was in her belly and I remember it I remember the dark place inside of my mother. Then I remember a machine coming to get me. I moved away from it and fought it off. Eventually it went away. Years later my mother admitted that she tried to have an abortion but it didn't take. I told her how I remembered and she cried and said she was sorry. I forgave her but when I remember that moment I sometimes feel traumatized still

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

Open menu Log In Expand search Expand user menu Back Go to shortscarystories r/shortscarystories 1 yr. ago Bleerb ᴍᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴs ᴏғ ᴘʀᴇɢɴᴀɴᴄʏ, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ My beautiful little girl A beautiful little girl from the moment I first saw her. Her brown eyes framed by thick dark hair. Her fair skın in stark contrast to it. I had waited long for this girl. I kissed her soft forehead and rocked her in my arms as I sang her the songs my mother would sing to me. I was soon sent home, she needed to stay a little longer, but they convinced me to make everything ready for her to come also. My husband barely helped. He was very cøld towards her; I know he'd rather have a boy, but he couldn’t ignore her! Two days after bırth a doctor came and asked if we were ready for her to come home. I confirmed as quickly as I could, I had not thought of anything else but holding my girl. The doctor advised me not to take her outside and other standard newвorn stuff, I know all of that already. The next day I watched as my husband came up our driveway. I ran downstairs so I could welcome our daughter. My husband reuttered what the doctor said. I said I'd listen. He had to go back to work the next day. It was a wonderful day for mid-April. It was sunny out. I figured I could take my baby to the store just around the corner. She wouldn't be out long. How much harm could that do? As I entered the store people would curiously look into the stroller. I had been warned about this. “They all wanna see her. It is uncomfortable at first but be proud! You made that!” I was proud, They're right! I could hear the people whispering about her and smiling at me as I walked by. At first, I thought they loved her as much as I did. After only three more days of showing her off, I was kicked out of my first establishment. I wanted to feed my child since she seemed to be fussy. I could see she was hungry by her face, she didn’t even have to cry. I hadn't even started when the manager came up to me and told me that people were uncomfortable, I had to leave. I'm outraged! This happened again, I thought my town was more open-minded then that! When I returned home, I found the polıce waiting for me. They told me they had to take me and my daughter to the bureau, my husband was already there waiting for us. I figured he had done something st̴up̕id. They wanted to talk to him alone after I had spoken about what happened that day. I was sent back to the waiting room and held my baby close. She slept in my arms, and I could barely make out what they were talking about. Something about being stillborn, and postpartum dépression, delusions. I didn’t mind as long as I had my daughter.

⡛⠋⠙⠋⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣶⣶⣶⣶⠶⠶⢶⣤⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣤⣤⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡁⠀⠀⠠⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠿⣶⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⠟⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠛⢷⣦⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠇⠀⠀⠀⢠⣶⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⢠⣾⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⣠⡿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⢿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⣰⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠻⣷⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣼⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣷⣦⡄⣀⡀⠀⠀⣀⣀⠀⣤⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⢀⢀⡀⠀⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⡿⢡⣿⢿⣶⢸⣿⡿⢃⣿⡉⢹⣿⠁⢀⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⠛⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣇⢠⣿⡅⠸⡿⠇⢸⣿⠆⠀⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⠆⣿⡷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡄⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠘⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣧⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣤⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡏⠂⠀⠀⢨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡞⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⢰⣶⣤⣤⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀⣾⡇⠀⢠⣤⣴⣤⣤⣤⣤⠀⣤⣤⣤⡀⣿⡅⣤⣤⣤⣼⣿⣤⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⣸⡇⢸⣿⢸⣿⠘⣿⣼⡏⠀⠀⢸⣿⠉⢨⣿⣿⣿⠀⣿⣿⡏⠁⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⢹⣿⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⠀⠀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠆⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢠⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠻⠃⠸⠿⠸⠿⠀⣼⡟⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⠀⠸⠿⠟⠛⠀⠛⠛⠿⠀⠿⠈⠿⠿⠿⠘⠟⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⣀⣬⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢻⣧⡹⣿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠉⣁⣠⣤⣴⡆⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⣹⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣴⡾⠟⠋⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠟⠀⠛⣣⣤⣤⣴⣶⣾⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠉⠀⢠⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣧⠀⠀⠀⢸⡇⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠄⠀⠀⣤⣤⣴⠾⠿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡄⣾⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣶⣶⣶⡆⢰⣶⢶⣦⣰⣶⣶⣶⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⡦⠀⠀⢸⡇⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⢀⣉⣁⣠⣤⣴⣶⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢨⣿⣿⣿⣇⢸⣿⣾⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡟⠃⠀⠀⢸⣷⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⢸⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠟⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠉⠉⠁⢸⣿⡏⠁⣿⣯⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢿⣷⣤⣀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠆⢀⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⣿⡟⠛⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠁⠀⣈⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⠙⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣇⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠛⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠸⠿⠟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣥⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣀⡀⢀⣀⣀⡀⣀⣀⣀⠀⢠⣿⢀⣄⣀⣀⡛⠛⢛⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣄⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⡇⢸⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⡁⢸⣿⢸⣿⠙⣿⣇⣠⣿⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⠿⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⣿⣿⡇⠺⣿⣿⡁⠿⠿⠿⠇⠸⠿⠾⠿⠀⠿⢿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣷⡸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠾⠿⠛⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠻⣧⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣤⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⠻⢶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⡀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⠉⠉⠿⠷⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣠⣬⣿⣿⠿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠛⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣟⣽⡿⡋⠀⢰⡿⠋⣼⡿⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠛⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⣿⢻⣷⠀⢰⣿⠃⣠⡿⠁⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣷⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣴⣟⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⣄⡀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠀⢿⡏⣿⣶⢸⣿⢢⡿⠃⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠘⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠙⠿⣯⣛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⡀⠁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣦⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠈⢻⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⡿⠃⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠈⠛⢛⣛⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⠟⠁⢹⣷⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣰⡿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⡀⠀⠹⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⠟⠁⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡃⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⠈⢻⣶⡀⢀⣤⡾⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⣦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣠⣶⠿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠉⢹⣷⠀⠀⣀⣹⣿⣿⡋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⢷⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣴⡾⠟⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⠶⠟⠛⠛⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢻⣆⠀⣿⣿⣄⠘⢿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠛⠻⠿⠶⠶⠶⠶⠿⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣤⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣿⡄⣿⣿⣻⣷⣾⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢻⣧⣼⣿⣿⣭⣿⣾⢿⣦⡀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⠛⠋⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⢹⣏⠉⣿⣿⠉⣿⣷⣄⠀⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⠈⣿⣷⣿⣿⢸⡟⢸⣿⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣶⣶⣿⣶⣷⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣾⣷⣾⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

ᴮᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᶠᵒʳ ᴺᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʳⁱᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵀᵉˣᵃˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᶜᵃˡˡᵉᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʷʰᵒ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵖⁱᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ‧ ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᶠᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉʳˢᵉˡᶠ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᴮᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵃ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵐⁱˢʰᵃᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ʷⁱʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ ᵃⁿʸ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖˢ ᵒʳ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ᵒᶠ ʳᵉᵛⁱᵛᵃˡ‧ ᔆᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳˢ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ⁱⁿ‧ "ᴵ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ⁱᶠ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗʳᵃⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʰᵉᵃᵖ‧ "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵒᵇˡⁱᵗᵉʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ!" ʸᵉˡˡᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ⸴ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵉᵃʳᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒᶠ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᵍᵃˡ ᵖᵃˡ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉⁿᵗⁱʳᵉˡʸ ᵈᵉˢᵗʳᵒʸᵉᵈ‧ "ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵒⁿᵉ ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵉᵗ‧‧‧" "ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ⸴ ᴵ'ᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ'ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ; ˢʰᵉ'ˢ ᵃˡˢᵒ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ‧‧" ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵒʷ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵍᵒᵗᵗᵉⁿ‧ "ᴴᵒʷ ᶜᵃⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ⸴ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ!" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵃⁿᵍʳⁱˡʸ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵒ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ 'ᵉᵐ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵒⁿˡʸ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ˢⁱᵍʰ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ⁿᵉᶜᵉˢˢᵃʳⁱˡʸ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᵒᶠ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢᵒ ᵇᵃᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ'ˢ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵃ ˢᵗᵃᵗᵉ‧ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᵒᶠ ⁱᵗ⸴ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ'ˢ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁿᵒ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵇʸ ʰⁱˢ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ⸴ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉ⸴ ᵇᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶜˡᵒˢᵉˢᵗ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ᵃⁿʸ ᵈᵃʸ⸴ ˡᵉᵗ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵉᵐᵒᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉᵈ ᶠᵒʳ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᶠᵒʳᵗ⸴ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ⁿᵒʷ⸴ ʰⁱˢ ʷⁱᶠᵉ'ˢ ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵒʳ ᵍʳⁱᵉᶠ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵃⁿᵗᵉᵈ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ʰᵉˡᵖ‧ ᔆᵒ ⁿᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱⁿᵈᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵉᵗ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ⁿᵉʷ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳᵒⁿᵗ ᵖᵒʳᶜʰ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵘʳⁱᵃˡ ᶠᵒʳ ʳᵉˢᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵃᶜᵉ ˢᵒ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇʸ ʷʰᵉⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ⸴ ᵏⁿᵒʷⁱⁿᵍ ˢʰᵉ'ᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᵍᵒᵗ‧ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ᵗᵉˣᵗᵉᵈ 'ᶜʰᵉᶜᵏ ᵒⁿ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʰᵉ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ' ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ᵃˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵇʸ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᵃ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳⁱᵃˡ ᵐᵃʳᵏᵉʳ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠˡᵒʷᵉʳˢ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ˢᵃⁿᵈʸ‧ "ᴾᵒᵒʳ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ‧‧" ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱⁿ ˡⁱᵛⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵃᶠᵗᵉʳ ᵉˣʰᵃᵘˢᵗᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ʰⁱˢ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ "ᴴⁱ⸴ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ᵈᵉᶠᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ˢⁱᵍʰ ᵃˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉˡᵗ‧ "ᴴᵉʸ⸴ ᵏⁱᵈ‧" "ᴵ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵃʷ ʰᵉʳ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵒᶠᶠ‧ ᴵ'ᵐ ᵗⁱʳᵉᵈ⸴ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈᵒⁿ'ᵗ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷⁱˡˡ ᵗᵒ ˡⁱˢᵗᵉⁿ‧‧‧" "ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ; ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵉᵉᵈᵉᵈ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ⁱᵗ ᵃˡˡ ᵒᵘᵗ‧" "ᔆᵃⁿᵈʸ'ˢ ᵃ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ⸴ ˢᵒ ⁿᵒʷ‧‧‧" "ᔆʰᵉ ⁱˢ ᵃʷᵃʳᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰᵒʷ ᵈʳᵃⁱⁿⁱⁿᵍ ⁱᵗ ⁱˢ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵉᵃˡ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵍʳⁱᵉᶠ‧" ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒᵈᵈᵉᵈ‧

ᴳⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵂᵒʳᵈˢ ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵃᵗ ᵗⁱᵐᵉˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉ ᵇᵒᵇ ᶠᵒʳ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉˡᵖ, ᵈᵉˢᵖⁱᵗᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘˢⁱⁿᵉˢˢ ʳⁱᵛᵃˡˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢʰᵒʷⁿ ᵏⁱⁿᵈⁿᵉˢˢ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡˡ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰⁱᵐ ᵈᵘʳⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒʳᵏ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵏᵉᵉᵖ ʷᵃᵗᶜʰ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁱᶠ ᵇᵒʳᵉᵈ ᴹʳ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ!” ᴹʳ‧ ᴷʳᵃᵇˢ ˢᵃʸˢ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵒʳᵉᵈ ᶜᵃˢʰⁱᵉʳ‧ “ᴮᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ!” ᴴᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ “ᴮᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ʷᵒʳᵗʰ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵖᵉⁿᵈ! ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ʷᵉ ᵃˡˡ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ᵃᵐᵒᵘⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ˡⁱᶠᵉ! ᴴᵒⁿᵉˢᵗˡʸ ⁿᵒ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ ʷⁱˡˡ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ʰⁱᵐ; ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ʰᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵍʳᵃᵐᵐᵉᵈ! ᴵ ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵇˡᵃᵐᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ʷʰᵒ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵃˡⁱᵛᵉ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵃⁿ ᵉᵃʳˡʸ ʳⁱˢᵉʳ ⁿᵒʳ ᵃ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵒʷˡ, ᵃˢ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵘᵖ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ ᵗʰᵃⁿ‧ ᔆᵒ ˢʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘʳᵖʳⁱˢᵉᵈ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʳᵘⁿ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ⁿᵒᵒⁿ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ᵉᵃˢⁱˡʸ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ʳⁱᵍʰᵗ, ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ᵍʳᵉᵉᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ‧ ᴴᵉ ʳᵘⁿˢ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵇᵉᵈ ʳᵒᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉʸ ˢʰᵃʳᵉ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ…” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ˢˡᵃᵐˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵃˢ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᶜᵃⁿ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵘᵗ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ‧ “ᔆʰᵉˡᵈᵒⁿ ᴶ…” “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵖ, ᵃⁿᵈ ˡᵉᵃᵛᵉ ᵐᵉ ᵃˡᵒⁿᵉ!” “ᴮᵘᵗ ᵈᵒ…” “ᴵ’ᵐ ᵗᵉˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ᵐᵉ ᵇᵉ, ⁿᵒʷ ᵍᵒ ᵃʷᵃʸ!” ᴴᵉ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ “ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵍⁱᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵖʳⁱᵛᵃᶜʸ‧‧” ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᵈᵒᵒʳ ᵍᵉⁿᵗˡʸ ˢʰᵘᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ˢʰᵉ ᵇᵃᶜᵏˢ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ’ˢ ⁿᵒʷ ᵐᵘᶠᶠˡᵉᵈ ᶜʳʸⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᑫᵘᵉᵉᶻᵉˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵈᵉᵉᵖˡʸ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵐᵉᵃⁿˢ ʷᵉˡˡ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ’ˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵐⁱⁿᵈ, ᵒᶜᶜᵘᵖⁱᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ʷᵒʳᵈˢ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗʰᵉʸ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ʳᵃⁱˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉˢ, ˢʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʸᵉˡˡ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵃʸ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ⁱⁿᵗʳᵘᵈⁱⁿᵍ, ˢʰᵉ’ᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ʷʰᵉⁿ ˢʰᵉ ᵖᵃˢˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʸᵉᵈ ᵃˡˡ ᵈᵃʸ ʷⁱᵗʰᵒᵘᵗ ˡᵉᵃᵛⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵍᵒⁿⁿᵃ ˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉʳ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ ⁱⁿ ʰᵉʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴱᵛᵉʳ ᶜᵃᵘᵗⁱᵒᵘˢˡʸ, ˢʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵉˢ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵒᵒᵐ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵈᵃᵐᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ ᶜᵃʳᵉᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵒᵃᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉˢ ʰᵉ’ᵈ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ, ˢⁿᵒʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵃˢˡᵉᵉᵖ‧ ‘ᴼʰ’ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖᵘᵗˢ ᵇᵉᵈ ᵇˡᵃⁿᵏᵉᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵗᵒ ᶜᵒᵛᵉʳˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳˢ‧ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢⁱᵍʰᵉᵈ, ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉʳ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᴺᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒʳⁿⁱⁿᵍ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵉᵈ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵃʷᵃᵏᵉ, ˢⁱⁿᶜᵉ ʰᵉ ˢⁿᵒʳᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗ ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒʷ‧ “ʸᵒᵘ ᵘᵖ?” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵒʷ ᶠᵃᶜᵉᵈ ʰᵉʳ‧ “ᴵ ᵒⁿˡʸ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢˡᵉᵉᵖ, ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ…” “…ᶠⁱⁿᵉ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧ “ᴬⁿʸ ᵖˡᵃⁿˢ?” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃˢᵏˢ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ ‘ᴳʳᵉᵃᵗ’ ˢʰᵉ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ‧ “ᴺᵒ, ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧‧” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ…” “ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵗʳʸ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ‧‧” ᶠʳᵘˢᵗʳᵃᵗᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵒᵖᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ˢʰⁱᶠᵗ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʷᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵒʳᵏ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ “ᵂᵃᵗᶜʰⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵗⁱʳⁱⁿᵍ!” “ᵂᵉˡˡ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʰᵒʷ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ᴵ ᶠᵉᵉˡ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶠᵒˡˡᵒʷˢ ᵐᵉ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ˡᵒˢᵗ ᵖᵒᵒᵈˡᵉ?” “ᴮᵘᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷʰʸ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ, ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʳᵉˢᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵘˢ?” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʰᵉ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉˢ ʷᵒʳˢᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵉᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᵒⁿ ʰⁱᵐ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐˢ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᶜʰⁱˡᵈ’ˢ ᵖˡᵃʸ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ! ᴬⁿᵈ ʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵐᵃᵗᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ‧ ᴬⁿᵈ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ʷⁱˡˡ!” ᴬⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵒᵘᵍʰᵗ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ’ˢ ᵇᵃᵈ ᵉⁿᵒᵘᵍʰ! ‘ᴵ ᵐᵉᵃⁿᵗ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧’ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ˢʰᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ‧ ᴮᵒᵗʰ ᵉᵐᵖˡᵒʸᵉᵉˢ ʷᵉⁿᵗ ⁱⁿ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉⁱʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵈᵃʸ ʲᵒᵇˢ, ˢᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵈᵉᶜⁱᵈᵉˢ ᵗᵒ ˢⁿᵉᵃᵏ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵏⁱᵗᶜʰᵉⁿ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ’ˢ‧ “ᴷʳᵃᵇᵇʸ ᴾᵃᵗᵗⁱᵉˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳⁱˡˡ‧‧” ˢⁱⁿᵍˢ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ, ʰᵃᵖᵖⁱˡʸ ᵃˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳ‧ ᴸⁱᵏᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉˢ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵉᵃᵈ ˡᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵃ ˢᵒᵇ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵘʳⁿˢ, ʰᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʳʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵇᵃʷˡⁱⁿᵍ‧ ᵂʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ᵈⁱᵈⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵒⁿˡʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ˢᑫᵘⁱᵈ ʷᵃʳᵈ ᵒᶠᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵃˢᵉ‧ ‘ᴰⁱᵈ ʰᵉ ʰᵉᵃʳ ᵐᵉ?’ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰʸ…” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ˢᵖᵉᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵈⁱˢˡⁱᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ᴵ ᶜᵃⁿ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵖ ˡᵒʷ‧ ᴮᵘᵗ ʰᵒʷ ᶜᵃⁿ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗˢ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧ ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴼᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ! “ “ᴵ’ˡˡ ˢᵉᵉ ᵐʸ ˢᵉˡᶠ ᵒᵘᵗ!” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʸᵉˡˡ ᵗʰʳᵒᵘᵍʰ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ‧ “ᴺᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵖʳᵉᵗᵉⁿᵈ, ⁿᵒ ⁿᵉᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ˢᵗᵉᵖ ᵒⁿ ᵐᵉ!” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵗᵒʳᵐˢ ᵒᵘᵗ, ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ‧ ‘ᴴᵉ ᵏⁿᵒʷˢ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᴵ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧‧’ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢᵉᵈ, ᶠᵉᵉˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵃʷᶠᵘˡ‧ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ʷᵒʳᵏ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶠʳᵃⁿᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ˡᵒᵒᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᶠᵒʳ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ‧ “ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈᵒ ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵉʳᵉ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ?” “ᴵ…” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ ʸᵉˢᵗᵉʳᵈᵃʸ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ, ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗᵒᵖᵖⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᶜʳⁱᵉˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ ʰᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡᵉᶠᵗ‧ ᴴᵉ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ˢᵗᵃʸˢ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ˡᵒⁿᵍ, ᵃⁿᵈ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ʰⁱᵐ!” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵖˡᵉᵃᵈᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷʰᵃᵗ ᵘᵖˢᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ’ᵐ ʷᵒʳʳⁱᵉᵈ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵏⁿᵉʷ ʰᵉ ᵐᵘˢᵗ’ᵛᵉ ʳᵃⁿ ᵃʷᵃʸ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ᵒᶠ ʷʰᵃᵗ ʰᵉ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵉᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶠⁱⁿᵈ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧‧ “ᔆᶜᵃʳᵉᵈ, ᵖⁱᵖˢᑫᵘᵉᵃᵏ?” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʷʰⁱᵐᵖᵉʳᵉᵈ, ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵉⁿᵈᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ ⁱⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ʷʳᵒⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡᵉʸ‧ “ᴵ…” “ᑫᵘⁱᵉᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ˡⁱᵗᵗˡᵉ ᵇᵃᵇʸ! ᴬʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒˢᵗ? ᵂᵉˡˡ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ʰᵒᵖᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ˡᵒᵛᵉᵈ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ ᵇʸᵉ ᵇᵉᶜᵃᵘˢᵉ ʷᵉ’ˡˡ ᵉⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ‧ ᴳᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃ ˢᶜʳᵉᵃᵐ… “…ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ!” ᴴᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉᵈ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ʰᵉˡᵖˡᵉˢˢ‧ “ᶠⁱⁿⁱˢʰ ʰⁱᵐ‧‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳˢ‧ “ᴺᵒ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ, ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉᵐ ʰᵘʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ᵘⁿᵃᵇˡᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵐᵒʳᵉ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ʰⁱᵐˢᵉˡᶠ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵗᵒ ˢᵒʳᵉⁿᵉˢˢ‧ ‘ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ⁿᵒʷ…’ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ’ˢ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ ᵖʳᵒᵐᵖᵗᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵒᵖᵉⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ‧ “ᴴⁱ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧” ᴴᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ʳᵉᶜᵒᵍⁿⁱˢᵉˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧ “ᵀʰᵉ ᵍᵃⁿᵍ ʷⁱˡˡ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵇʳⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵃʳᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ, ᵗʰᵃⁿᵏˢ ᵗᵒ ᵐʸ ᵏᵃʳᵃᵗᵉ!” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉˢ, ᵇᵘᵗ ⁿᵒᵗⁱᶜᵉˢ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ˢᶜᵒᵒᵗ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ “ᴸᵒᵒᵏ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ᔆᑫᵘⁱᵈʷᵃʳᵈ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇᵒᵗʰᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵐᵉ ʷʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵃⁱⁿᵉᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ’ˢ ᵐʸ ᶠᵃᵘˡᵗ‧ ᴵ ᵃᵐ ˢᵒ ˢᵒʳʳʸ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ⁱⁿᵉˣᶜᵘˢᵃᵇˡᵉ ʷʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵇᵉᵉⁿ ˢᵃⁱᵈ‧” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢⁱᵍʰˢ‧ “ᵀʳᵘᵗʰ ᵇᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ᴵ ˢᵉᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃˢ ᵃ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ‧ ᴱᵛᵉⁿ ⁱᶠ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵖᵉᵒᵖˡᵉ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᴵ ˡᵒᵛᵉ ᵇᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʸᵒᵘ, ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ᵃˡˡ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶜˡᵉᵛᵉʳ ⁱⁿᵛᵉⁿᵗⁱᵒⁿˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ˢᶜʰᵉᵐᵉˢ!” ᴴᵉ ʰᵉˡᵈ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵃⁿᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧ “ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᵈᵉˢᵉʳᵛᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᶠᵒʳᵍⁱᵛᵉⁿᵉˢˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵃᵗ ˡᵉᵃˢᵗ ᶜᵃⁿ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‽” ᔆʰᵉ ᵉˣᶜˡᵃⁱᵐˢ‧ “ᴴⁱ, ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ‧‧” “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ⁿᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵈᵒ ˢᵘᶜʰ ᶠᵒᵒˡⁱˢʰⁿᵉˢˢ ᵉᵛᵉʳ ᵃᵍᵃⁱⁿ!” ᔆʰᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᶜʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐⁱᵍʰᵗ ᵇᵉ ᵒᵛᵉʳʷʰᵉˡᵐᵉᵈ‧‧” “ᴵ’ᵐ ᶠⁱⁿᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵉᵃⁿ ⁱᵗ?” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵒᵒᵏᵉᵈ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᶠʳʸ ᶜᵒᵒᵏ ʷʰᵒ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉᵈ ᵃᵗ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ʸᵉˢ‧‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵐⁱˡᵉˢ‧ “ᴬˡˡ’ˢ ᵍᵒᵒᵈ‧‧” ✧ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 𝟗𝟖𝟗

to give a little Background Info, i Love watching YouTube Shorts. i Binge watch them all day. on everage, i Spend about 8 hours DAILY watching Shorts, its my guilty pleasure. No one knows about this, as i keep it a good Secret. one day, when i was meant to be at school, i was watching some Shorts, my Mom came in and she was shocked, so i Hid my Phone under my pillow, and told her to leave since i was having a WANKY. i got away With it, but the next day i was around my girlfriends House, i was watching Shorts the whole time and i was so sneaky, she didn't notice. she was trying to make advances at me and Put her Hand on my thigh, i didnt Thing much of it and keept scrolling, after a while she noticed i was watching YouTube Shorts, when i was watching "skibidi toilet 66 - Fan Made" and suddenly my phones valume when Up to the Maximum and she Put her Hand Off my thigh and screamed "ARE YOU WATCHING SKIBIDI TOILET?!". im currently sitting on her porch pooking my eyes Out. im Not Sure If i'll ever be able to Recover from this, but atleast i have skibidi toilet.😭😭😭😭😭😭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ -ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

ᴳᵉᵗ ᵂᵉˡˡ 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 𝟻𝟶𝟶 ⁽ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᴮᵒᵇ ᶠᵃⁿᶠⁱᶜ⁾ ᴬᶠᵗᵉʳ ᶜˡᵒˢⁱⁿᵍ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᴷʳᵘˢᵗʸ ᴷʳᵃᵇ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍᵒⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉʷ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵇʸ‧ ᴺᵒʷ ˢᵘᵈᵈᵉⁿˡʸ, ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʷ ʰⁱᵐ ˢˡⁱᵖ ʷⁱᵗʰ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ˡᵒᵘᵈˡʸ ˢˡᵃᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ʰᵃʳᵈ ᵇᵉᶠᵒʳᵉ ᶠᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵉˡᵒʷ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʳᵃⁿ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵗᵒ ˢᵉᵉ ʰᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ˢʷⁱᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵒʳ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵗ ᵃˡˡ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᴵ’ᵐ ᶜᵒᵐⁱⁿᵍ ᵈᵒʷⁿ‧‧” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ, ᵘˢⁱⁿᵍ ʳᵒᵖᵉ ᵗᵒ ᵍᵉᵗ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵉˡᶠ ᵗᵒ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˢᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᵈʳᵒʷⁿ ᵇᵘᵗ ᶠᵉᵃʳⁱⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˢᵗ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃʳʳⁱᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵇᵃᶜᵏ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵒˡˡᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵍʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶠᵘˡˡʸ ᵏⁿᵒᶜᵏᵉᵈ ᵒᵘᵗ‧ “ᴼʰ, ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ‧” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᵗᵃᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ˢⁱᵈᵉ ᵒᶠ ʰⁱˢ ᶠᵃᶜᵉ‧ “ᴵ’ᵛᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ʲᵘˢᵗ ˢᵃʸ ˢᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ‧” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵖˡᵉᵃᵈᵉᵈ, ᵗʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵒ ᶜʳʸ‧ “ᵀᵃˡᵏ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ‧ ʸᵉˡˡ ᵃᵗ ᵐᵉ, ᵈᵒ ᵃⁿʸ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᴵ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ᶜᵃʳᵉ ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗᵒ ʰᵉᵃʳ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵛᵒⁱᶜᵉ! ᴺᵒ ᵒʰ ᵖˡᵉᵃˢᵉ ⁿᵒ‧‧” ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵈⁱᵈ ᵐᵃᵏᵉ ˢᵘʳᵉ ʰᵉ’ˢ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰⁱⁿᵍ ᵇᵘᵗ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʷⁱˢᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ᵐᵃᵈᵉ ⁿᵒ ᵐᵒᵛᵉᵐᵉⁿᵗ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ᵒᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ, ⁿᵒʳ ᵉᵛᵉⁿ ʳᵉᶠˡᵉˣⁱᵛᵉ ᵗʷⁱᵗᶜʰᵉˢ; ⁿᵒᵗ ʳⁱᵍⁱᵈ ᵇᵘᵗ ʲᵘˢᵗ ˡⁱᵐᵖ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢˡⁱⁿᵍˢ ʰⁱˢ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ᵒᵛᵉʳ ˢʰᵒᵘˡᵈᵉʳ ᶜᵃʳʳʸⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜʰᵘᵐ ᵇᵘᶜᵏᵉᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ’ˢ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵘᵗᵉʳ ʷⁱᶠᵉ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʷ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᶜᵃʳʳʸ ʰᵉʳ ʰᵘˢᵇᵃⁿᵈ ⁱⁿ ˢᵉᵗᵗⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠˡᵃᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ ʷⁱᵗʰ ᵃ ᵖⁱˡˡᵒʷ ᵗᵒ ˢᵘᵖᵖᵒʳᵗ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰᵉʳ ⁱⁿ ᵗᵉᵃʳˢ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ⁱᵗ‧ “ᴴᵉ’ˢ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵗᵉⁿˢⁱⁿᵍ…” “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵈᵉᵉᵖ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ‧ ᴾᵃⁿⁱᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ʷᵒⁿ’ᵗ ʰᵉˡᵖ ˢᵒ ˡᵉᵗ’ˢ ʳᵃᵗⁱᵒⁿᵃˡˡʸ ᶠⁱᵍᵘʳᵉ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿᵉˣᵗ ᵐᵒᵛᵉ‧” “ᴵ ᵏⁿᵒʷ, ᴵ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵈᵒⁿ’ᵗ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ˢᵉᵉⁱⁿᵍ ʰⁱᵐ ˢᵒ ˡⁱᶠᵉˡᵉˢˢ ᵃⁿᵈ ʰᵘʳᵗ‧” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵏⁿᵒʷ, ʸᵒᵘ’ᵛᵉ ˢᵃᵛᵉᵈ ʰⁱˢ ˡⁱᶠᵉ, ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴴᵉ’ᵈ ᵇᵉ ᵈᵉᵃᵈ ᵇʸ ⁿᵒʷ ⁱᶠ ˡᵉᶠᵗ ᵃⁿʸ ˡᵒⁿᵍᵉʳ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ‧ “ᶜᵃⁿ ᴵ ˢᵗᵃʸ ᵗʰᵉ ⁿⁱᵍʰᵗ? ᴵ ʷᵃⁿⁿᵃ…” “ᔆᵗᵃʸ ᵇʸ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ? ʸᵉˢ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ᵐᵃʸ‧‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᵃⁿˢʷᵉʳˢ ᵗᵒ‧ ᔆʰᵉ ˡᵉᵗ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃᵏᵉ ᵃⁿ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ˢᵒᶠᵃ‧ “ᴴᵉ ᵗᵃˡᵏᵉᵈ ˢᵒ ᵉⁿᵗʰᵘˢⁱᵃˢᵗⁱᶜᵃˡˡʸ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ ʸᵒᵘ ˢʰᵒʷᵉᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᶠᵘⁿ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵉᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ᵗᵃˡᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ‧ “ᴵ’ᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʰⁱᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵇᵉᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶠᵒʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖᵃᵗᵗʸ, ᵇᵘᵗ ᴵ ᵗʰⁱⁿᵏ ʰᵉ ˡⁱᵏᵉˢ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃᶜᵗᵘᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ‧” ᔆʰᵉ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗᵗᵉᵈ‧ “ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵃᵈᵐⁱᵗ ᴵ ᵃᵈᵐⁱʳᵉ ʰⁱˢ ᶜʳᵉᵃᵗⁱᵛⁱᵗʸ‧‧” ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᵀʰᵉʸ ˡⁱᵍʰᵗˡʸ ᶜʰᵘᶜᵏˡᵉᵈ ʷʰⁱˡˢᵗ ᵃˡˢᵒ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ˢᵃᵈ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵒᵘʳˢᵉ‧ “ᴳᵉᵗ ʳᵉˢᵗ, ᴵ’ˡˡ ᵇᵉ ⁿᵉᵃʳ‧” ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ˢᵃʸˢ‧ ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵈᵒᶻᵉ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵗʰᵉⁿ ʰᵉᵃʳᵈ ʷʰᵃᵗ ˢᵉᵉᵐᵉᵈ ˡⁱᵏᵉ ᵃ ᵐᵒᵃⁿ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵘᶜʰ‧ ᴴᵉ ˢᵃᵗ ᵘᵖ ʳᵉᵃˡⁱˢⁱⁿᵍ ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵍʳᵒᵃⁿᵉᵈ ⁿᵒʷ ˢᵗᵃʳᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᵗᵒ ʷᵃᵏᵉ ᵘᵖ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵍᵃⁱⁿ ʰⁱˢ ᶜᵒⁿˢᶜⁱᵒᵘˢⁿᵉˢˢ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ⁿᵒᵗ ᵘᵖ ʸᵉᵗ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ?” ᴺᵒʷ ᴷᵃʳᵉⁿ ᶜᵃᵐᵉ‧ ᴳʳᵒᵍᵍⁱˡʸ ʰⁱˢ ᵉʸᵉ ᵒᵖᵉⁿᵉᵈ ˢˡᵒʷ‧ “ᵂʰᵉʳᵉ ᵃᵐ ᴵ…” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ᵗʳⁱᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵐᵘᵐᵇˡᵉ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵒᵘⁿᵈⁱⁿᵍ ˢˡᵘʳʳᵉᵈ‧ ᴺᵒᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ᑫᵘⁱᵗᵉ ᶜᵒʰᵉʳᵉⁿᵗ ʸᵉᵗ ʰᵉ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵏᵉᵈ ᵃˢ ˢᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ˢᵗᵒᵒᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᵂʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ʰᵃᵖᵖᵉⁿⁱⁿᵍ?” ᴴᵉ ᶠⁱⁿᵃˡˡʸ ˢᵃⁱᵈ ᵗᵒ‧ ᴬˢ ʰⁱˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᵉˢ ʳᵉᵗᵘʳⁿᵉᵈ ʰᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵒᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵇʳᵉᵃᵗʰ ᵃⁿᵈ ʳᵉᵍⁱˢᵗᵉʳᵉᵈ ᵖᵃⁱⁿ ʳᵃᵈⁱᵃᵗⁱⁿᵍ ᶠʳᵒᵐ ʰⁱˢ ʰᵉᵃᵈ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴴᵉ ᶠᵉˡᵗ ᵈⁱᶻᶻʸ ᵗᵒ‧ “ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ, ʰᵉʸ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ⁿ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ʲᵘˢᵗ ⁿᵒʷ ᵃʷᵒᵏᵉ ᵃⁿᵈ ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ˢᵗⁱˡˡ ʷᵃᵏⁱⁿᵍ ᵘᵖ‧” “ᵂʰᵃᵗ? ᵂʰᵉⁿ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃᶜᶜⁱᵈᵉⁿᵗ? ᵂʰʸ’ˢ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ…” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵍᵒᵗ ʰⁱᵗ‧ ʸᵒᵘ ⁿᵉᵃʳˡʸ ᵈʳᵒʷⁿᵉᵈ ⁱⁿ ᵃ ʷᵉˡˡ ᵇᵘᵗ ˢᵃᶠᵉ ⁿᵒʷ‧ ᴵᵗ’ˢ ᵉᵃʳˡⁱᵉʳ ᵗᵒᵈᵃʸ‧‧” ᴾˡᵃⁿᵏᵗᵒⁿ ˡᵉᵃⁿᵉᵈ ᵘᵖ‧ “ᔆᵖᵒⁿᵍᵉᵇᵒᵇ ʰᵉˡᵖᵉᵈ, ᵃˢ ʰᵉ ᵍᵒᵗ ʸᵒᵘ‧‧” “ʸᵒᵘ ᵈⁱᵈ? ᵀʰᵃⁿᵏˢ, ᵏⁱᵈ‧‧” “ʸᵒᵘ’ʳᵉ ʷᵉˡᶜᵒᵐᵉ‧‧”

You are not funny. In the expansive and virtually boundless universe of attempts to weave the tapestry of laughter, wherein the intricate threads of humor intermingle in an elaborate dance across the vast canvas of comedic expression, and where the kaleidoscope of comedic endeavors unfurls like an ever-expanding cosmic saga, one, in their unwavering pursuit to elicit the coveted echoes of mirth and amusement, finds themselves inexorably navigating the labyrinthine corridors of jest and wit, driven by an undaunted determination, and yet, paradoxically, it is with a degree of almost supernatural consistency and an almost mystical regularity that their forays into the comedic abyss inadvertently manifest as a poignant reflection of the elusive and capricious nature of laughter itself, whereby, in a scenario as confounding as the enigma of the cosmos, the gravitational pull of humor, rather than drawing forth the anticipated crescendo of laughter, assumes the peculiar role of an unseen force repelling the very essence of amusement, thereby rendering their comedic offerings, with an unintentional but undeniable flair, as poignant testimonies to the uncharted depths of the unfunny, creating an immersive experience within the comedic realm where the anticipated reverberations of laughter conspicuously wane, and the expected comedic brilliance, instead of ascending to the zenith of hilarity, languishes in the shadowy recesses of a comedic void, thereby painting a vivid tableau of a comedic landscape where the echoes of laughter remain conspicuously absent, establishing them, albeit unwittingly, as an unwitting sentinel at the periphery of joviality, a singular entity in the vast expanse of amusement whose comedic resonance, or lack thereof, serves as a symbolic and unintentional testament to the unpredictable, enigmatic, and, at times, elusive nature of humor itself, whereby, through no fault of their own, they assume the role of a denizen of the comedic void, forever poised on the edges of amusement, forever in pursuit of the elusive echoes of laughter that remain tantalizingly out of reach in the vast and intricate cosmic ballet of comedic expression. 🙄

:Troll Face::Troll Face:(‿ˠ‿) Ɑ͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ ̶͞ لں͞

https://www.reddit.com/r/RowanBlanchard/

ambut • 2y ago I am learning that I heavily gravitate towards hurt/comfort and whump in a way that's psychologically questionable, but honestly I think that for those of us who like comfort with our hurt, it's like balancing an equation -- more hurt now = more comfort later. The worse the pain, the more blissful the relief.

Bikinigirlout • 2y ago For me, it’s partially because the writers of my show sucked at actually giving my favorite characters good storylines so it feels like a fix it attempt at allowing both the characters to go through their traumas in different situations.

https://www.reddit.com/r/EveryMemeItalia

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 13 hr. ago Madmonkeman The boy was determined to catch Santa entering the house and wanted to see what would happen. 100 years later as an Christmas elf, he still can’t remember anything other than constantly making toys, wrapping presents...

_aconite_cj_ "Honey, what's wrong? Why ain't you touching your food?" She asked calmly, without knowin I saw her mix the poison in my soup moments ago.

Go to TwoSentenceHorror r/TwoSentenceHorror 57 min. ago BaronBigly My abductor was “kind” enough to leave a TV in my windowless cell so I could watch my devastated family on the news. I had to do a double take when I turned the TV on and there I was, smiling like a cheshire cat, my parents beside me sobbing with relief that I’d been rescued.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 5 hr. ago nohemi_trevino My friend was extremely grateful when I gifted her a huge pack of moisturizing lip balms for Christmas. Her mouths had been looking chapped recently, and if they felt uncomfortable at all, they might start eating her as punishment.

r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 hr. ago IAbstainFromSociety My attempt to break into the cockpit with the fire axes failed, as the cockpit doors had been reinforced to protect against terrorism. Alone in the cockpit, there was nothing to stop my suicidal co-pilot from crashing the plane into the mountains..

r/TwoSentenceHorror 3 hr. ago Masterspace69 I had a friend in school who always seemed to be praying to ward off bad spirits, but each time I approached her she would stop and deny it. In the end, I had to eliminate her, as she could not ruin my deal with them…

r/TwoSentenceHorror 2 hr. ago Indian_DeadpooL I found my childhood diary today which I don't recall writing at all.. I laughed how I used to fear "monster under my bed" and wrote everything in third person.Then I turned to the latest entry dated today "it found the diary today"

😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤😂⃤

r/2sentence2horror 3 days ago CreativestName69420 There are approximately 100,000,000,000,000 cells in your body. Now 99,999,999,999,999, now 99,999,999,999,998, now 99,999,999,999,997, now 99,999,999,999,996…

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